What he’d done was starting to sink in. Even though he had overpaid for the diner, he didn’t have any regrets. He couldn’t wait to implement some of his plans, and he was excited about his most ambitious one: the café. Almost all of the diner’s younger customers had at one time or another asked for a greater variety of desserts and for a specialty coffee now and then. George had ignored those requests, saying the diner had always served the same dessert and coffee and no one had complained before. “All these young folks want the fancy stuff,” he’d grumble as he’d throw yet another written suggestion for espresso into the trash. “We ain’t a fancy diner.”
Tanner didn’t want to turn Sunshine into a fancy diner, either, but they could at least add some twenty-first-century flavor to counterbalance the fifties vibe. The café was still an idea floating in his head, but tonight after work he would flesh out his plans on paper. After doing some more calculations, he figured that as long as he carefully watched what he spent over the next six to eight months, he would have a few thousand to work with in addition to what the diner was already pulling in. Once Sunshine was legally his, he would start ordering the equipment he needed, along with the renovation supplies.
The door opened and Pamela rushed in. “I know, I’m late,” she said, hurrying over to the time clock. She quickly punched her card. “I took a nap this afternoon and slept through my alarm.”
He hadn’t realized what time it was.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay late tonight.” She grabbed her apron and dashed out the door.
He slipped on his own apron, then grabbed one of the hairnets from the box on top of the time clock. Packages of them were all over the place in case someone forgot to put one on. He was putting it over his head as he passed by Fred and Bailey, who were on their way to clock out.
“Sorry I’m late,” he apologized.
“Not a big deal. We’ve been slow as molasses,” Fred said, slipping off his hairnet.
“Yeah,” Bailey added. “I reorganized the silverware.”
“Wow,” he said. “You must have been desperate.”
“I can’t stand being bored.”
Tanner told them goodbye, then walked into the kitchen. Pamela was stacking the clean dishes Kevin had taken out of the dishwasher. He watched as they worked, then turned to look at the empty dining room. He smiled. Even though he hadn’t officially purchased the diner, he felt like he already owned Sunshine—and he was determined to make it the iconic success it had been in its heyday. Soon enough, it would be time to tell everyone.
Chapter6
“You’re buying #3?” Olivia gasped.
“Shh.” Anita held a finger over her lips, even though they were alone in the library’s break room. “No one knows yet except for Harper, and I’ve sworn her to secrecy.”
Olivia crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “You told her first?”
Were Olivia’s feelings hurt? That wasn’t like her. “I had to. She’s the real estate agent brokering the deal for me.”
Olivia’s expression relaxed. “Oh. That makes sense, then.” She stuck a short celery stick into the small cup of homemade hummus on the table in front of her. Posters about books and reading hung all over the walls of the small, tidy room, along with employee information. As often as they could, the two of them shared lunch together here or grabbed a quick cup of coffee when Anita was off work and Olivia had time for a break. Lately they hadn’t gotten together much since Olivia was busy with work and school. Anita was glad she’d had time to meet today.
“But how in the world are you able to afford to buy #3 on a waitress’s salary?” Olivia asked.
“I have savings, and I plan to get a loan too.”
“You’ve saved up that much money?”
“Yes.”
Olivia smiled. “I’m impressed. How did you accomplish that?”
Anita started ticking off her fingers. “My rent isn’t that much, and I don’t have any bills other than that and utilities. I buy only what I need, and I walk almost everywhere. I bought my car thirdhand, and I’ve saved a lot on gas and insurance because I rarely drive.”
“Good thing, because I’m not sure that bucket of bolts is safe.”
“Rusty said it was.” At least it used to be, up until the other day.
“When did he say that?”
“Um, four years ago?” Or was it five?
Olivia smirked. “This is why one of us always offers to drive.”
Anita chuckled as she picked at the crust of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she’d slapped together before coming over here. She usually loved PB&J, mostly for the convenience. No cooking involved, and no matter the type of peanut butter or flavor of jelly, a person couldn’t go wrong with the childhood favorite. But after her gorge-fest of brownies yesterday, her appetite was sparse.
