“You’re still pretty introverted.” Olivia crossed her short legs and looked directly at Riley. “Then again, so am I.”
“Me too,” Anita interjected.
“Except when you’re at work,” Harper pointed out. “That’s when you unleash your inner extrovert.”
Anita frowned. “Is that wrong?”
Harper chuckled. “Of course not. The customers love it. Everyone knows you’re the best waitress at Sunshine. Andas for me, I don’t have an introverted molecule in my body, and I like it that way.”
They spent the rest of the evening talking about the wedding, interspersed with reluctant discussion about choosing their group name. At nine o’clock—always at nine, the time Olivia had established when they first started their weekly meetings—they cleaned up the snacks and left the shop.
“Do you need a ride, Anita?” Olivia asked as they walked into the parking lot.
“Not tonight.” She had a car, but she rarely used it. One of the perks of living in a small town was that everything she needed was within walking distance of her house—her waitressing job at Sunshine Diner, the church, and the grocery store, among other places.
As her friends got into their cars to go home, she waved goodbye to them. When they’d gone, she turned and headed around the corner to the storefronts on Main Street, the opposite direction of her house. The rubber soles of her gray slip-on tennis shoes were nearly soundless as she walked along the sidewalk past Knots and Tangles and two more empty buildings, then stopped in front of the third one, next door to the diner. When she was growing up, it had been called the Trimble Building, but now everyone referred to it as empty building #3, or just #3. A crookedFor Salesign sat in one of the large picture windows.
Streetlamps lit up the dark street, but she didn’t need light to know every outer detail of #3, from the picture windows on each side of the dark wooden door to the splintered wooden façade that was in desperate need of repair and fresh paint. During her childhood, an antique store hadlived here, run by the Trimble family, who no longer lived in Maple Falls. They’d sold the building to a bank, but during her freshman year of high school the bank had moved to another location outside of Maple Falls. Since then #3 had been empty.
She pulled her lightweight blue jacket close to ward off the spring chill. This wasn’t the first time she’d stopped in this spot and contemplated her future. Once Riley and Hayden had begun their campaign last year to revitalize the town, Anita had started paying more attention to her surroundings. This old building wasn’t the only thing going downhill in Maple Falls.
But what if...
Six months ago she had come up with a crazy idea: opening a café in #3. Not only would it be a great addition to the downtown, but it was also right next door to her current workplace. People wanting a quick cup of coffee and a snack could go to the café, and for meals they could go to the diner. The two could promote each other and maybe work together as one in the future—although it would be a challenge to get George, Sunshine’s owner and her boss, on board.
But she always talked herself out of the idea, and tonight was no exception. She didn’t have the brains or skills to run a business. She wouldn’t even know where to start.
Then again, Riley had been a reluctant business owner too. Yet once she renovated Knots and Tangles, she had grown to love running it. The yarn shop was popular, and people from all over the state came to buy her products. She also sold yarn online to customers all over the world.
Could a café possibly be the next hot spot in Maple Falls?
Yes, if someone else opened one.
She touched the cold concrete, then turned to go home, dashing her own hopes once again.
A few feet from #3, however, she stopped. Looked in the direction of the diner. Saw the glow of the lights from the large window facing the street.
Is he still there?
Unable to stop herself, she walked the short distance to the diner, pausing at the edge of the window to peek inside. The place closed at eight, and usually the staff had clocked out and left by eight thirty. But through the wide serving window she could see Tanner, the assistant manager and Sunshine’s main cook, still working in the kitchen. His head was down, and he wore his usual green baseball cap, a beat-up thing just sturdy enough for him to tuck his shoulder-length ponytail underneath.
Sigh.
Suddenly Tanner lifted his head, paused as he saw her, and waved.
Darn it.He’d caught her. When he gestured for her to come inside the diner, she couldn’t refuse, not without him getting suspicious.
Act natural.She waved back and went to the front door, ignoring theClosedsign prominently displayed above a smaller sign showing the days and times the diner was open. She pushed against the heavy glass door and walked inside, immediately hit with the enticing smells of cumin, peppers, and cilantro mingled with the usual fried-diner-food smell. Sunshine Diner had a fifties décor, right downto the barstools and jukebox—a jukebox that hadn’t worked in over a decade.
“Hey, Tanner,” she said, walking toward the front counter.
“Am I glad to see you.” He walked out of the kitchen. “I need a taste tester.”
Not only was Tanner the best cook Sunshine had ever had, but two months ago he’d somehow convinced George to open a catering business with Tanner in charge and Bailey, one of the new waitresses, assisting him. Anita knew he spent several nights a week after work tinkering with his catering menu. Sunshine Catering had booked only two small parties so far, but he worked so hard and was so good at his job she knew he would soon be adding to his client list. Just like she knew whatever he was cooking right now would undoubtedly be delicious.
Still, she hesitated. She couldn’t deny that she felt nervous around Tanner. Shortly after that kiss they’d shared way back in high school, he’d stopped tutoring her to take a busboy job at a restaurant in Malvern, and she’d rarely seen him outside the scattershot times he attended Amazing Grace Church. Absence hadn’t made the heart grow fonder, and she’d gotten over her crush on him. In the years that had passed since then, she’d moved on.
Or so she thought.
