“Got plans for the weekend?” I ask Danielle.
“Oh, of course. I’ve got my calendar completely booked,” she laughs. “Which really means I’ll probably end up watching Netflix while scooping up egg salad from a bowl with cheese Pringles. Which I totally didn’t do last night.”
“That’s an interesting combination.”
“It was surprisingly good. I mean, I assume it would be if it weren’t too disgusting for me to try.” She flashes a pretty smile, and I’m back to needing a cold shower.
“How’s the job search going?”
She’s about to answer when one of our regulars walks up to the bar. “Hey, George.” She reaches under the bar for a glass. “Don’t tell me. Let me try to read your mind.” She sets the glass on the counter and closes her eyes. “An Old Fashioned and a side order of cheese fries.”
George gasps, throwing out his hands in fake shock. He orders the same thing every time he comes in, which is nearly every day. He’s a bit of a local legend around here, but his tale of war hero turned drunk doesn’t have the happy ending we all hoped for. Still, he’s as respected as he can be, and is one of the more polite drunks we have sitting at the bar day in and day out.
“I don’t know how you do it!”
Danielle laughs and starts making his drink. “It’s a gift. You know I almost considered running away and joining the circus as a psychic as a kid.” She finishes his drink and brings it over. “How are the grandkids? Have you been going over to see them like we talked about?”
For someone who doesn’t plan to stay in Eastwood for long, she sure gets along well here. I step away, getting a beer for another regular, and then go to one of the tables to take a food order and bring it to the kitchen. We’re going on two months of opening early, and we’ve been consistently busy. If things keep going the way they are, we plan on hiring another waitress or two as well as more help in the kitchen. Never in a million years did I think we’d make this much more just by opening in the early afternoon.
And it’s all thanks to Danielle.
“Uh-oh.” George slurps his drink. “The Sheriff is here. You up to no good again?” he asks Danielle.
She gives him a wink. “Always.”
Knowing my brother always stops in on Fridays to take food home for lunch, I already put in his order. I go back into the kitchen and grab it.
“Thanks,” he says and looks around. “It’s crowded already.”
“Yeah.” My eyes go to Danielle, watching her smile as she talks to Tommy Oaken. He’s leaning over the bar, eyes flitting away from Danielle’s to stare at her tits. “It was a good idea to open for lunch. We might start opening early on weekdays too.”
She laughs, reaching out to touch his arm. Something tightens in my stomach. I clench my jaw and look away. I’m not jealous. There’s nothing to be jealous of, right?
Dammit.
I’ve never been a good liar.
“Logan?” Wes repeats in a tone that lets me know he’s said my name more than once.
“Yeah?” I turn my attention back to Wes, and a small smile plays on his lips as he follows my gaze. He’s not one to meddle and is my only sibling who hasn’t given me shit over my lack of relationship with Danielle. But that look in his eyes is almost as bad as Quinn and Scarlet forcing us under mistletoe three times last Christmas.
“Never mind.” He takes the bag of takeout and gets up to leave but turns back to face me. “You’re smart. Second smartest in the family after Quinn. So stop being stupid.”Chapter 6DanielleI’m fairly sure the reason the universe never granted me magical powers is because it knew I’d use them in nefarious ways. Like that speeding ticket I got a few weeks ago? I’d make the cop think he was giving me a ticket when all he was handing me was a blank sheet of paper. The shoes I’ve been eyeing but can’t afford would ring up at half the price and no one would be none the wiser.
And this guy sitting in front of me?
This lying, cheating, slimy bastard?
I’d turn him into a rat. No…that’s an insult to rodents everywhere. They’re kind of cute with their little whiskers and the way they hold things in their tiny hands when they eat.
Maybe I’d turn him into a worm. Oh—no, I’ve got a better idea. A stink bug that just happens to be flying over the freeway when a semi-truck barrels down the road and smacks right into him, smearing him all over the—well, now I know why I don’t have cool powers.
I turn away from the table, fake smile disappearing from my face the moment my back is turned. James Hills has a wife. A wife who just found out she’s expecting a baby boy. I know because she told me when I saw her at the farmer’s market just a few days ago.