Hot Mess

I smiled, looking down. “You acted like you didn’t yesterday.”

“I figured Arielle was enough. Besides, I reckon I’m the first person you saw when you got into town and if you are runnin’, it wouldn’t do you no good to know I knew.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“Of course you do. I’m a lovely person. Now, tell me what Theo did to you. Does he need an ass whoopin’? I might not be his mama, but I’ll give him one.”

“No ass whoopings necessary,” I replied. “Honestly, it’s nothing. He’s just protecting Arielle, and I understand. I’m just salty and hungry.”

“Let me guess; he judged you without knowing you and told you to stay away from her.”

“Are you sure you should be working in a diner? A purple glitzy tent, a headscarf, and a crystal ball might be more fitting.”

She chuckled. “If you find a market for that here, you tell me, and we’ll split the profits. What do you want to eat?”

“Oh, uh—”

“Let me get you the breakfast special.” She turned away before I could respond, which was fine, because it didn’t sound much like an offer anyway. More of a demand.

It wasn’t like I was a stranger to the overbearing ways of the well-meaning Southern grandma. My mom’s side were born and raised in Louisiana until my dad had enough of the roads and moved us all up north.

At least he blamed the roads.

I figured it was probably more of my mee-maw than anything else.

Charity returned with crockery and a napkin for me. “I’m sure Theo didn’t mean no harm, honey. He’s just prickly. He protects his daughter, but he does have a judgey streak in him. Not the best listener. I bet he just assumed about your situation, hmm?”

“I didn’t do it,” I said, repeating what I’d said to Theo this morning. “I had no idea it even existed. My ex released it without my knowledge and now I don’t know what to do.”

She blew out a long breath, leaning forward on the bar. “Do you know it was definitely him?”

“It’s him in the tape. We broke up not long ago. He’s been trying to get back at me ever since, and when I didn’t bite, I guess he went to extreme measures to get my attention.”

“Did it work?”

“Not the way he wanted it to. He’s not worth the time in jail I’d have to serve.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “But you ran. Doesn’t that mean he won?”

I shook my head right back. “No. I live in New York. Too many people know where I live. I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without being harassed. I’m lucky my publicist was given a heads up so I could get the hell out of the city before it went live.”

“You couldn’t stop it?”

“No. We found out from a smaller media outlet I’ve worked with before. The journalist told us she’d heard it was coming, but nobody knew where from.”

There was the dinging of a bell, and Charity stood upright. “That’ll be your breakfast. Give me two seconds.”

She really was only a few seconds, because before I could take a mouthful of my coffee, she’d laid a huge plate of pancakes, sausage, bacon, scrambled egg, potatoes, and toast in front of me.

She was not kidding when she said it was the special.

It was more food on one plate than I’d eaten in days, and I was not going to wait another second to shovel this all in my mouth like a hungry T-Rex.

I dove in. I’d never eaten pancakes this fluffy, nor bacon this crispy, and by the time I’d scooped a forkful of egg into my mouth, I knew I’d never be able to scramble my own eggs by myself.

Less than ten minutes later, I set my fork down on the plate and covered my mouth when a little bubble of gas slipped up and popped. You know—those burps that aren’t really a burp but more like a bubble popping in the top of your throat?

Yeah, one of those.

Charity grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Good, huh?”

“So good,” I groaned, leaning back and resting my hand on my stomach. “If I weren’t a vlogging exile right now, I’d be blasting you to the internet.”

“Ah, but if you weren’t in your exile, you never would have found us.” She winked, whisking away my clean plate and serving me another cup of coffee at the same time.

If you weren’t in your exile, you never would have found us.

I sighed, looking around the diner. She wasn’t wrong. There was no way I ever would have ended up in Creek Keys if it weren’t for my exile, and even though I still wasn’t sure I was entirely comfortable with it, my stomach was glad to be here.

If my stomach was happy, I was happy.

I was a bit like a man in that respect.