Chapter 13 #2
His arm with a rolled sleeve stretches toward the menu. “What’s good here? ”
“Everything is good here,” I announce with pride. “All items are Grandma approved. What do you like?”
His sudden chuckle is heavy. “What do I like?” He lifts his eyes to me.
“What I like is peace and quiet in my backyard,” he says in a breathy voice while his eyes, for some incomprehensible reason, are focused on my lips.
Which I lick. Obviously. Too much attention makes them dry in the blink of an eye.
I lean my elbows on the counter in front of him. “That’s not happening, grumpy pants.”
He pushes back, leaning on the chair and shaking his head. “I suspected as much. I’ll take today’s special.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
He moves closer to me. “It’s good if it’s Grandma approved.”
I have a smart remark ready to throw back at him when the door opens and Dick walks in.
The bane of my existence in Big Love. Wearing his casual navy suit and sleeked back hair, he heads straight toward us.
When I think the day couldn’t get any worse, Dick just has to come and prove me wrong.
Now my morning desire to cover myself in protective stones makes even more sense. Here’s the promised witch hunt.
“Looking good, Nora.” His voice carries that infuriating mix of possession and familiarity. A chill creeps up my spine, the same one I’ve felt a hundred times before.
“What do you want, Dick?” His name slips out like an accusation, flat and bitter.
Jericho’s head whips toward him with a sudden snap that startles me.
His jaw clamps shut so loud I almost hear the grind of his teeth, making me wonder what Dick could have done to Jericho so far to cause this reaction.
But you never know with Dick—he tends to cause strong responses in people. It’s one of his specialties.
“So rude, Nora.” The jerk tsks, playing the wounded party. Leaning his upper body on the counter, he watches me with that same old lecherous gleam in his eyes. “What’s the special tonight?”
“Your wife didn’t cook you dinner?” The words shoot out, almost viciously. “Or maybe your fancy cook at your new diner is not as good as you claimed him to be?”
Jericho’s brows jump up, and he looks at me with renewed interest. His gaze darts between me and Dick. Yep, buddy, you’re in for a show. This is not my proudest moment, but I can’t help myself—he just infuriates me so much.
Dick’s face stretches with a self-satisfied grin. “Still not over it I see.”
Rolling my eyes, I shove the menu in his direction, trying not to let his smugness worm its way under my skin, but it does, it always does. The man has an uncanny ability to make me feel like a teenager dealing with her first heartbreak all over again.
“Here I thought you were keeping tabs on me,” he continues smoothly, unfazed by my hostility. “You know, all this time I believed you were secretly my biggest fan.”
My teeth clench, and I’m painfully aware of Jericho’s eyes still flickering between us as if he’s watching some absurd tennis match. “It’s meatloaf Thursday.”
“That’s my favorite. You remembered.”
That’s it. I’m done.
“I’ll take it.” He plumps his ass on the chair, making himself comfortable.
Sometimes Dick’s in the mood to play on my nerves, and my only defense is trying to ignore him.
Which doesn’t work very well tonight because I’ve been aggravated since the moment I got here.
I could hit him with a frying pan, but I don’t have bail money lying around, so I guess ignoring it is.
He starts impatiently tapping his fingers on the counter. “How you been, darlin’?”
Darlin’? He must be having a rough patch with his wife. He hasn’t called me ‘darlin’’ since the last fight with his wife that the whole town knew about.
“I’d like to have some coffee too, sweetie,” he continues, laying it on thick.
Completely ignoring him, I pass the note to the kitchen and am on my way to return to the bar when Karina intercepts me and steps right across from him with a coffee pot in her hands.
“Here’s your coffee, Dick.”
Dick stops impatiently tapping his fingers, and his face falls. Those two don’t share any love between each other. Her voice drips with venom, and his reaction is immediate. He looks stunned, like someone punched him in the gut. He’s clearly counting on me to cover his fragile ego this time.
“Nora already took my order, so she’s my server.” His whiny voice makes me want to gag.
“Nora is the owner,” Karina explains in a patronizing tone as if speaking to a child.
“She’s just helping me because I’m overwhelmed.
So now you’ve got me. Here’s your coffee, Dick.
” She pushes the mug toward him, splashing the liquid on the counter and into his lap.
“Oh,” she starts with a fallen face that turns into a subtle grin.
“Look what you’ve done. Had a little accident there, Dick? ”
He sits up with a half snort, quick to defend himself. “I didn’t do anything!” he cries out. “You spilled it.”
She leans closer to him, and with her eyes wide open, whispers loudly, “Are you nervous about something, Dick?”
“I am not!” he cries out like a snotty child again, looking around. Like he’s expecting someone to jump out from behind a booth and argue with him.
Karina quickly straightens her back with a wide smile. “That’s okay, Dick. Happens to everyone,” she says loudly for everyone to hear, lowering her eyes at the counter. “No need to blame it on the coffee.”
His face is reddening with every passing moment as his anger boils.
He’s a breath away from blowing up. But Dick will do anything to maintain his role as a charming all-American man—a high school hockey star, a valedictorian, the golden boy of the town.
So, of course, in the blink of an eye, he swallows back his rage and his face shifts into a friendly one.
“I like your sense of humor, Karina,” he says, pointing his finger at her and grabbing the mug. “Always have.”
Karina’s smile drops a little before it’s blooming again full force. “Sure you do. Drink your coffee, Dick. I made it special, just for you.” She departs, but not before she sends him a meaningful wink.
He nearly chokes on the first sip he takes. There’s nothing in the coffee but coffee, but he doesn’t know that. So every time he sips from the mug, he’ll be wondering if she spat into it, but he’s too proud to show his fear.
And I can’t wait to see him struggle.