Chapter One #2
“A daily special!” AJ called, much to my surprise.
After helping Gunner load the shells, he pushed them across the counter to a man wearing a suit and tie.
His hair was cut in a military style that wasn’t quite high and tight, but was close enough to tell me it once had been.
The most striking part about him was his eyes.
They were bright blue, almost the same color as the Christmas lights that lit up this park every season.
Without a doubt, he was a stranger to Bells Pass, as I would have remembered those eyes.
Sadly, he walked out of my line of sight, and since I didn’t want to look like a stalker, all I could do was return to helping the kids keep ahead on orders.
Before long, every one of those orders was for the daily special.
I wasn’t sure what was happening, but we kept filling orders, my gaze glued to the clock and the pan of rice that was dwindling fast. We had to shut the truck window at exactly one p.m. so the kids could return to school for their final hour of classes, but that was still fifteen minutes away.
With little left but a scoop, the crowd thinned, and before long, the park was empty.
It was three minutes to one. Another successful Taco Tuesday, if I’d ever seen one.
“I'll shut the window,” I said to everyone’s sigh of relief.
They’d all lock down their stations and then head back to school in the van that had just pulled in to pick them up. Cameron’s wife, Becca, was at the helm and waved as I leaned out the window. Once she left with the kids, I would drive the truck back to the diner and clean it up.
Before I could hop out and close the window, the man I’d seen earlier walked up to the truck again. The kids were already on their way out, so I waved to them before I addressed him. “I’m sorry, we’re closed. The kids are due back at school.”
“Darn,” he said, his plump lips in a frown. “I was hoping to take a few of those rice tacos to go.”
“Really?” I asked, surprise lifting my brows. “You liked them?”
“They were delicious,” he said. “I’ve never had anything like that before. They were certainly not something I expected from a food truck. Those tortilla shells were…” He made the chef’s kiss motion with his hand. “I told everyone behind me in line to try them.”
“Thank you so much,” I said with a genuine smile. “No one ordered them until you did, so I appreciate the assist. I have enough rice left for a few tacos. I’m happy to send them along with you. Are you just passing through?”
“You could say that,” he agreed. “How did you know?”
“A lucky guess,” I answered. “Not many people show up at the food truck in Bells Pass wearing a three-piece suit and Italian leather dress shoes. We’re more of a hard hat and yellow vest kind of town.”
“Tell me I don’t fit in without telling me I don’t fit in,” he muttered, and regret filled me.
“I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant at all!” I exclaimed, frowning to think I’d insulted a customer. I never wanted to do that, much less one who had so kindly spread the word about our food today. “Please, forgive me. Goodness, that was rude.”
He brushed his hand at me as though it didn’t matter.
“I was teasing you,” he said. “I’m well aware that I stuck out like a sore thumb today, but I was driving past on my way out of town, and I couldn’t resist stopping in.
I’m a sucker for a food truck and never expected to find one here.
I wear the suit for work, but I’m just a regular guy who loves tacos and food trucks. ”
I filled the last two shells with the remaining rice and tucked them into a to-go container before I handed them across the window.
“I appreciate your grace, but know I meant nothing by it.” He was holding out cash, but I waved it away.
“Consider them payment for making the daily special a success.”
With a smile, he grasped the container and held it up. “I hope everyone who tried them today spreads the word for you.” However, my insistence that they were on the house didn’t stop him from dumping the cash in the tip jar.
I crossed my fingers. “If you ever pass through town again, you can always stop into The Nightingale Diner. They have the same great food, but there’s a place to sit down,” I said, adding a wink.
Why was I winking at this guy? Good lord, get a grip, Jaelyn.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his pink lips smiling rather than frowning. “The downside is that you won’t be there.”
“Oh, I work there full-time,” I explained. “I just help out on the truck for my boss.” Rubbing my forehead, I couldn’t help but smile. “Sorry, TMI. I’m sure you have places to be. Enjoy the tacos.”
“Trust me, I will,” he said. “Thanks again!”
He waved before turning and walking away.
I noticed his gait was slightly off and hoped he hadn’t twisted his ankle while walking through the grass in his fancy shoes.
That was the last thing the diner needed.
If someone were to get hurt while visiting the food truck and sue the city, Mayor Tottle would likely shut us down.
I sighed in relief when he made it to his car, an Audi SUV by the looks of it, and the looks weren’t cheap.
The clock said I should close the window and drive the old girl back to the diner, but I didn’t do that.
I leaned on the counter and watched him drive away, knowing I’d never see him again, but daydreaming about a Bells Pass where he was a resident.
Was he out of my league? Yes. Did that matter?
Not when it came to daydreams. There were no leagues in those, just memories of blue eyes and pink lips to brighten your day.