“Trust me. I’d love nothing more. You and your cooking in your new place?” He runs his palm down his face in frustration, and my heart feels the blow almost before it’s out of his mouth.
“But I can’t. I’m leaving to head back home to Sycamore Mountain on Saturday.”
Chapter 26
Ellie
“How’s the new place?” Jo asks.
I can’t help but jump at the intrusion into my thoughts.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, Ellie.”
“It’s okay.” I slide the cornbread into the oven and turn to face him. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind and didn’t hear you.”
“Come sit and have a cup of coffee with me. Will ya? It looks like you’ve got all of your regular menu items sorted for the lunch rush.”
I follow Jo over to the additional stool he keeps by the register. He’s got my cup of coffee from The Gingerbread Man waiting for me. “When did you have time to run and grab that?” Normally, he begins the day with a visit to the bakery on his way in.
“I wanted to slide by and see your Pops on the way in. Ms. Fletcher stopped by with a couple of cups for us.”
“Ms. Fletcher, huh?” I tease as I blow across the dark, steamy richness in my paper cup.
“She was repaying a favor. I let her fill her tank and pay me later when she ran short last week and was afraid she wouldn’t make it to pick up her grandkids from school.”
The door chimes, and a man, I’m sure is a tourist, walks in. He’s sporting a bright Tommy Bahama button-up and the look of surprise most wear once they’ve discovered the inside of Salty Jo’s doesn’t match the outside. The dichotomy of this part of town has never felt more evident than today. ‘The Have’s’ stop in and try not to get their hands dirty while ‘The Have Not’s’ find ways to help their neighbor in a jam. As if the universe wants to make the division even more clear, the doorbell rings once more as haughty Jennifer Jones Hamilton strolls in on four-inch heels and places her well-manicured hand on the forearm of ‘Tommy Bahama’ who walked in before her.
My gaze drops to my now chipped nails, and I sigh at the memory of having them painted at The Mistletoe Spa before my date. Matt hasn’t even left, and my heart hurts already.
“Hi. The credit card machine isn’t working on pump number nine. Do I need to move to another one, or can I get fifty dollars worth of premium?”
“Sorry about that. I’ll take care of it here,” Jo says, reaching for the man’s platinum American Express card. “That one’s been giving me a fit lately.”
“Thank you. Oh, and where’s your coffee?” The tall gentleman with the big shiny Movado on his arm asks Jo.
We both start to point in the direction of the coffee station when Jennifer interrupts. “Oh, you don’t want coffee from here, Nathan. I’ll take you somewhere for that.” She sneers in my direction as if I should be offended. It’s no skin off my nose.I don’t drink the coffee from here either, bitch.
The two of them walk away just before Jo places his hand on my arm. “So, what’s with the long face? I would’ve thought you’d be buzzing like a bee over moving into the new place.”
“Oh, I am. It’s just…” I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my emotions. Why am I letting this get to me? “Matt’s leaving on Saturday.”
A solemn look invades Jo’s previously rosy expression. He knows me so well. It’s rare I let anyone in.
“I’m kicking myself that I let my guard down. That I hoped someone might stay this time. Everyone I care about always leaves. One way or another. Why should he be any different?”
His warm hand gives mine a squeeze, and I look away to avoid letting him see me get emotional, just for my gaze to land on Jennifer’s smug face.
“Oh, please. Did you really think someone like Matthew Hightower would want trailer trash like you?”
My eyes fly around the convenience store, shocked she’d show her true colors in front of Mr. Richy Rich, when I notice him outside, fueling up his Range Rover.
“He might’ve decided to go slumming while he’s here. Desperate women probably go out of their way to give good head.” She scoffs. “But they’re only a diversion until guys like him go back to a real woman.”
The stool topples to the ground behind me in my haste to get to her. Jo squeezes his fist tightly around my arm, pulling me back behind him.
“Young lady. If you ever so much as set one toe back on my property, I’ll call the police and have you arrested for harassment.” Jo points to the sign hanging over the cigarettes behind him.
We have the right to refuse service to idiots.
