and gave Lucy Dee Diller, the owner of the diner, a peck on the cheek. The aromatic scent of incense and coffee beans wafted over him. Her raspy voice had deepened, making her southern accent even more apparent. He wondered if she still smoked unfiltered cigarettes, and hoped she didn’t.
Moments later, Jasmine was back, plate in hand. When he saw what was on it, he wanted to kiss her.
“Is that what I think it is?”
Lucy took the plate from Jasmine and slid it in front of him. “My famous jerk chicken sandwich with apple chutney and hand-sliced sweet potato fries.”
Jasmine winked. “How do you like me now?”
“Like? I think I’m in love.” He grinned at the two women, and then pointed at the food. “With all three of you.”
Lucy laughed. “Didn’t I tell you, Jasmine? Just like a Langston. You’re all flirts, though your brother not so much because he’s married.”
Steam curled up from his fries. He could barely wait to dig in.
“After all these years, I’m surprised you still recognize me.”
Lucy nodded. “Of course, I do! And not just because you’ve been on television.”
“You’re on television?” Jasmine asked.
Her voice held a note of disbelief that threatened to irk his ego. Micah shrugged, as if it was no big deal, even though to him, it was. He considered being on TV one of his greatest accomplishments.
She lifted the pass-through, and Lucy joined her behind the bar.
“Don’t you know, honey? Micah is famous.”
“Ever hear of High Stakes Chef?” he asked. “That’s the name of the show.”
Jasmine shook her head defiantly. “I don’t watch television.”
Lucy cut in, nudging the plate closer. “I remember your appetite and I don’t like to see any man starve, famous or not. I made that sandwich just how you like it.”
“With extra pepper sauce?”
At Lucy’s nod, he picked up the sandwich and opened his mouth to take a bite.
“Uh-uh. Not yet. Napkin in the collar, please,” Lucy scolded, unfolding one and doing the honors. “You know the drill. I’m not paying for your laundry.”
When she was done, Micah grinned and fought to roll his eyes as he smoothed the napkin over his clean white button-down shirt. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, but apparently Jasmine thought he looked like one, and Lucy thought he ate like one.
“Now, you eat,” Lucy said.
He took a bite. “Mmm...this is as delicious and—” he paused to swallow and wipe some sauce from his lips “—as messy as I remember.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t order it that way,” Lucy said.
“I’ve been a little distracted ever since I walked in,” he replied, temporarily forgetting his hunger for food.
He looked up and caught Jasmine watching him, a little smile on her lips, as she poured a draft beer.
Lucy glanced between the two and narrowed her eyes. Known around town for having psychic abilities, Micah wondered if she saw the spark between him and Jasmine, or if it was just his imagination.
“Don’t you go taking up my granddaughter’s time,” she warned. She tossed her head to the side and flattened one hand on the bar. “She has other customers and besides, she belongs to me.”
Her voice, though kind, seemed overly protective. What did the woman think he was going to do? Kidnap the girl?
Micah lifted both hands up, hoping to quell Lucy’s fears.
“Hold up. You have a granddaughter?”
He didn’t even know Lucy had children. On the other hand, he wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t the type to delve into someone’s personal life or even listen to the gossip that ran rampant in the small town.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” She beamed a megawatt grin, followed by a dismayed frown. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Just eat.”
Between mouthfuls, he said, “You’re both beautiful. Must run in your family.”
Jasmine wiped her hands and leaned against the back of the bar. “I didn’t want to believe you, but you’re right, Gram. He’s just like a Langston. A total flirt.”
He put his sandwich down. “Takes one to know one,” he teased good-naturedly, unable to help himself.
“Come on, you two. Break it up,” Lucy said, waving her hands like a referee.
His eyes caught Jasmine’s again, and he shrugged in spite of the flame of interest he saw there. It was time to change the subject before he got into trouble.
“How long have you owned the diner, Lucy?”
“Over fifty years. I moved to Bay Point when I was twenty-two years old.”
“That’s the same age I was when I opened up my first restaurant,” he exclaimed, surprised he had something in common with the feisty woman. “Now I have three.”
Jasmine whistled. “Three restaurants!”
“It’s not easy, but somehow I make it work.”
“One is enough for me,” Lucy said. “I’m so blessed that Jasmine moved here to help out.”
“Oh? How long have you been in Bay Point?”
“Only a few months.”
“She’s been a godsend,” Lucy said, looking over her shoulder as she rang up a customer. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”
“It’s been about two years since I’ve been back in Bay Point,” Micah said, trying a more direct track to get the information he needed. He’d almost forgotten why he’d stopped there in the first place.
Although the restaurant appeared to be doing well, he knew that keeping it that way was tough. If he did choose to open up his own across the street, Lucy’s customers would have a choice. He was confident that most would choose to spend their hard earned dollars at Society Red.
“Things sure have changed. There are lots of new restaurants in town. Have they affected your business? Have you lost any customers?”
Jasmine cut in, her tone sharp. “That’s none of your—”
Lucy turned and laid a hand on her granddaughter’s arm. “Mind your manners.”
“I mean. We’re doing fine,” Jasmine amended, folding her arms.
Micah wiped his mouth with his napkin, hiding his
