Chapter 16
My seven a.m. shift at the Dragonfly Diner came way too early the next morning, even for an early riser like me.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. I’d like to say it was strictly from thinking about Cambria’s proposition, but there was a lot of mooning over Max in there too.
No, not mooning. Just remembering.
Last night with Max… It was hot. Like, best-sex-of-my-life hot, and I’d had my share of good sex.
I hadn’t been able to get him out of my mind even once I got home. After three orgasms, I should’ve been able to move on, but instead I’d lain there and relived our sexy times. That wasn’t my usual MO. Usually it was nice while it lasted, and then I carried on with the rest of my life.
Max had spiced up my dreams for the short hours I’d slept. Then I’d woken for the day with my mind on him, my body jonesing for another go-round.
That was probably a red flag, but honestly, for sex that good, who cared? We’d said it was one and done, but if I had my way, Max and I would have a repeat…or a dozen.
“Your best customer’s here,” Monty, the owner and morning cook, said as I stopped for Rosy McNamara’s and Nancy Solon’s breakfast orders at the window.
I picked up the plates—a scramble and a Dragonfly Dust Waffle—and turned toward the front of the restaurant to see my dad ambling to the counter. He greeted nearly everyone on his way.
“Hey, Dad,” I called as I passed nearby.
“Good morning, Harper.”
Rosy and Nancy’s table was in the front corner by the window. “Here you go, ladies,” I said as I set their plates in front of them. “Looks like Monty put an extra dose of sprinkles in your waffles, Nancy.”
“Ooh,” Rosy said, checking out her friend’s plate, which was, in fact, about twice as colorful as usual. “He knows they’re your favorite.”
“He ought to. How long have we been coming here?” Nancy asked.
“Can I get you two anything else right away?” I asked, doing a quick check that there were enough creamers on the table for Rosy. She used three per mug of coffee and normally had at least one refill.
“We’re good, darling girl,” Rosy said.
“Tell Monty these waffles are even better than usual.” Nancy had drowned her plate in syrup the second I laid it down and already had a bite in her mouth.
“You got it.”
I checked in with Chloe and Ava Henry, who were deep in conversation, then headed toward my dad.
“How’s my favorite server this morning?” he asked as I stopped on the opposite side of the counter from him.
“I’m good. How’s it going?”
“Couldn’t ask for a better day. I saw the pictures from the gala. You looked mighty pretty.”
“Thanks, Dad. You want the usual?” I picked up the coffeepot, flipped over his mug, and filled it.
“Sure do. How’d it go with Coach Dawson?”
My body went hot just from the mention of his name. I turned away to put the coffeepot back on the warmer, summoning an expression of nonchalance before I faced my dad again. “Great. He ended up knowing several people there and introduced me around.”
“That worked out well then,” he said.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I could swear, as he raised his mug for a sip of coffee, he perused my face like only an over-concerned father could.
I worked to keep my face blank as I wrote his order down and sent it back to Monty, though my boss probably already had the corned beef hash cooking and the egg ready to go.
“Max was a gentleman,” I assured him, which was the truth. If we were only talking about Saturday night at the gala. Which we were.
“Order up, Harper,” Monty called through the window.
Grateful for the save, I picked up meals for Hank and Shirley Moody. “Nancy sends her compliments to the cook,” I said, grinning at my boss.
He grunted, but I thought I saw a shy smile as he averted his face, putting all his attention on the food sizzling on the grill as I hurried off.
When I came back to deliver my dad’s breakfast, he watched me instead of digging into his food.
“You look tired today, honey.”
With a lighthearted laugh, I said, “I’m tired every day. I must need new makeup.”
“Were you out late last night? On a Sunday?”
Fighting to blank my expression, I wiped at a coffee stain on the counter. “With a seven o’clock shift this morning?” I flashed him a look like he should know better, and I didn’t feel bad at all for the misdirection.
While I didn’t care for my sake if my dad knew I’d been at Max’s, I’d protect that information fiercely for Max’s sake because it mattered to him. I didn’t think my dad would fire him, but I also didn’t want him to warn Max away from me again, and I absolutely didn’t want Max to regret being with me.
My dad eyed me as if trying to discern whether my implication was the truth. Time to deflect.
“I have exciting news. Dakota and I are going to be roommates. We’re signing a lease on Mrs. Karasinski’s apartment.”
“Above her shop?”
“That’s the place. We can move in as soon as they clean it out.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Will you be able to handle the rent?”
I bit down on my irritation that he thought he had to ask that question. I might not be a lawyer or a stock analyst, but I knew better than to commit to a lease if I didn’t make enough money to cover rent. “As long as my wonderful customers keep tipping generously.”
That was one thing I had to give my dad full credit for. He tipped me well but not ridiculously over-the-top, this-is-my-daughter well. That would feel like charity.
“We’ll see how the service is today,” he teased.
“That’s fair.” I went to the kitchen window where food was up for a table of early-bird tourists.
After making a round of all my tables, I refilled my dad’s coffee.
“Thank you, honey. Monty’s lucky to have you for all these years.”
That seemed like a dig at me for staying at what I knew he considered a dead-end job for so long. But Dakota had told me many times that I was oversensitive about this issue where he was concerned, so I let it roll off.
As I cleared Chet Hogan’s place three stools down, I wondered what my dad would think if I told him I was considering opening a business with Dakota and Cambria. Probably that we were reckless.
Frankly I wasn’t sure he’d be wrong.
That balled up nervousness lodged in my gut again. It was anxiety, but there was also a kernel of excitement when I imagined being a store owner with my friends and not pouring another cup of coffee.
Though I’d shut down the topic last night with Max, I’d been mulling over his words ever since. He had a valid point—I didn’t have enough info to decide about opening a business. There’d be no risk in meeting with Cambria and Dakota to learn more. If Dakota was even contemplating the possibility.
I made a point of not mentioning any of it to my dad. He’d never let it go if he knew I was remotely considering such an endeavor. And if it didn’t go anywhere, he’d be even more disappointed that his daughter was “stuck” being a server due to lack of ambition.
I carried the water pitcher around to my tables and refilled Nancy’s glass without interrupting their conversation. Something stirred in me, something like hunger. Not for food but for having a direction in my life, an endeavor that made my blood buzz.
The seed had been planted at Max’s two nights ago when I’d seen my life for what it was—empty and without deep meaning. Running into Cambria yesterday, mentioning my jewelry to her, and having her jump on it so easily… That seed had been nourished, encouraged, as if someone had sprinkled fertilizer on it and watered it.
This wasn’t a position I’d found myself in before, and it wasn’t comfortable. But there was just enough jittery excitement bubbling around in me that I couldn’t ignore it.
I decided to contact both Dakota and Cambria after my shift.