House of Payne (House of Payne #1)

Chapter One

London

“Why didn’t you answer the phone the first time I called?” My mom’s voice is frantic on the other end.

I smile. Some things never change. “I know, Mom, but I’m working. I can’t check my phone every five seconds.”

She doesn’t let it go. “Working?” She snorts. “Is that what we’re going with?”

“Fine, my phone was on vibrate,” I admit.

“How many times have I told you how dangerous it is to have your phone on vibrate? What if something happens and I can’t reach you? I need to be able to talk to you at all times, London.”

My mom has always had a flair for melodrama.

The fact that my life has taken a backseat to the diner doesn’t sit well with her, and that I did it for my father makes it even worse.

My mom won’t say it explicitly, but I know she’s disappointed in me and my wasted potential.

I sigh. She’s always been a bit kooky and far more overprotective than she needs to be, but I don’t love her any less.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mom, I am an adult,” I stress, wiping down the front counters in case someone came in to order something.

Shooting glances at the door every so often doesn’t change anything, no matter how much I wish it would.

For the umpteenth time, I find myself wondering if my mom is right.

What if I made a mistake by sticking around and putting my life on hold?

“I don’t care when the law calls you an adult, you’ll always be my baby, and don’t forget it.”

“You won’t let me,” I chuckle.

“I never will.” She clears her throat. “So, how is your father’s diner?”

She’s only asking out of obligation and not any real interest.

Even after all these years, the diner is still a place of contention between us.

“It’s not just his diner, it’s ours. He says it’ll be mine when he retires.”

There’s a brief pause, which is unheard of for my mom. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I love you, London, and your father had a wonderful dream, but you can do so much more than a failing diner.”

I can tell she’s not being mean, nor is she saying anything that’s not true. It hurts to have it thrown in my face, but I know my mom is only looking out for me.

So is my dad.

They have two very different ideas of what my life should look like.

“It’s been doing better,” I tell her although it’s a partial lie. A few new faces have come in, and we have our loyal regulars, of course, but it’s nothing like it was in its prime.

I remember being a kid, hunched over my father’s rickety old desk in the back office while the conversation flowed around me, punctuated by the occasional laugh.

Sometimes, when things feel particularly depressing, and the reality of how far it has fallen hits me, I recall how it felt to sneak out of the back office as a kid, the wonder and joy I felt when I saw how many people came in and out, and the pleased flush on my parents’ faces as they stood at the counter.

It feels like someone else’s memories. A lifetime ago now.

The diner was one of the reasons my parents ultimately called it quits.

It was Dad’s lifelong dream, and he didn’t want to let it go even when revenue plummeted.

My mother had encouraged him to sell it so they could move on while they could.

She thought they could sell the house, too, and move to Fiji, but vacation and a life of relaxation were never something he wanted.

Eventually, my mother fell out of love with him.

She says they just drifted apart, but the truth was easy to see.

She stopped doing the little things to show her love, like making him breakfast or kissing him the second he came home from work.

Slowly, the “I love yous stopped being said, and then one day, she said she was leaving him.”

Even teenage me hadn’t been surprised by the news, although my dad took it hard.

My dad has always been a little too optimistic for his own good, choosing to believe in the silver lining.

His marriage wasn’t any different.

Most people thought my mother was a bad person who left her husband and child, but I wasn’t one of them. I saw she wasn’t fulfilled by her life. She saw time passing around her and had goals she couldn’t accomplish with Dad in the picture.

I’ve never blamed her, and now that I’ve come full-circle and returned to the diner—ground zero for my parents’ marriage—sometimes, I even understand it.

People accused her of seeing someone else, but that wasn’t the case. My parents were together because it was what they were used to. That didn’t mean her leaving didn’t hurt my dad. It was twenty-two years of his life down the drain.

I miss having her around. Her drive and thirst for life always provided a welcoming breath of fresh air in an otherwise monotonous existence.

But I don’t tell her that. She’d just hold it against me and take it as one more notch against my poor dad.

“Have you considered going back to college?” she asks. College has always been something she wanted for me, and at one point, it was something I wanted, too. I’d earned my associate’s degree, but Dad needed so much help here that I’d dropped out to offer my time.

“Mom.” I stress her name, making it clear that I don’t want to talk about it.

I’m undecided about the subject and talking about it now will only confuse me more.

A part of me thinks I’ll eventually go back to college with years of work experience under my belt and the future laid out before me.

The other part of me knows that the longer I put it off, the harder it will be to pick up where I left off.

Not that I can even if I wanted to.

I’m not the same person who packed up her things and returned home without a backward glance. Entering the workforce before I had the chance to learn more about myself and what I want has changed my perspective for good.

I just don’t know if that’s good or bad.

“Okay, okay,” she backs off. “You know I just want what’s best for you. How are things between you and Noah?”

Noah is a safe topic, and I appreciate her navigating to more familiar terrain.

My heart flutters at the sound of my boyfriend’s name, a smile lifting the edge of my lips.

“They’re going really well,” I answer.

Out of everything in my life, he’s going the best. Everything about him is so perfect that thinking about it makes me want to scream. All the ways he makes my life better cheer me up.

I still don’t know how I managed to attract the attention of someone like him, but I’m not going to question it.

Noah is my first boyfriend, and I am lucky to have him. He makes how he feels about me so obvious and spends as much time with me as his schedule allows.

“I’m so happy to hear that!” I can hear my mom’s excitement over the phone.

“He just graduated.”

“That’s good for him. Let him know I’m proud of him.” My mom and Noah have only met a handful of times, but they really hit it off. She doesn’t think I can find someone better.

“I will.”

“Now, when are you coming down here to visit? It’s been too long!” she exclaims. “Florida would look good on you, and we can have some mommy and daughter time at the bar now that you’re legal.”

The thought of lounging by the beach, sipping margaritas, and enjoying quality time with mom has its appeal.

Glancing around the largely empty diner, with its cracked floors, peeling paint, and the faint odor of oil almost makes me want to book a ticket right then.

“A vacation does sound nice.”

“Then I’ll book you a ticket.”

“I can’t just leave Dad.”

“Your dad can go a week without you.”

I don’t get the chance to respond before the door to the diner opens and Noah walks in wearing a pair of dark jeans and a button-down shirt. His brown hair is tousled and curls at the nape of his neck. A smile lights his face when he spots me.

My heart skips a beat, and I smile at him. “Hey, Mom, I’ll call you back later. Noah just walked in.”

“Okay, baby. Just let me know about the Florida trip. I really do miss you, London.”

I smile even wider when Noah reaches for my hand and squeezes it firmly. “I miss you, too. I love you.”

“Love you more. Bye.”

The line clicks, and I push my phone into my back pocket as Noah leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. He smells like a tropical rainforest, and I close my eyes and savor the image of him in a pair of swimming trunks while I lounge nearby in a one-piece, pretending to leaf through a book.

The more I think about it, the more tempted I am to take my mom up on her offer.

“Hey, baby,” he greets, and we hug over the counter the best we can. “How’s your day?”

“Oh, no, we’re definitely starting with you, Mr. Graduate.”

His cheeks turn red. He’s never enjoyed talking about himself, and maybe that’s what I like so much about him. My mother is the opposite. She can go off on a tangent if you ask her a simple question about herself. My dad didn’t seem to mind, but I’m sure it could have been annoying at times.

“How’s your day been?” I ask. I wanted to watch him graduate, but Dad had business meetings today, so I had to stay back and man the ship. He can’t afford to hire anyone else. He hardly pays me, and I know even that leaves him with little to nothing for himself.

“The ceremony was pretty cool,” he admits with a shrug. “I’m just happy all the hard work has finally paid off. It’s nice to think about getting a break the next couple of weeks before my job starts.”

“So, you got the job?” I remember that he went in for an interview a few weeks ago, one he desperately wanted the job for.

His face lights up, and he nods.

“Oh my God. That’s wonderful, Noah!” I exclaim. I take my apron off and go around the corner to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close and kissing him on the lips. He kisses me back but pulls away when the bell above the back door sounds.

Noah doesn’t pull away when my dad comes into the front. “What are you two lovebirds up to?” He has mail in his hand and his glasses rest on his nose.

“Noah graduated today,” I say quickly before Noah can downplay it. “Isn’t that great?”

“Great?” Dad repeats. “That’s incredible. You only graduate college once!”

“That’s not entirely true,” Noah starts, but Dad isn’t listening.

“You know what, son, I’ll make you anything your heart desires. On the house, of course.” Not that he would charge Noah anyway. The two have become close since we started dating, and Dad often refers to him as the son he never had. It makes me happy to see them get along so well.

“I do love your lasagna,” Noah comments.

“Then lasagna you shall have. Do me a favor and flip the sign so nobody stops us from celebrating.”

Dad’s in a pretty good mood, which isn’t usually the case after he attends business meetings. Hope flares in my chest that maybe this means things are about to start looking up for us again. It’s the kind of news to turn my day around.

Still, I’m almost afraid to ask.

I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“Okay,” Noah chuckles while Dad rushes to the kitchen.

I follow him as he moves to the front of the store and flips the sign that says “Come on in, we’re open” to the “Don’t frown, we’ll be back” side, although it isn’t like anyone else would come in anyway. The place has been desolate these past few days. Weeks. Months.

“London,” Noah says my name, and I can tell something serious is on his mind. “There’s something we still need to talk about.”

The second the words leave his mouth, my body becomes frigid because I know what’s coming.

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” I suggest. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

Noah shakes his head, a furrow appearing between his brows and the corners of his mouth turning down. “This job will pay me enough to take care of us, baby.”

“I have a job. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

He looks at me, the furrow between his brows deepening, making it clear that he doesn’t believe me. “Whether you need it or not, it’s something I want to do. We can’t keep avoiding the subject of us moving in together.”

I swallow. He said it. “Noah.” I say his name although I’m not sure what to say next. This isn’t something I’d planned to talk about today, but the look on his face says he’s not going to back down.

I sigh and ignore the small knots forming in my stomach. “I don’t want my dad to hear.”

“I’m not a dirty little secret, Lo.” He uses the nickname he’s always had for me.

“You’re not, and you know that.” My voice is a quiet snap as I shake my head.

“Then, let’s talk about it,” he presses. “The last time I brought it up, you said you weren’t ready. I’m out of school now, with a sustainable job. We’ve been dating for three years, Lo. If not now, then when?”

He’s right, but that doesn’t change how I feel. “Nothing’s changed, Noah. I still can’t bear to leave Dad on his own.”

Noah’s asked me to move in with three times now. I know I can’t put it off forever, and I’m sure Noah is getting tired of asking, but I can’t agree.

Even though I have no idea what’s stopping me.

Noah is great, and he makes me happy, and any woman in my shoes would’ve moved in months ago.

So, why can’t I?

“Let’s talk to him,” Noah suggests. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy if we…”

“No,” I interrupt because I know what Dad will say. He doesn’t want to get in the middle of my happiness and would gladly tell me to move in with Noah if that’s what I want. Unlike Mom, he’s always been selfless. “What’s the rush, Noah? We’re still young, right?”

“I want to get serious with you, baby, and now’s the time. You know my job is three hours away. I can’t imagine having to travel that far to see you.”

Three hours. That’s far from the diner.

I frown. “Who would help Dad run the place?”

“You can visit all the time.”

I’m still not convinced. “I don’t know, Noah.”

He lets out a deep breath. “I want to be the man for you. I want to protect you and always be there for you, and I can’t do that from three hours away, baby. You don’t have to be afraid of change.”

“I’m not afraid,” I say quickly.

He leans down and presses his lips against my neck, whispering along my sensitive skin. “Then come with me.”

I close my eyes, as his arm wraps around my hip, pulling me against him. “Let me be the man of your dreams.” He kisses me, and I’m eager to reciprocate.

The front door opens. “I’m sorry; we’re closed,” I announce, wanting to return to kissing Noah, but the men who walk in kill my libido.

They look like trouble with their large, bulging muscles, tattoos snaking up and down their arms, and hard gleams in their eyes.

Suddenly, I don’t think Noah, my dad, and I are going to get the chance to celebrate.