I don’t even have to think about it before answering. “I know just the place.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“A diner?” Spencer asks as we approach B&H Diner.
“I know, I know.” I laugh at his dubious expression, imagining his unspoken words: ‘We’re both full of tea and cakes’. “I initially thought we could wander around downtown, but I’m not wearing the right shoes for that. I’ve known the owners, Bea and Horatio, my whole life, so they won’t mind if we commandeer a booth and sit to talk for a bit. Plus I just live a few minutes away, so I can walk home.”
“Very well.” He opens the door and waves me in. I catch a whiff of his cologne again before my nostrils are filled with the familiar scent of fried food and coffee. This diner is like a second home to me; my parents used to bring me here when I was little and then the girls and I chose this as our preferred hangout spot once we were old enough to be out on our own. We still meet here at least once a week, although we usually need a bigger table these days to accommodate our expanding group.
I wave to Bea, who’s serving a table of three, then blow a kiss to her husband, who’s manning the kitchen in the back. With a wide grin, Horatio pretends to catch the kiss and tuck it into his shirt pocket before going back to work, his dark skin and bald head gleaming in the harsh overhead lights.
Spencer follows me wordlessly through the diner. A quick glance over my shoulder shows him glancing around, taking in the worn vinyl booths, chipped tabletops, and framed pictures on the walls. With his fancy clothes and posh accent, I get the sense he’s not used to places like this.
“Is this okay?” I ask when we reach a booth in the back corner. It’s where the girls and I usually sit when it’s just us.
“Yes, fine,” Spencer says absently, still looking around. He slides into the bench seat across from me and immediately begins unwinding his scarf. “What a delightful spot.”
It takes me a second to decipher if he’s being sarcastic. His open, curious expression makes me think he’s not. If I hadn’t already found him incredibly charming, this would seal the deal. “It is. It’s a bit shabby, but you can’t beat the food or service. Unlike some other diners that basically just heat frozen food, everything here is fresh. Horatio and his team make almost everything from scratch.”
“You talkin’ us up?” Bea asks, appearing at our table.
“Always.”
Bea and Horatio have to be in their sixties by now. This job must be grueling with its long hours, fast pace, and hours spent on their feet, but they love it. We’ve convinced them to hire more staff in the last few years, but they both insist on carrying on with their jobs as usual, even with the added help.
Bea doesn’t even attempt to hide her interest as her gaze sweeps over Spencer. “Your little group expanding again?”
I do a mental facepalm at her words. Maybe bringing Spencer here wasn’t a good idea after all. Bea has been overjoyed with each new addition to our foursome, and she’s rooting for Louisa and Fergus to get together as much as Evie, Stella, and I are.
“Bea, this is Spencer. We met today at the early birthday celebration the others had for me.”
“The tea party, right?” She’s still staring at Spencer and, to his credit, he looks calm under her scrutiny. He’s even smiling slightly. “You two hit it off and decided to extend your time together? That’s how Horatio and I started out, you know. We met for coffee, which turned into lunch, then dinner, then…well, then breakfast the next day.” Her gaze swings back to me, eyes sparkling with something like mischief. “We’ve been together every day since.”
“Oh, it’s not like that,” I say quickly. “Spencer and I aren’t…we’re not…can I get a cup of hot chocolate, please?”
Bea gives me a long, steady look. This could go one of two ways: she’ll let it go and quiz me about Spencer the next time she sees me, or she’ll keep prying. You never know with Bea. After a long pause that nearly has me squirming, she says, “Sure thing, sweetheart.” She scribbles on her pad before eyeing Spencer again. “And for you, handsome?”
When Spencer leans forward and asks, “Could I get a strawberry milkshake?” I nearly choke on my own saliva. Then he adds, “And that lemon pie in the case up front…might I get a slice to go?”
Bea’s lips twitch as she writes on her pad, ending with a flourish. “You got it, honey. I like a guy with a sweet tooth.” She points her pencil at me and adds, “You’ve chosen well with this one. She’s sweet as pie.”
I groan as Bea spins on her orthopedic shoes and struts toward the front counter. “Sorry about her.”
Spencer laughs under his breath. “No apologies necessary. In fact, I might have just found my new favorite eatery in Bellevue.”
“Oh god, you’ll only encourage her,” I say, my whole body warming as he laughs again. “So…a milkshake? And pie?”
He settles back in his seat, loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his dress shirt. It’sreallydifficult to keep my eyes on his, and yet somehow I manage.
“The milkshake was a whim,” he says. “I was going to be sensible and order tea until I remembered how my best mate and I loved watching American television when we were young. My parents were—are—the fine dining sort, so places like diners and casual cafés with huge, squashy armchairs and live music were foreign and wonderful to me. When I think of those diners, I think of burgers, fries, and milkshakes. I’m much too full for a meal, but I thought I could handle a milkshake.”
Well, that’s adorable. “And the pie?”
He lifts one shoulder, the tips of his ears turning the tiniest bit red. “I saw it on the counter when we arrived and couldn’t resist. Lemon was my granny’s favorite, and after talking about her and her sweet tooth earlier, it felt like a sign. I’ll have the pie tonight after dinner.”
Bea returns a moment later with our drinks. “Enjoy, you two.” She sends what I’m sure she thinks is a subtle wink in my direction, but the small smile on Spencer’s face tells me he saw it.
He swirls his straw around in the thick pink liquid before taking a drink. Or attempting to, anyway; the milkshake is too thick. He sucks and sucks and then lets out a breathless laugh. “Guess that’s why there’s also a spoon in the glass.” He removes the long-handled spoon and makes a little hum of contentment as he puts it in his mouth.
