Chapter 3 #2
I’m happily surprised by how congenial and friendly she’s being. I look at her name tag again; it reads Izzy, which suits her. She looks like an Izzy, with her long blond hair, big blue eyes, and curvy figure.
“Just great. Thanks, Izzy. Best omelet I’ve had in a while.”
“We do aim to please at Eggy Things. Chef makes the best omelets in town. And I’m not even paid to say that.” She pauses and wrinkles her nose. “Well, not well paid.” She slaps her fingers to her mouth. “Oops, ignore me.”
“No worries.” I laugh loudly at her expression.
Izzy could be a comedian or an actress with all the expressions crossing her face.
“We’re new in town, and I’m glad we’ve found a good breakfast place that won’t break the bank.”
“Oh, you’re new?” Her eyes widen, and she smiles.
“That’s awesome. Welcome to Santa Capinari.
It’s pretty sweet here. Kinda expensive, but still awesome.
I grew up here. How old are you girls?” She pauses.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that.” She looks over her shoulder to the kitchen.
“We’re not supposed to ask personal questions.
I was just wondering ’cause you both look to be around my age, and if so, I was going to say we should hang out or something. Or wait, is that weird?”
“We love weird.” Rosie drains the last of her latte from her glass and offers Izzy a warm smile.
“We’re weird. And we would love to make new friends.
I’m twenty-two, and Sage is twenty-four, but we’re not ageist. We’re friends with anyone.
Well, maybe not teenagers. That would be creepy, but in our last town, I had a friend Mildred, and she was seventy-five.
Loved her. She had more energy than me.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m seventy-five.” Izzy surprises me by sliding into the booth, next to Rosie.
The diner looks quite busy, and she’s one of only two servers I see working this morning, but I decide not to say anything.
I keep my eyes averted from the other customers because I can see one man sitting at a table near the door, who keeps darting glances at Izzy, looking pissed.
I wonder if he’s waiting to order or waiting for his food.
Either way, he doesn’t seem happy to see her chitchatting with us.
“I’m twenty-five, and so is my best friend, Lucia, who you’ll love. We should all go for drinks tonight, if you’re free.”
“Um, we are, but …” My voice trails off.
I want to make friends—I do—but money is tight.
Too tight to be spending on alcohol willy-nilly.
“The drinks in town seem expensive.” I look down at the top of the table, embarrassed.
I grab the salt and pepper shakers and move them back toward the other condiments.
“What my sister is trying to say is, we’d love to hang out, but maybe not at a bar. Not yet. Not until we have jobs and potential hus …” Her voice gradually drops to silence as I give her a look.
Izzy seems nice and nonjudgmental, but I don’t need her knowing we came to town to find billionaire boyfriends. I know exactly how that would sound to the average person.
“Incomes,” she adds quickly, and Izzy nods in understanding.
“It is so expensive here.” She leans forward. “I may know of some jobs if you need them. If you don’t mind waitressing?”
“Here?” I ask, wondering if she owns the diner. It would make more sense as to why she’s sitting down on the job and gabbing with strangers.
“Oh, no, not here. Where Lucia works—Mama’s Kitchen.
It’s a cute waterfront restaurant that her brother owns, and she kinda runs.
” She grins at us. “They just had some staff quit, so I know they’re hiring.
I can call her and tell her you’re coming over, if you want.
I work there sometimes as well, but only a few shifts a week. ”
“Doesn’t she need to interview us first?” I ask, though I’m grateful to Izzy for looking out for us. I’m not sure I’ve met anyone as friendly as her in a while.
“Not at all. She’s desperate for staff, and if I vouch for you, the job is yours. She knows I have a keen sense of who’s good and who’s bad. And I can tell you’re both good eggs.”
“Aw, thanks.” Rosie looks exhilarated by the compliment. “You’ve earned a fifty percent tip today, Izzy.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Izzy pauses when the bell above the door rings.
We all look back at a snooty redhead who walks into the diner and calls out Izzy’s name in a tone that can only be called snarky and rude.
Izzy looks flustered for a moment and then quickly stands up.
The redhead strides toward us like she’s on a Victoria’s Secret runway.
Her green eyes flash at Izzy as she stops next to her.
“Where’s Colton?” the redhead demands, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. She sounds like someone’s pulling her panties back tightly, and she’s in pain. “He was supposed to come over to my place last night, and he didn’t show up.”
“I don’t know.” Izzy presses her lips together, her face ghost-white. “I really don’t know.”
“I bought a hundred-dollar lingerie set and strawberries and whipped cream,” the redhead continues with her lips twisted. “He wanted to put a strawberry in every one of my—”
My loud gasp makes her pause, and she looks down at Rosie and me. I think she just remembered she’s in a public place, but I don’t think she cares.
“This conversation is inappropriate, Kendra.” Izzy sniffs and pulls out a napkin from her black apron pocket. She dabs her nose, and I can see her eyes are watering. “I’m at work.”
“You’d think you’d get a real job.” Kendra flips her perfectly cut red bob with her pink manicured fingers and looks down at her very shiny Cartier watch. I also spy a diamond bracelet on her slender wrist, and I know I hate this woman. Based on the superior, catty expression on her face alone.
“Call Colton if you have an issue,” Izzy says softly. “What you do is none of my business.”
“You’ve got that right.” Kendra turns around abruptly and walks right back out the door.
“Oh, man, she’s a bitch,” Rosie says what I’m thinking. “How rude was she? Like you’d know where your brother was right now!” She giggles uncomfortably. “At least I hope he’s your brother.”
“Colton’s not my brother.” Izzy looks down at us, a weary expression on her face as she grabs her phone and texts someone rapidly.
“Your dad?” Rosie asks hopefully. “That’s even creepier.”
“Colton’s not my dad.” Izzy shakes her head and gives us the most pitiful smile. “He’s my boyfriend.”
I give Rosie a warning look because even though I’m as taken aback as she is by this news, I also don’t want us to get involved.
I want to know all the information, but we just met Izzy, so we’re definitely not in a position to quiz her.
Rosie sits back, wide-eyed, her eyes fixed on me, and I shake my head slowly.
“Anyway, it was nice meeting you, girls. I just texted Lucia. I told her you’re on the way,” Izzy says as she scribbles something on her notepad. “Here’s the address for Mama’s Kitchen and my number. Maybe we can hang out soon.”
“Yes, that would be great. Thanks, Izzy.” I take the piece of paper from her gratefully and offer her a warm smile.
She looks back at me with trembling lips, and I feel so bad for her. Whoever Colton is, he is an idiot, and Izzy deserves better. I hope that if we become friends, I can show her that.