Until then, I had adventure to attend to. Friends to introduce to life in Ashford and a business to begin. I had these dogs to get back home and fed before they passed out in their oversized beds in front of the fireplace.

I stood, stretching my leg and groaning as I did before whistling to the dogs. They hopped up, knowing the routine, and followed behind me. I got home just as the sun set and made all three of us dinner before settling down on the couch to watch a movie. A couch that seemed way too big for one person.

2

LAUREN

“Thank you, have a nice day,” I said as the register slammed shut and the little old man walked away.

He was a regular, like most of the people who came into Dina’s diner. They filtered in during the same fifteen-minute window every time they showed up, usually every other day, if not every day. They sat in the same general area, if not the exact same seats. They ordered the same breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. They had the same refill schedule of their coffees and sodas and sweet teas.

In a lot of ways, the repetition was nice. It was predictable, if nothing else. I could wake up every Monday morning and know who I would see for sure, who I was likely to see, how busy things would get at certain times, when I could take breaks. I had my days already set before I even got out of bed. I could depend on them that way.

But a few things had changed in the last year. For one, I was promoted to manager, meaning I wasn’t waiting on the tables as often as I used to, nor was I as consistently busy, blurring the day with work. Instead, I was often stuck behind the register, ringing people up at the counter who sat on the stools rather than in the booths where the waitresses took their payments. I was also commonly behind the counter, dipping into the kitchen and doing any number of things that needed to be caught up on.

The other thing that changed for me was that my best friend wasn’t there anymore. Harleigh had quit working at the diner since she had her twins and was focusing on starting her writing career. I was incredibly happy for her, but at the same time, I missed having her around. I missed joking with her, commiserating with her over the busy days and the boring ones. The inside jokes about customers and life in general.

The changes had been enough that it was beginning to erode my love of working there. For so long I had waited tables at Dina’s, blissfully happy and not wanting to do much else. As long as I had my best friend working with me and made enough money to be comfortable, I was happy. But without Harleigh there, and now with the added changes of being a manager instead of a waitress, I was burned out.

There were other reasons I didn’t enjoy being at the diner as much anymore, but the less I thought about them, the better. The less I thought about him, the better.

I glanced up as the old man went out of the door, and the Help Wanted sign that had been stuck there since Harleigh left stared back at me mockingly. No one had applied—no one had even come in asking about a job.

I was still staring at the sign when my eyes refocused on the person coming up to the door. Panic struck me almost instantly, and I ducked into the back of house, the tiny kitchen and office room behind the counter where the griddle and the coffee and ice cream machines were. Today of all days, I was actually waiting some tables as one of our other servers was off. Another server, Rebecca, was back there, grabbing a plate for one of her customers.

“Rebecca,” I called as I ducked into the office.

She turned confusedly, and her eyes settled on me. She was a sweet girl but a little ditzy. She smiled her warm smile and walked over, nearly dropping the plate of fries in her hand in the process. I winced as she fought for balance.

“Yes, Lauren?” she said.

“Ashton is out there,” I said. “He’s going to sit in my section again. Can you take him? I’ll switch for one of your tables.”

She glanced out of the doorway into the seating area and then back to me, pursing her lips a bit.

“But that’s your section,” she said.

“Yes, darling. I know. I’ll switch one of your tables for his,” I said. “I’ll even give you the tips from it. I just don’t want to deal with him.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, finally getting it. “He’s here again, though?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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