“That’s a long time.”
“I’ll be fine. There are a couple of things that still need to be done in here.” I glance around. “The new delivery needs to be set out, and I need to check the stock. Better to get it done tonight. Who knows if Gill’s going to make it in tomorrow.”
Gill’s one of the best waitresses we’ve had, but she’s always calling in sick or rushing off for some family emergency. We’ve kept her on because she’s good at her job and has been here so long she’s practically family. But her unreliability makes planning difficult.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Mom wraps an arm around me and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Same here, Mom.”
She chuckles. “I beg to differ. I just wish I were healthier. I could do more, and we wouldn’t have to worry so much.”
“It’s okay. We’ll manage. We’remanaging.”
“Thanks to you.”
A knock on the door cuts into my next words. We both look at each other. It’s the staff-only door, and we’re used to staff coming in and out, but never anyone knocking.
“I’ll get it,” I offer, padding over to open the door.
I thought it might be a customer with a question, but when the door swings open and I find myself face-to-face with Chad—my ex—my heart stops dead in my chest.
Chapter Twelve
Isla
Bright green eyes.
Unruly brown hair.
A straight nose and an angular face marked by the faint scar on his jaw. A scar he got when he fell out of a tree chasing me when we were twelve.
Chad.
He’s really here.
He stares back at me with an uncertain smile on that familiar face. He’s waiting for me to say something, but I’m still trying to make sure he’s real.
My gaze drifts over his lean frame clad in a long-sleeved T-shirt and black grungy jeans—classic Chad.
“Isla,” he says, and there’s no mistaking it. He’s really here.
“Chad…” I finally find my voice. “Um…hi. Hey, there.”
His brows lift slightly, like he was expecting a better welcome.
Mom joins me, and I’m glad for her presence. Because I feel like I might just wither away.
“Mrs. M,” Chad says with a smile that grows wider. “I’m so sorry to hear what happened to John.”
Mom places a hand to her heart. “Thank you, dear. He was so fond of you.”
“I know. Losing him was such a tragedy,” Chad replies softly.
“Come here, sweetie. It’s good to see you.” Mom opens her arms and pulls him into a hug, offering a far warmer welcome than the one I managed.
They pull apart, but she keeps her hands on his arms. “How long are you in town?”
“I’m back,” he says, then glances at me.
