Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“What are you doing here?” My voice is barely audible over the various tones of chatter that surround us.
“Hi, Macey.”
The way he says my name turns my knees weak and I find myself leaning against the table for support. I don’t know whether to scream, fist pump or walk off. Either way, I look around the diner to see who is watching us. No one is.
I swallow hard and tell my lady bits to calm the fuck down. Of course they’d be excited to see Finn. Not that I blame them.
“What can I get you?” I ask with my pen poised on my pad of paper. He looks from me to the menu and back at me.
“What do you recommend?”
“Oh well, the hash and eggs is a favorite.”
“Is that your favorite?”
I shake my head and point to the pancakes. “Those or the French toast,” I tell him. Morgan loves the French toast with powdered sugar and syrup.
“I’ll have the pancakes.”
“Anything else? Do you want a side of bacon?”
“No, but I’ll take a side of Macey.” He winks, causing me to blush.
“Very funny.”
I turn away as quickly as I can, drop his order at the kitchen and make my way to the bathroom before I lose all composure in front of everyone. Inside the stall, I try to calm my breathing and get my brain to comprehend the fact that Finn McCormick is here, in town and at the diner. He somehow found out where I worked and showed up. Why? Why is he here?
After I wash up, I go back out on the floor and tend to my other tables. Each time I glance at Finn, he’s watching me. His eyes are following me around the restaurant. He’s my table so I have to check on him, even though I want to ignore him.
“Do you need a refill on your coffee?”
“What time are you off?”
“Not until three. Coffee?” I ask again, holding the pot up.
“I want to take you to dinner.”
I shake my head and move to the next table, refilling their cups and so on until my pot is empty. When I walk by his table again, he reaches out and snags my hand.
“Macey . . .”
“What? Why are you here, Finn?”
“Why do you think?”
“How’d you find me?”
“Lamar did a background check on you when you stayed with me. This place came up for employment. I took a guess.”
I shake my head, wishing he would go away. I’ve had enough of Finn in my life. His order is ready and as much as I’d love to throw it in his face, I can’t.
“We need to talk,” he says when I bring him his pancakes.
“I can’t after work.” There is no way I’m telling him about Morgan.
“When?”
“I don’t know, Finn.”
He cuts into his pancake and takes a bite. “Unacceptable.”
I remind myself that he doesn’t own me, at least not anymore. I walk away and tend to my other tables, stopping by Finn one last time to see if he needs anything else before I hand him his check.
And as if my day couldn’t get any worse—you know the saying, when it rains, it pours? That’s my day today. I’m watching as the hostess sits Joel, the guy from the plane, in my section. I have two options: pretend I don’t know him or act like I’m shocked to see him. I think pretending is the best way to go.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“Hi. Do you remember me?” he says.
I fake my surprise and smile. “Yes, of course. Joe, right?”
“Joel.” We both smile at the same time. I pretend to act embarrassed.
“Right, Joel. How are you?”
“I’m doing well and yourself?” He holds the menu in his hand, giving me all this attention. I glance up quickly and see Finn eyeing us. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Finn is jealous by the redness in his cheeks and the firm set of his jaw. I turn my attention back to Joel and answer his question.
“I’m doing better than I was that day on the plane.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, it is. Do you know what you want to order?”
“Oh yeah,” Joel says as he looks down at the menu. “Um . . . yeah, so a Coke would be good and I’ll take the turkey club.”
I write down his order even though it’s an easy one to remember and tell him I’ll be right back. Once I drop it in, I go back to check on Finn.
“What else can I get you?”
“Who’s the guy?”
I shake my head slightly. “No one, a customer.”
Finn drops his fork onto his plate in a huff. “He knows you. I can tell by the way he looks at you. Are you dating him?”
“What?” I scoff. “Finn, what makes you think you can come in here and talk to me like this?”