Alone.
My hands fist, crushing the order I’d just torn off my pad, and I have to quickly flatten it out again so it’s legible for Billy.
“The Bunsen is here!” Sally crows from the booth she’s bussing, as if he’s some hero returned to his kingdom, deigning to grace us lowly peasants with his presence. At least that’s probably how he sees it.
“Good to see you, Mrs.Cornfield.”
“Psh. No need to be so proper. Call me Sally.”
I grit my teeth against the words that want to spill out of my throat. If I told Sally what happened in the parking garage—or how George has reacted to me before the emergency landing—the sweet woman would turn salty and erase The Bunsen from the chalkboard before the door smacked George on the ass on his way out.
But for some reason, I can’t bring myself to whine about how the guy wants nothing to do with me.
Maybe Darla is right. Maybe I do let my pride rule my decisions.
Whatever the case, Sally looks so happy greeting him. She’s already folding the pilot who rescued a waitress into the family lore of Cornfield’s. Other than her wife and two kids, there’s nothing Sally loves more than this diner. Her parents opened it when she was a toddler, and she grew up here.
My guess is that she probably had a love-hate relationship with the place, like a lot of kids do with their parents’ legacy, but in the end, love won out.
Which is one of the reasons she hates Jimmy Dorst, owner of Beefies Steak House. From what Mom said, Sally and Sam set out to hike the entire Appalachian Trail, an endeavor that can take over half a year. While they were gone, Sally’s dad’s health started deteriorating, but they kept it from their daughter, not wanting to ruin their trip. Jimmy, meanwhile, tried to bully the couple into selling the diner, attempting to take advantage.
Mom was working as a waitress one of the times he came by. Done with men who throw their weight around to intimidate people, she cursed him out and chucked eggs at his retreating car. Marge, who was a diner regular—because she loved flirting with my mom—and Sally’s friend, managed to get in touch with the hikers by sending a letter to one of their resupply stops.
Sally and Sam did cut short their hike, stopping in the middle of Pennsylvania to storm home and tell Jimmy off and take care of sweet Mr.Cornfield. The diner stayed in the family, and Sally still holds a grudge against the steakhouse owner all these decades later.
Not that I blame her. Karl Newton has been on my list since before I was born.
So I get why Sally loathes all things Beefies related. Which is why I will never tell her I’m about to start picking up shifts there.
It’s not like I’m passing along insider knowledge. I’m just earning as much extra cash as I can so I can pay Shawn back before I’m forty. And maybe earn his forgiveness by then, too.
I tried to find a job somewhere else. But all the other options in town I was qualified for weren’t hiring or paid way less than waitressing. There’re probably options in the city, but that means tolls and paid parking and gas for the commute. All the while, aHelp Wantedsign hung in Beefies’ front window, taunting me with the possibility of tips. Tips paid on a check for an expensive steak dinner. Plus, if my car craps out like it does regularly, I can manage the mile and a half walk to the restaurant and not miss a shift.
I’m a traitor. Ruled by money and willing to lie to the people I love so they don’t know how pathetic I am.
The least I can do is seal my lips about George being an asshole and let Sally have her joy. I don’t deserve her loyalty against George when I’m going behind her back at Beefies.
“Take whatever seat you’d like,” she says to the pilot. “I’ll send Beth over to help you.”
No, I want to groan. Instead, I try to look really busy brewing a fresh pot of coffee in the hopes she’ll send someone else.
“Beth,” my boss singsongs. “George is here.”
“Oh?” I manage to keep the flatness of anger out of my voice.
“Go say hi.”
I glance up and do a quick scan for him. “He’s sitting in Jocelyn’s section.” I name the other waitress on shift today.
Sally huffs. “She won’t mind if you give her one of your tables to even things out. She knows what he means to you.”
He means nothing to me, I want to growl back. But I’m not Darla,ready to burn down the world because of a pissy mood. So I smile and nod and grab the pot of coffee that finished brewing too damn fast.
George watches me as I approach his table, and I fight a scowl the whole way.
Damn him for coming here.
Damn him for looking so good when I’ve gone back to intensely disliking him.
