This is how you’re going to get yourself and your mother killed. I know better than to react this way. If the man behind the shades works for my father, I’m as good as dead. My only hope is that he doesn’t know about Mother.
“Here ya go, Sunshine.” Franky slides a plate in front of me.
“Thanks.” The mountain of food has my stomach in knots. I sip the coffee Danielle poured and peek through the window again.
“Hottie at table fourteen,” Melinda says as she bursts into the kitchen. Her shift started the same time as mine, at the six am opening, but Melinda is chronically late. She says it doesn’t matter because the diner never fills up until seven anyway, which is mostly true. “He yours or is Dani giving him the Beach and Breakfast charm?”
“Um, I think he’s only here for the coffee.” I pick up the breakfast sandwich and nibble the crust of the bagel.
“I call that bullshit. Our coffee’s decent but a stud like that gets his Java the Hut.”
Beach & Breakfast is trendy in ambiance and serves a nice balance between greasy diner food and fancy salads, so many of their customers order for brunch. Mostly, it’s the beachside dining that attracts our diners.
“Gia, honey,” Danielle said from the other side of the pass-through window. “Table fourteen is requesting you. I tried to take his order, but he specifically asked for you.”
“He knows my name?” Not good. So not good.
“I don’t know about that. He asked for his waitress.”
“Did he call her his sexy waitress with the big brown eyes? Or the one with the nice ass and rack? ‘cause that’s how Benny refers to her.”
I roll my eyes. Benny is Melinda’s loser boyfriend whose eyes roam more than a stray cat.
“He was quite polite when asking for her.”
I take a final sip of coffee and attempt to swallow the bagel that has congealed into a cement block in my throat. With the diner filling up, I figure I’m mostly safe. If the guy works for my father, he won’t abduct me in broad daylight in the middle of a crowd.
At least, I hope not. Lorenzo is the most evil, dangerous man alive. He considers himself invincible, so I wouldn’t put it past him to shoot down a crowd of innocent people to get to me. Although, it wouldn’t be his style. Big shows of terrorism aren’t his thing. On the outside, he appears the consummate businessman.
Our vineyards produce some of the best wines in the world. The resorts are popular among the rich and famous. If only they knew about the evil that lurked underground...
“Gia? You okay to work your shift, or should I call in Piper?”
“Ugh. Not Piper. She’s too chirpy and ditsy. I hate working with her,” Melinda whines.
“No. I’m okay.” I stand and plaster on a fake smile, making my way to table fourteen. This time, the man has his head dipped toward the menu he holds in his hands. “Danielle said you were ready to order?”
He looks up and slowly lowers his sunglasses. His eyes are so bright and blue that they seem incongruous to his dark and brooding features. The seriousness in them almost has me running again, but then the corner of his mouth lifts, and lines crinkle around his eyes.
The man is devastatingly handsome, and he knows it. He hangs his glasses on the collar of his shirt and leans forward on his elbows. “I didn’t mean to be so”—he straightens, drops his gaze to my mouth, then lifts it to my eyes again— “rude.”
His smile is now strained, like giving an apology is not something he is accustomed to. There is a hint of an accent, which any other woman would find sexy.
“Sure.” I lift a shoulder, acting like I hadn’t even noticed his rudeness. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll have the arugula salad with pear and goat cheese. Please,” he adds, as if the act of being nice is foreign to him.
I snort and cast my eyes up at the ceiling while jotting down his order.
“You find my order amusing?”
I tuck the notepad into my apron feeling more confident than I had ten seconds ago. The sexy, mysterious man was typical southern Californian, minus the beach-blond hair.
“Nope. Your salad will be right up.”
For some reason his order puts me at ease. Had he ordered steak and eggs, or even home fries and an omelet, I would have been more worried. I check in with tables thirteen and twelve, topping off their coffee and taking their orders.
Less than ten minutes later, I carry out Leader of the Assholes’ order and set it down in front of him. “Enjoy.” I wait a beat to see if he’ll say anything. He doesn’t. I move on.