Page 24

“Yep,” I say with a chipper smile.

She forces a tight smile onto her pretty face, her bleach-blonde hair swaying as she tips her head to the side.

“How fun,” she says. “What can we get you?”

I glance at the menu posted on the wall behind her. It’s a giant chalkboard and the menu is handwritten with chalk. “I’ll have the club sandwich and a Diet Coke.”

She writes my order on a note, then stops and meets my gaze. “Is Diet Pepsi okay?”

No, it’s not okay. Pepsi is no substitute for Coke. I run my tongue along my front teeth to control my facial expression. “Sure.”

She continues writing, then tells me my total and I pull my card out of my handbag.

Eyeing the card in disdain, she says, “there’s a two-dollar charge for credit. Do you have cash or check?”

Check? Who uses checks?

“Umm, no. The extra charge is fine.”

Her eyes drip down to my Burberry handbag that matches my luggage, and she purses her lips.

Lovely. I hope she and Lincoln get married and live happily ever after in their disdain of those who appreciate the finer things in life. Little do they know I received all my luggage free from Burberry.

After I pay, I sit at an empty table, the one near the young woman working on her laptop.

The wooden chair—it looks like an antique—creaks when I sit, but it’s comfortable. I reach for my phone in my purse, only to sigh when I only have one bar and no 5G or LTE service.

“The Wi-Fi password is Porcupine.”

My head swivels toward the feminine voice. The woman at the next table, probably mid-twenties like me, smiles. She has a thick braid of dark hair draped over her shoulder and a smattering of freckles along her nose and forehead like she spends a lot of time outdoors. Her eyes are dark like her hair, and she’s wearing a white, long-sleeved thermal beneath a brown corduroy jacket.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile of my own. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The woman nods, closing her laptop. “Are you new in town?”

“Yeah, I’m just here for a little while. Honey Badger Creek is really cute.”

The blonde walks across the restaurant with a tray in her hands. She shoots a fake smile at the dark-haired woman. “Here’s your order, Poppy.”

She sets down a bowl of soup and a plate holding a slice of crusty bread, then takes off again.

“Thanks, Lanie,” the woman—Poppy—says back, even though the woman is already several yards away.

“So, she doesn’t like you either, huh?” I ask, keeping my voice low. I’m feeling a pinch of relief that it’s not just me. She’s dressed simply; no designer labels. So that must not be the blonde’s problem, after all.

Poppy wrinkles her nose. “Lanie’s only interested in people who have a penis attached to them.”

I squeak out a shocked laugh at her statement, choking on my saliva and coughing several times. “I like you, Poppy.”

Poppy bows her head with a cocky grin. “What’s your name?”

I grin and stand up, moving over to her table and sitting down before reaching my hand across the table. “I’m Hattie. May I join you?”

“Absolutely.” She laughs, then her eyes move to my purse that’s resting on the table. “Oh wow, I love your bag.”

I relax into my seat. Finally, someone who’s not judging me for having a good sense of fashion. “Thank you.”

“Are you in town for vacation or something?” Poppy asks, dipping her spoon into her soup and giving it a stir.