Chapter Two
October
“Order up!” Mason called from the kitchen, and I dropped the silverware roll into the tray and pulled the plate from the window.
“But is it edible?” I asked, our longstanding joke still in play.
“Fair to middling,” he answered with a fake heavy sigh.
Mason Hadley had worked as the head chef at the Nightingale Diner for nearly fifteen years.
Most people would say you can’t have a chef working at a diner, but most people would be wrong.
Mason graduated from culinary school and could have worked anywhere in the world, but he loves the town of Bells Pass, and there’s no place he’d rather work than the Nightingale.
There was a reason the diner was busy from sunup to sundown.
Mason was the reason people drove here from the city to eat, rather than us driving to the city to eat.
The food is out of this world, and the number of people we serve daily provides everyone with a living wage you don’t often see in the city.
Mason is married to Mel, the manager of the Bells Pass Bakery, and together, they have two children: Holly, who will graduate from Bells Pass High School this spring, and Noel, who will be nine in December.
As far as power couples go in Bells Pass, they’re one of them, along with my boss, and owner of the diner and the bakery, Ivy and Shep Lund.
Ivy and Shep were born and raised here and had been best friends for nearly their entire lives.
It wasn’t until Ivy took over the diner from Lucille Bevywetter about twelve years ago that they realized they were so much more than best friends.
Now, they’re the proud parents of two little ones.
Lucy and Bryce, both of whom grew up at the diner.
Lucy is in third grade, and as hard as it is to believe, Bryce is in kindergarten.
I set the plate of food down on the table at booth six. “Do you need anything else, Audrey?”
“Thank you, dear,” she said in her usual sweet tone. “This will do it for now. When Alan arrives, we’ll share dessert.”
“Alan is coming? Do you want me to have Mason prepare a daily special for him, too?”
Audrey glanced out the window, and I could tell she was nervous. “I just don’t know. He’s late, but he’s not answering his phone.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said to soothe her. “Maybe he’s driving and can’t answer his phone.”
“You’re probably right, dear,” she said, biting her lower lip. “It always makes me nervous when he goes off by himself. His lungs are so much better than they were, but I still worry.”
Alan Violet had been in an industrial work accident years ago that burned his lungs. It was touch-and-go in the beginning, but now, twelve years later, he uses only a small portable oxygen tank and can participate in life again, including driving.
“That’s natural, Audrey,” I said, as though I knew anything about being married.
“What is he off doing tonight?” With my hip braced against the booth, I waited for her to answer as though I had nothing else to do.
We were between rushes, so it was easy to spare some time for one of my favorite people.
“Oh, well,” she said, sitting up straighter and leaning over the table. “He’s with our grandsons. They’re having some bonding time at the archery range.”
“Well, see, he’s not alone, and I’m sure the boys would call you if there was a problem.”
“True,” she said, nodding. “I didn’t think of that. I wonder why they didn’t pick up his phone if he was driving. Maybe there’s been an accident.”
Audrey was a bit of a natural worrywart, so rather than allow her to spiral, I jumped back in. “Archery? You don’t say. That’s not a sport you often hear kids doing anymore.”
“So true,” she agreed with a nod, her snow-white hair not moving an inch. “But my son-in-law loves to hunt, so he raised the boys to do the same. Now, they also participate in an archery league. Alan is going to be one of the judges this year.”
“Well, that’s exciting,” I said, pushing myself off the table to stand. “It’s so nice to hear he can do these things again.”
The bell tinkled over the door, and I automatically turned to see who it was. “Speak of the devil,” I said as her husband approached the table with two teen boys in tow.
Alan kissed Audrey’s cheek while the boys slid into the booth across from her. “Sorry we’re late, Grandma,” one of them said. “We know how you worry about Grandpa, but he was fine. The practice just ran long.”
Alan sat next to Audrey and put his arm around her before she began to speak. “I was a little worried, but Jaelyn kept me company.”
“I was just telling Audrey that I know how much you like the Spanish rice tacos,” I added. “Should I have Mason put together a few more of the daily specials?”
All three Violet boys raised their hands, making Audrey giggle.
“You got it. Hard or soft shell?”
“Soft,” they all said in unison, and I chuckled.
“Soft it is. I’ll bring a round of drinks as well. We’ll have it up in just a few.”
I jogged back to the window, ready to give Mason the order orally until I could put it into the computer, but he was already plating it. “I read your mind,” he said.
“More like you eavesdropped on my conversation.”
“It does get rather boring back here when the diner empties out.”
I snorted because that was the last thing this place ever was.
If we weren’t slammed with customers, we were busy reloading our supplies from being slammed with customers.
The bell tinkled over the door again, and I turned my head to see a man in a three-piece suit carrying a briefcase walk through the door. I recognized the man and the suit.
“I’ll get him seated and be back for these,” I said to Mason, who waved me off.
After grabbing a menu, I walked toward him. “Welcome to the Nightingale Diner. I’m Jaelyn. Are you eating in or taking out?”
Was I acting as though I didn’t recognize him? Absolutely, because I still remember the total blunder I’d made at the food truck last month. He’d been more than gracious, but I was still embarrassed.
“Hello again,” he said, glancing around the nearly empty diner. “I'll eat in as your food came highly recommended.” He winked, and it shot heat to the part of me that I had long ignored and would continue to ignore, no matter how many times this sexy, suited man winked at me.
After motioning him toward a booth, I slid the menu onto the table. “Welcome back to Bells Pass. It’s a surprise to see you again. Did you make a special trip for the tacos?”
He pointed at me with a grin that did magical things to my lady parts.
The lady parts that I once again had to remind myself to ignore.
“I looked for the truck today, but someone named Indigo said it was in the shop. I was crushed until she told me you were hosting Taco Tuesday here, and the daily special was called The Spanish Rooster. I could only hope it was the same thing I’d been dreaming about for the last month. ”
I bounced up on my toes with a grin. What? Okay, so it made me happy that people loved my tacos, and besides, the name is enough to make anyone smile. “Indigo works at the bakery,” I explained. “But she’s married to the man who helps me with the food truck.”
“I ran into her in the hospital parking lot,” he explained. “I’ll admit that the name of the daily special intrigued me.”
“After your glowing review, people returned the next week looking for the rice tacos. It seemed they needed a name, so we did a little social media contest. Some names were hilarious, but I was happy with the winner. We’re also offering them in softshell now. Just in case that interests you.”
His eyes lit up, and he nodded. “Can I have one of each?”
“This is a diner. You can have one of anything and everything your heart desires. We also have the best pie in town. Just sayin’.”
“That’s good to hear because I haven’t met a pie I didn’t like. First, hit me with The Spanish Rooster, hard and soft, and a bowl of that beautiful guac. I’ll decide on the pie after I stuff my face with the rooster.”
“You got it,” I said as I accepted the menu from his hand. “Anything to drink?”
There was no way not to notice how he looked me up and down before answering. It left tendrils of heat across my cheeks that I prayed he didn’t notice. “Black coffee would be great.”
“Coming right up,” I said before spinning on my heel and practically running to the computer to put in his order.
There was something too sexy about this stranger, and most of me was glad he was just passing through.
The little part of me that wished he was sticking around knew I wasn’t his type, even if he looked at me like he was a starving man and I was his lunch.
It was just after one in the afternoon when my shift ended, but I still couldn’t get the man who had stopped in for dinner the night before out of my head.
He’d gotten called away shortly after finishing his tacos and had thrown some bills on the table and taken off before I could even ask him his name.
Another missed opportunity, and the chances I’d get another anytime soon were slim.
Especially if he was only in town once a month and I didn’t work every day.
Then again, the food truck would be fixed by tomorrow, so if he showed up again for Taco Tuesday next week, we’d be there for him.
I glanced at my watch and grimaced. Our days on the food truck were numbered.
With only three weeks left in the season, we were counting down to our final days until spring.