Heart of Gold – by Tiffany Carby #2
Adam and I both worked what we referred to as “second shifts and then some.” My manager did the prep for the lunch crowd earlier in the day, so when I arrived, I took over the tail end of lunch and prepped and cooked dinner.
It was often interesting wearing the chef’s hat and the owner’s hat simultaneously.
I had been mulling over the idea of turning the lunch service into more of a bistro experience than fine dining. Our small town wasn’t supporting that type of midday meal during the week for sure, but it would be costly to rebrand without knowing whether it would work.
My restaurant sat across the street from one of Raleigh Griffin’s gas stations. I often wondered if I’d get some more foot traffic during the day from patrons having their vehicles serviced or even the employees of Griffin Gas.
Back in the ’80s, Raleigh’s wife Dafne had come up with a crazy idea to make their filling stations more personable , for lack of a better term.
The idea worked back then, and it hadn’t changed over the years either.
A customer would drive up to Griffin Gas Station where a shirtless gentleman would provide a fuel fill-up.
They’d also top off the oil, check the tire pressure, clean the windows, and do a few other things to make sure the vehicle was in tip-top shape.
It worked well because there was no additional cost to the customer, and the ladies got a nice view.
I didn’t mind the view from across the street either.
Adam sent me a text as I put my stuff in the office and got ready to put my phone up for the day. I didn’t allow my staff to have their phones in the kitchen either. If it was an emergency, their friends or relatives could call the main number.
If you need me or my handcuffs later, just call. I’m sure I’ll be super busy … XO
Heh. How was I supposed to take that? Because I could most certainly think of many ways to use his handcuffs.
I’ll let you know when I count the truffles! XO
Ever since we were little, we always signed our notes and messages with hugs and kisses. It was our thing, and I had become accustomed to seeing those two letters at the end of his texts.
“Well, Raleigh Griffin, good to see you. What brings you in this afternoon? Can I fix you some lunch?” I said as I was strolling around the front, making sure everything was okay.
“As much as I’d love that, I’d actually like to talk a little business, if you’re not too busy.” He and I could both tell by looking at the four people in the dining room that we were most definitely not too busy.
“Let me grab us a couple of drinks, and I’ll be right back. We can sit and chat.”
He winked and went over to the corner booth, away from the party of four so we wouldn’t disturb them or so they wouldn’t overhear our conversation.
“You’re too good to me, Henley, knowing my weakness for an Arnold Palmer.”
I sat a half sweet tea and half lemonade down on the table before him and another glass on my side. We both loved the drink, and it was a sweltering day for it.
“There was actually something I wanted to ask you too, so glad you stopped by,” I said as I sat down across from the billionaire. You’d have thought his presence would have been intimidating, but Raleigh Griffin was as down to earth as they came.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
I told him about the idea of changing the lunch service over to a bistro menu and wanted to get his thoughts on whether I’d get any traffic from his station across the street.
“You kidding? The guys working always say they don’t have time to go anywhere for lunch, but don’t want to take more than thirty-minute breaks either.
They’d be all over it, and we’d refer customers that are having their vehicles serviced over to your place during the day.
” His answer was exactly what I had hoped for, and I knew he would be straight with me. He was an excellent businessman.
“So, what's on your mind?”
“I was hoping you’d be up to hosting a little party. A romantic anniversary feast if you will …”
ADAM
Henley’s text telling me she was going to host a huge anniversary party for the Griffins made me cringe with jealousy. The Griffin’s private chef was in an unfortunate riding accident and was unable to cook for the surprise party planned for Dafne. So Henley was up to bat and needed the home run.
It’s like I went into the wrong profession. Or worse, settled in the wrong town .
My day had been spent chasing senior citizens off Lover’s Lane in the middle of the afternoon and watching as Chief Greene retrieved a cat out willow tree owned by The Armstrongs. Even the firemen had more to do than me.
I was happy for Hen. Her business was flourishing. I was just bored and wished my day job had a little more action.
Driving around Spring City, I decided to head to the interstate to see if anything was happening.
Maybe catch a speeder. There was only a ten-mile stretch of interstate that was part of Spring City proper—the rest of the interstate east to west was state trooper territory, which was a line I never crossed.
Just inside the city limits, I came upon a stopped motorist stranded on the side of I-64. They had blown two tires, and the lady inside seemed a bit frantic. I stopped to see if I could offer any assistance and shielded her and her car with my cruiser before safely approaching on foot.
“Ma’am,” I said and tipped my hat as I approached. “Anything I can do to help? Can I call a tow truck for you?” My offer was genuine, and the agitated twentysomething seemed both upset and appreciative at the same time.
“I’m just shaken up. I’m sorry, Officer,” she said.
The look on her face was enough to tell me that.
This girl was flustered, but boy, she caught my eye.
Jean shorts that were a little too short, sandals that showed off painted toenails, and some kind of peasant-looking top was almost too much.
The wavy blond hair she kept tossing out of her face was distracting.
“Nothing to apologize for. Is someone coming to help you?” It appeared that she had tried to change a tire herself but then gave up during the process when she realized the back tire was also flat.
“My daddy taught me how to change a tire. I know how to do it,” she said, again flinging her hair over her shoulder.
“I don’t doubt that at all, ma’am. Just doesn’t do much good when you have two tires flat.” I stood there waiting for her to say more, as she had yet to confirm someone was on their way to help.
“Ughh.” she sighed and turned toward me.
“I left my cell phone at my girlfriend’s house and hadn’t realized it until …
well , now. I was too busy driving and thinking and didn’t even realize it wasn’t in my purse.
This pickup truck in front of me had something in the bed that flew out, and I didn’t have time to swerve around it. ”
“Yes ma’am, looks like you hit it with both tires.
You’re within my city’s limits; let me call a tow truck for you.
Not much we can do out here.” The Griffin Gas Station across from Henley’s restaurant was equipped to tow and had service vehicles.
I was sure they could assist her. “It seems silly, ma’am, but I need to see your license and registration. It’s routine.”
“Oh, uh, let me get it.” She fidgeted around in her purse and retrieved the documents.
“I’d suggest you wait on the other side of your vehicle for safety while I run your plate. The tow truck will be here in a jiffy.”
Miss Pippa Townsend checked out, though not from Louisville where she was heading. Her license showed she was from Phoenix and had a clean record and up-to-date plates. I took her license and registration back to her and teased her about being so far from home.
“College. University of Louisville has a killer engineering program. I’m finishing my master’s degree.”
“Indeed, they do. Why don’t we wait in my car? You can sit in the front if you’d like. And we can crank the A/C.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said and took me up on my offer. She grabbed her purse and slid right in the front seat like she was meant to be there. Something about those dimples had me interested.
“Ever been in a cruiser?” I asked. It was a legitimate question, but it made her eyes big.
“No, sir!” she snapped back, which in turn made me chuckle and run my hands through my messy hair. It's what I do when I get nervous.
“I didn’t mean in the back seat.” I clarified. “So, tell me what you plan to do with an engineering degree.” Curiosity got the best of me, and we sure had time to wait on the tow truck.
“Civil engineering … urban planning. Hopefully work in a large city and help make areas more environmentally sound.”
We talked a little while longer before the truck arrived. I offered to follow them back to the station since it was on my way, and she wouldn’t have to ride with a stranger. Well, a stranger stranger.
“The Griffins are good people, they’ll take care of you,” I said as I dropped her off at the front door of the service area. I knew they’d be closing soon, but I had hopes they’d get her tires changed quickly so she could be on her way.
“It was nice to meet you, Officer …”
“Walker. Adam Walker. You can call me Adam.” I sounded like a chump.
“Nice to meet you, Adam. Thanks again for your help.”
“Nice to meet you too, ma’am. Pippa, ma’am. Miss Townsend . I’m sure they’ll be able to get you on your way real quick.”
And I needed to get on my way before I said anything else …
HENLEY
I made notes of the ingredients I needed from Lexington.
The Griffin anniversary dinner was going to be more upscale than my traditional dinners, and on such short notice, I couldn’t order the things I needed in time for tomorrow’s soiree.
The two places I needed to go agreed to stay open late for me so I could grab the ingredients and get back to town.