Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. Susan Meier
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LENI LONG STARED out the big front window of the Family Diner in Mannington, Kansas, watching snow cover the sparkly gold Christmas bells hanging from the town’s eight streetlights. With the breakfast rush over and the red-and-white-themed diner empty, a hush had fallen over the tiny town.
A black SUV pulled into a parking space a few feet down from the diner. A tall man in a charcoal-gray overcoat exited. His broad shoulders hunched against the snow-laced wind, but there was a strength, a power to the movement. Maybe because of his size. He had to be over six feet and was built like someone who’d spent time in the military. Snow dotted dark hair that had been cut in a sleek, sexy way that sharpened the angles of his handsome face.
A thrill ran through her. Mannington didn’t have any men that gorgeous, that male, and he was heading toward the diner.
She raced behind the counter as his long strides ate up the sidewalk between his SUV and the door. It opened. He stepped inside, turning to close it behind him before he faced her.
His gaze cruised from her candy-cane-print blouse, red apron, short green skirt and red tights to her black patent leather buckle shoes.
Damn it! The first fabulous-looking man to come to Mannington in decades and she was wearing an elf suit.
Oh, well. That was life in a small town. Waitresses dressed like elves. The cook sat outside on the back steps smoking. And her mom, the second waitress for the breakfast shift that morning, hadn’t thought twice about calling to say she wouldn’t be in until after ten. This was one of those mornings she needed to stay with Leni’s dad, making sure he was okay because his head injury from a work accident was now causing small seizures.
Gorgeous Guy peered at the name tag on her blouse. “Leni?”
It wasn’t unusual for an out-of-town customer to read her name tag and call her Leni to be friendly, but something about the way he’d said it hit her funny. As if he were disappointed.
“Yes.” She smiled. “That’s my name.”
He ambled over to the counter. “You’re the only waitress here?”
She grabbed a nearby cloth and ran it along the worn white countertop. “Yes. The other waitress is coming in later.”
“How much later?”
That was a stupid question. Why would he care what time her mom came in? “She’ll be here any minute now.” She laughed. “But really, it’s fine. I can take your order.”
“Okay.” He sat on one of the round red stools at the counter. “I’ll have a cup of coffee.”
“Sure.” She turned to the pot sitting on a two-burner warmer behind her. “And you should know that it might be after ten, but the cook makes breakfast all day.”
“Sorry. I had breakfast.”
Drat. That was her only angle to keep him here. Now he’d drink his cup of coffee and race off—
She frowned. Unless he planned to wait for her mom?
Fears about insurance adjusters and private investigators sent by At Home Construction to spy on her dad raced through her. After two years, the company was arguing his workers’ comp and questioning medical bills because they believed he could perform light-duty tasks and come back on the job.
But if this guy wanted to catch her dad working around the house to prove he was no longer disabled, he wouldn’t come looking for her mother.
Would he?
No. He’d spy on her dad.
Feeling guilty for thinking the handsome stranger was a private detective, she swiped the cloth down the counter again. “Maybe you’d like a cinnamon roll?”
He laughed. “No. Thank you.”
His words were kind, but precise. Leni smiled. He didn’t need food and sometimes customers didn’t want to talk. She would leave to him to his coffee.
She turned to walk away, but he said, “Nice town you have here.”
She faced him again. “Mannington’s okay.”
His dark brows rose. “Only okay?”
Maybe