I stop outside Red’s Diner and peek in. I see Violet, one of my best friends and the owner of the diner, standing behind the counter. I pull my shoulders back and push through the door. When the bell above the door chimes, Violet looks up with a smile pasted to her face, no doubt about to greet a newcomer. When she sees me and the look I thought I had hidden well, she shakes her head. “What’s wrong?”
I look around the restaurant as I stride up to the counter. Red’s Diner is the most popular place to eat in town. It’s the hangout of all hangouts. It’s where all the gossip seems to start, and with Violet yelling across the restaurant at me, asking me what’s wrong – well, I’ll be the first name mentioned tonight on the chatterbox as everyone forms their own opinions of what is wrong with me.
“Really? Did you have to scream that across the restaurant?”
“Sorry. I saw the look. You know the one. It’s the I’ve been dealing with my dumbass ex-boyfriend because I want to be some kind of martyr so my dad can retire look.”
I take a seat at the counter and am thankful that even though all the tables and booths seem to be occupied, the stools at the counter are still open. “Violet, we’ve been over this.”
She rolls her eyes. “So did you come for a lecture from your best friend or are you wanting to place an order?”
“I’m getting lunch for Dad and me.”
“Your dad want the usual?”
I give her the What else would he order? look. He’s been ordering the meatloaf and mashed potatoes ever since Violet added it to the menu. It’s definitely his favorite.
“What about you, Millie? Hamburger today?”
Just the thought of eating one of the diner hamburgers makes my mouth water. But I started a diet this morning. Another one. I shake my head. “No, I’ll take the Cobb salad with grilled chicken. Lite ranch dressing on the side.”
“Millie...”
“It’s what I want, Violet. I don’t need the speech today.” She’s my best friend, and she knows how sensitive I am about my weight, but I still shut her down. No doubt she’s going to tell me how pretty I am, and I don’t need to lose weight. It’s the same thing she’s always saying to me. But obviously if what she says was true, I wouldn’t have the nickname “Millie Moo” from Mike.
Violet shrugs her shoulders and then points to the dessert case next to her. “Okay, you want to eat rabbit food for lunch. Have at it. But are you sure you don’t want a slice of your favorite apple cinnamon Blaze cake?”
She’s pointing at the spongy goodness with the cream cheese frosting, and if it was any other day, I would give in. The apple cinnamon Blaze cake is my favorite. Its key ingredient is the cinnamon whiskey that is made at the distillery at the edge of town. It’s what our town, Whiskey Run, is named after. But I take a deep breath and blow it out, telling myself to be strong. “No, no cake for me today.”
Violet puts both hands on the counter and leans toward me. “You don’t need to be on a diet, Millie.”
I point toward Eddie, who’s standing at the cooktop. “You going to put my order in? I have to get back to work.”
Violet flings her hands up in the air, shaking her head. Honestly, if I let her loose, she’d give Mike a piece of her mind. I have no doubt about it. She’s the one that was there for me when I found out that Mike was sleeping with another woman and was only dating me to get the manager’s job. Probably the worst of it was hearing him tell someone on the phone that there’s no way he would ever sleep with me because he’s afraid I’d smother him while we were in bed. I can’t stop the grimace on my face, and I look around the restaurant as if the people here could hear the thoughts in my head.
Luckily, no one seems to even notice me. At least no one seems to. That is until I look to my left, at the far end of the counter away from everyone, where a lone man is sitting. He’s rugged looking with at least a couple days of stubble on his chin. He has longer hair and the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s staring at me, and instantly I can feel my whole body heat. A million things cross my mind. Did he hear me say I was on a diet? I look up at the ceiling, deep in thought – did I say anything about Mike and what happened with him? Geez, I hope not. I definitely don’t need someone else speculating on what they think happened. I have enough of that going around already.
Because I can’t stop myself, I chance another look at the stranger. At closer look, I notice that he’s older. Considerably older than my twenty-four years of age. He has to be in his late thirties. The corner of his lips raise in a smile, and he nods his head in acknowledgement. Normally, I’m a nice person. I’ll say hi to anyone. But I guess not today, because I barely stop my mouth from dropping open. The hot guy smiles at me. I turn my back to him. It’s rude and uncalled for, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m not good at small
