Ginny raised her chin at the snide comment. “I’m ten minutes late,” she said calmly, sliding an order pad into her front pocket. “I worked thirty minutes over to cover for you yesterday and an hour the day before. I’ll put my timecard up against yours any day of the week.”
The woman’s glare was hot enough to reheat the coffee cups of the customer’s sitting at the counter. Jerking off her apron, Carly went through the swinging doors that led to the kitchen.
Shrugging off Carly’s anger, she got busy waiting on the customers, not stopping until she locked the door after the last one left. She tiredly wiped down the tables and set them up for service in the morning.
“Night, Ginny. You need a ride home?”
“No thanks, Toby. I have my car.”
“You want me to stay?”
“No, you go ahead. You have to be tired.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“The sheriff’s office is across the street; I’m good. You go.”
Ginny locked the door behind him. Then, going behind the counter, she turned Toby’s radio on, listening to it as she sat at the counter to roll silverware. Hearing a tap at the door, Ginny turned toward the door. Her lips tightened when she saw who it was.
Carter Dawkins’s conceited face stared back at her, giving another sharp rap with his knuckles for her to open the door.
She casually went to the door as if she were going to open it for him. Instead of unlocking it, though, she flicked the switch off the blinking Open sign.
“I want a hamburger,” he yelled through the door.
“Then go home and fry one.” Ginny didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t care if he heard her or not. Carter would get the message when she didn’t open the door.
His landscaped grey eyebrows frowned at her.
She rolled her eyes and took out her cell phone, speaking loudly enough for Carter to hear. “Sheriff, I think someone is trying to break in the diner. I’m afraid to go outside to my car. Could you ask a deputy to come over and escort me?”
“I’m at the front desk filling out a report. I see who’s at the door. I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
Ginny turned, giving her former boss her back.
Sliding the container of silverware to the back of the counter, she grabbed her purse and her street clothes before grabbing the keys to the diner from the register before going back to the door. Dawkins was gone and the sheriff was patiently waiting for her.
“Evening, Knox,” she said, greeting the sheriff as she went out the door, then locked it.
“How many times have I told you not to stay at the diner by yourself?”
“Too many to count,” she quipped as he escorted her to her car.
“It’s not a joke. I told you last week to come by the office and put a restraining order out on him.”
“His days of being able to hang out at the diner are almost over. I gave my notice today.”
“I’d feel better if you took out the restraining order.”
Ginny unlocked her car door. “Willa hired me to clean and cook for The Last Riders. After I serve my notice, I don’t think Carter will be bothering me anymore, especially when he finds out where my new job is. Do you?”
The huge sheriff’s lips twitched in humor. “No.”
Ginny grinned. “See? All’s well, and it’s going to end well.”
He shook his head at her, his humor turning to concern. “Any other woman in town would have been screaming at me to arrest him for harassing and stalking.”
“Knox, I’m going to tell you a little secret, not many people in town knows this about me.”
He narrowed his eyes on her as if she were going to confess to having a gun to protect herself. She could see he was just waiting to warn her not to shoot herself.
Grinning wider, she rested an arm over the car door, lowering her voice so no one could hear her secret, despite no one being around this late at night.
“I’m not any other woman.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ginny pretended to pinch herself, the skin on her arm too sensitive from doing it so often to actually squeeze, then she twirled around with her arms open in her brand-new living room. Well, not exactly brand-new, but new to her.
Ginny was waiting for Willa to call and tell her to leave—that she had changed her mind and she wasn’t going to sell her the home that she had lived in before she married Pastor Dean. In a short two weeks, she had gone from saving to move into a one-bedroom apartment, into a soon-to-be owner of a home that had three bedrooms.
Making herself a grilled cheese sandwich, she thought about going upstairs and asking her new roommate if she wanted one, then changed her mind, not wanting to disturb Bliss if she was taking a nap.