deserve some time off, Frank.”
He waved that off. “If I retire, who’s going to make the famous Morning Glory burger?”
“Me.”
Frank laughed. “No offense, Stace, but you can’t even make grilled cheese. Your dad, God rest his soul, was the same way. Good at the books, good in the front of the house, but a nightmare on the grill.” Frank’s big brown eyes softened. “I know one thing, though. He’d be awful proud of you.”
She glanced around the diner, at the building that her father had built. The morning glory border he had painted himself, the chairs and tables he’d picked out. Every wall in this place still seemed to beat with her father’s heart. She missed him, but at least here, she could be close to him, and his memory. For a second, her father’s presence filled her heart, surrounded her like a hug. “Thank you, Frank.”
He shrugged, then fiddled with a spoon on the counter. “How’s things with Jeremy?”
“We’re getting there. He’s a handful.” Handful didn’t even begin to describe her nephew, who was angry at his mother, angry at the world…just plain angry. He needed an outlet, something to help him work through the shock of his mother’s abandonment, but Stace had yet to find anything the boy would stick with. She bit back a sigh. Later, she’d worry about that. For now, she’d focus on making enough money to handle the additional cost of an extra mouth to feed. While at the same time trying to find a way to increase business at the diner.
“Poor kid’s been through a lot,” Frank said. “You need anything, you come ask me. I’ll be there for you.”
Stace’s hand covered Frank’s beefy palm. The older man had already been a great presence in Jeremy’s life, serving as a surrogate grandfather just as he’d served as Stace’s surrogate father. Frank had given her a raise she hadn’t asked for, quietly dropped off a new TV at her house when hers broke, and taken Jeremy school shopping when he’d refused to go with Stace. Even as she insisted she could handle it herself, Frank stepped in anyway. “I know you will.”
Frank’s eyes misted, but he let out a cough to cover for the momentary emotion. Frank was a man who loved well and hard, but rarely let that emotion show. Stace had only seen him cry once, and the sight of it had broken her heart because she knew the pain in Frank’s heart lanced deep.
Frank cleared his throat. “Anyway, I promise, I’ll hire the next person who walks in that door.” He pointed toward the diner’s glass entrance.
“Right.” She laughed. “You’ve been promising to hire another server for two weeks now, and no one has even gotten past the application stage.” Stace pointed at the Help Wanted sign propped in the window. “That thing is doing nothing but gathering dust.”
He shrugged. “I’m picky. I can’t find enough Stace clones.”
“Now you’re just buttering me up.”
Frank grinned. “Did it work?”
“Yes. But just for today.” She swiped the order pad off the counter, and tucked the pen into her pocket. Every time she reached the quitting point, Frank found a way to convince her to stay. Heck, he was right. She’d have stayed with or without the jokes and compliments. Her loyalty to Frank Simpson ran bone-deep, and always would.
“Good.” He thumbed the straps of his apron and let out a long breath. “Back to the fryer for me. Those bloomin’ onions don’t bloom on their own, you know.” Just as Frank turned back to the kitchen, the door of the diner opened, causing the overhead bell to let out a soft jangle. The two of them pivoted toward the sound.
Riley McKenna.
If there was a customer Stace dreaded almost as much as Walter, it was Riley. He was a handsome man—if one was the kind of woman who found blue eyes and dark hair appealing. And a charming man—if one liked a man with a ready smile and quick wit. But he was also a playboy, and if there was one thing Stace had no tolerance for, it was playboys.
Even if he took her breath away when he smiled. Damn, he was a good-looking man. Too bad he was all wrong for her.
She’d seen his picture in the papers with the girlfriend of the minute, heard other women talk about him with an actual swoon in their voice. As far as she could tell, the youngest McKenna hadn’t followed in the family traditions of meaningful work or charitable organizations. Unless attending every party in the greater Boston area was considered giving back to society.
Stacey avoided men like Riley McKenna like the plague. She’d learned a long time ago that a nice smile and charming words were merely a cover for deeper flaws. Thank God she’d woken up before she married such a man. She’d known Jim for years, and fallen for his charismatic ways over and over again. He’d proposed on a Sunday and left town on a Tuesday—
With a girl he’d met the night before. She’d been fooled for so long, blind to his lies, because she’d wanted to believe in that smile. It had taken her a year to get over the betrayal, and from here on out, Stace would avoid men like that, thank you very much. And that meant avoiding Riley McKenna. And his smile.
Riley nearly always sat in her section and ordered an omelet. Not one of the dozen combinations on the menu, but always something of his own creation, which drove Stace crazy but didn’t seem to bother Frank. She knew, from the lackadaisical way he ate his breakfast and the dozens of phone calls she’d overheard where Riley discussed the latest hot party or vacuous date, that his life was about as serious as confetti.
And on top of that, he seemed to think flirting was on the menu. He teased her, smiled at her, and had asked for her number once. Typical. Thinking every woman was just going to fall at his feet.
To her, perpetual flirt Riley McKenna was just another entitled bachelor in a city teeming with them. A man whom she suspected hadn’t seen a hard day of work in his life, and never appreciated the hard work of others.
“How are you, Frank?” Riley shot them both a grin, then slid onto one of the counter stools.
“Good, good,” Frank said. “And you?”
Riley’s smile faltered. “I’ve had better days.”
“Well, if it’ll make you feel any better, I’ve got apple pie on the menu today,” Frank said.
“Not today, thanks. Unless you’re giving out free samples. I’m, ah, currently between funds right now.”
“You?” Frank asked. “What, did you spend too much on a date last night?”
“Something like that.” Riley gave Frank the cocky grin he gave everyone. The grin that said he’d probably spent his night bedding yet another in a long string of blondes. Stace kept on working. And ignoring him.
Stace soaked a cloth in disinfectant cleaner then started wiping down the pale yellow laminate counter. There wasn’t much time before the lunch crowd began to filter in, and lots to do.
“I’ve been out looking for a job,” Riley said.
“I take it the job search hasn’t gone too well?”
Riley’s grin raised a little on one side. “I’m not qualified to do much.”
Frank
