Chapter 4
VICTOR
Ever since she’d made that filthy sound while eating his food, Victor was having a hard time convincing his cock to be professional.
He loved cooking for people, and the fact that Lizzy loved the food enough to moan, well, that was a huge turn-on.
More than a few of his past bad decisions had been the result of someone liking his cooking.
With Lizzy, it was ten times more complicated.
There was history there and, if he were honest, some lingering feelings on his end.
Then she’d walked in, even more attractive than he’d remembered.
Her hair was jet-black except for the white streaks framing her perfectly rounded face, her high-waisted jeans hugged her soft belly and thick thighs perfectly, and the low V of her red polka-dot top displayed her breasts like two freshly baked rolls he wanted to sink his teeth into.
A dribble of syrup had landed on her tits, and the urge to lick it off was going to haunt his dreams. He hoped she hadn’t noticed.
It would only make this conversation more awkward.
He’d been putting off telling her about the stickier part of Frank’s will. When the ball dropped, she’d looked less than enthused. A small part of him had hoped she’d be excited to work together and that maybe they’d rekindle some of that almost-not-really romance from when they were young.
“You’re joking,” Lizzy said. “Why would Frank leave half his assets to you?”
“I’m part owner. Have been for almost five years.
As for the house, only Frank could tell you why.
” Victor leaned back against the counter, arms crossed as he watched her ample chest heave.
He’d miscalculated the delivery, and there were no do-overs.
The thought made his scars itch. He had to fix this.
“Why did he leave me anything if you’re part owner? And how are you part owner?” she asked.
He didn’t have a good answer for her first question.
Even after working with Frank for close to two decades, he didn’t know much about the man.
Frank didn’t share details of his personal life.
The single photo in the office was of Lizzy in elementary school.
One thing Victor was certain of was that Frank loved his daughter.
Even if he hadn’t been good at showing it.
Explaining her father to her felt tactless, given the circumstances though.
“Frank’s Diner had been struggling for a while.
We had a particularly bad season five years ago.
Frank nearly closed the diner. I’d been saving up for a while to buy my own restaurant, and I decided I’d rather keep this place open than risk it with a new business.
And we became business partners after that. ”
There was more to the story, but he wouldn’t burden her with the truth.
Victor suspected Frank wanted to pair them up.
He’d made a joke about it once. Or at least he’d thought it was a joke at the time.
Victor had secretly liked the idea too. It was a nice fantasy.
Marrying Lizzy would mean becoming a real part of the family.
Which was ridiculous, of course. They hadn’t even talked since high school.
Whatever Frank’s reasons, Victor had bought half the diner, with plans for Frank to retire a year or two after that, but time marched on and Frank never slowed down.
Lizzy’s face was completely devoid of emotion as she stared at the wall behind him.
He shifted uncomfortably, waiting for her to ask more questions.
She must have tons, as this was her family legacy.
She’d come all this way. Surely she was ready to learn the business and help save the diner from the edge it was teetering on.
“Why didn’t you tell me this over the phone?” she demanded.
“You seemed to be under duress the first time we talked. I didn’t want to burden you with that particular detail.”
The bell above the door rang, and Vivianne, who worked the afternoon shift, strolled in, a bag slung over her shoulder.
“Afternoon, Victor…” She glanced at Lizzy, raising her brows in question.
Lizzy still had that mile-long stare, and he thought now wasn’t the time to make introductions. He shook his head, and Vivianne slipped into the back room to get ready for her shift. The dinner rush would be starting soon.
Then Lizzy stood up, hands slapping against the counter as she stared at him. “Listen, I don’t care what my father’s plans were. I have no intention of running this place. I plan to sell, so either you buy me out or we put it on the market together.”
Victor’s brain short-circuited at her declaration.
She had to be joking. Lizzy loved Frank’s as much as him.
She’d been the reason he’d fallen in love with the diner, along with the way she’d talked about it when they were kids as if it were an enchanted forest where dreams came true.
And while it wasn’t that, the staff were like family and this place was his home.
Hers too, even though she’d been gone for ages.
Vivianne, who was doing her side work suspiciously close to them, audibly gasped, then spun towards Lizzy. “But it’s your family legacy! You’re the third-generation Stein to own Frank’s!”
“And I don’t want it. Look, I know it sounds romantic, inheriting a cute diner in a small town. But that’s not my dream. It was Frank’s. I’m done living for others.”
Trudy looked up from the bussing station, face paling. “You can’t sell. Where will I work that will accommodate my schedule?” Trudy’s voice rose in panic.
“Victor, you won’t sell, right? This place has been in the family for generations.” Vivianne gave Lizzy a scathing look as she turned her attention to him.
He blinked at the two women. He’d expected this conversation to go a lot smoother than this. But he hadn’t considered the grief and shock she was under.
The door’s bell rang again as the first of the afternoon regulars shuffled in.
An elderly man named Dave, who came in every Thursday to order a Coke and an extra-crispy bacon BLT, headed over to his usual booth in Trudy’s section without acknowledging any of them.
Trudy looked torn between greeting her customer and begging Victor not to sell.
“It’s ok. Your job is safe,” Victor assured her.
She didn’t look convinced.
“Please reconsider. I’ve got kids, and I’m the sole breadwinner,” she said to Lizzy before heading over to greet Dave.
Vivianne was typing on her phone, no doubt texting Annalise and Jason about the new development. Victor felt the situation slipping out of his control. If he didn’t handle this right, rumors of Frank’s shutting down would be all over town in no time.
“Let’s talk in my office.” He lifted the swinging ledge of the counter and gestured for her to join him in the back.
Lizzy’s face was flushed pink as she followed him into the back room. Clyde, the afternoon cook, was doing prep in the back, and with a nod, Victor signaled for him to go work the flat top as he opened the door to Frank’s messy office.
There were papers scattered everywhere, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment as he shuffled through the mess on his desk, trying to organize it into somewhat neat stacks.
There was hardly room for a desk and two chairs in the room, and when he stepped out of her way to let her sit, her hips brushed against his side and his entire attention became focused on the way she pursed her cherry lips and tapped her foot on the linoleum floor instead of finding the manila envelope holding Frank’s last will and testament.
“Did you bring in your most sympathetic employees to try to coerce me?” she asked.
“What? No,” he said, pausing in his riffling for the will. This wasn’t the Lizzy he remembered, she’d been kind and empathetic. The woman standing across from him was paranoid and jaded. What had happened to her?
“Then, why else would you lure me here under false pretenses and announce our co-ownership in front of my new employees?”
“We’re understaffed, I couldn’t get away from the diner, and it was convenient…
” He realized he’d botched things. He had this romanticized version of Lizzy he’d fallen for as a teen.
As if the bubbly teenage waitress who’d greet patrons with a smile was going to save the diner in its darkest moment. Perhaps he’d been hoping for too much.
Her shoulders sagged as if it’d taken all she had to confront him, and she slumped into the chair across from him, head in her hands.
“This might possibly be the worst week of my life.” She groaned.
He didn’t know how to comfort her and instead redoubled his efforts to find the will.
Maybe if she saw Frank’s intent written in black and white, she’d understand and carry out his wishes.
He spotted it tucked beneath the schedule sheet he’d been wrestling with all afternoon and slid the envelope over to Lizzy.
She glanced up at it. “What’s this?”
“Frank’s will.”
She sighed. “I believe you. There’s no need to prove you’re part owner. I just wasn’t planning on staying long is all. I was hoping to find a realtor and list both the house and diner for sale.”
His stomach clenched at the thought. “You can’t.”
“Well, obviously not. I’d be putting families out on the street if I did,” she said with a bitter tone.
She chewed her lip.
It was true though. There were few reliable jobs in Pumpkin Hollow. That was the downside to small-town living. It was worse for those who couldn’t live stealthily in the mundane world, like him. But he didn’t need to tell her that.
“Look, it’s not that I blame you. Neither of us chose this situation we’re in. Frank always did what he wanted…” She sighed.
Frank could be stubborn, but surely, he wouldn’t have thrust a diner on his daughter if he’d known she clearly didn’t want it. He didn’t do things without a reason either. If Frank chose them both to own the diner, Victor wanted to honor his wishes.
“Could you buy me out of my half? I’ll sell it for less than it’s worth. I just need the money, don’t ask why.” She was gripping the manila envelope tight enough to crinkle it as she looked at him with a pleading look.
More than anything, he wanted to give her what she wanted.
“How much do you need?” Victor asked, knowing full well his bank account was dangerously close to empty.
“If I throw out a number, would you have it?”
He shook his head. “Honestly, no. Everything I have goes back into Frank’s.”
“Then, we have no choice but to sell the place,” she said, setting the will back on the desk between them and crossing her arms over her chest, thrusting up her breasts. This really was torture. She shouldn’t be this gorgeous while delivering the worst news of his life.
The diner was his life. He couldn’t give it up. He thought she’d want this too.
“Give me until Halloween.”
She blinked at him. “Pardon?”
“I’ll find a way to buy you out of the property, whether it’s through a loan or the diner’s profits. I’ll meet whatever demands you have if you’ll let me try to save the diner.”
“Are you sure? The restaurant isn’t exactly bursting with customers.”
“Just wait. It’s almost the busy season. Lots of people roll into town for Halloween,” he said with a confidence he didn’t feel.
She stared back at him as if she could see through his ludicrous claims, one perfect brow arched.
“Trust me.” He thrust out his hand for her to shake.
She stared at it for a moment, and hesitantly, she grasped his hand.
That first brush of their fingers felt like a bolt of lightning up his arm.
He jerked away, terrified by the fizzle of attraction he was feeling for this gorgeous and infuriating woman.
She represented everything he wanted to protect the diner and himself from.
“Until Halloween. And I’m staying at Frank’s place until then,” she declared.
“Is now a bad time to mention?—”
He was cut off from telling her by Vivianne popping her head in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got a crowd.”
He could hear the buzz of conversation. It sounded as if every table was full, which rarely happened. This wasn’t their usual dinner rush.
“Excuse me,” Victor said and followed Vivianne out into the dining room. Every single booth was full, and the POS printer was churning with orders. Clyde was panicking behind the flat top.
“Where did this rush come from?” Victor asked.
“I posted about a free shake deal on our social media accounts. I wanted to prove a point.” Vivianne tossed her hair over her shoulders.
“Who’s paying for all these free shakes?” Victor asked her.
“Isn’t that for you to figure out?” She winked and went over to tend to the couple who’d sat at the bar.
Victor sighed and went into the kitchen. He’d find a way to save the diner, one way or another.