Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I wasn’t, but it was nice of her to pretend. “Nah, I just don’t want to have to cover all by my lonesome.”
“What? Raking in all the tips for your handsome self?” She laughed lightly as I secured my hair and beard nets and headed to my grill station. During the day, Honey’s operated two grill stations, both ringed by countertop stools. Overnight, though, we only needed the one. We also likely wouldn’t need the mountain of silverware Tammy had rolled. “You’d love it.”
“Ha.” I shook my head because while the kitchen got a percentage of the tips, I was only too happy for Tammy to get the biggest share, as it was her hustle that earned the dollars. “It’s you they come to see, Tammy.”
“True.” Arching her neck, she gave a regal nod before moving the silverware to a bus tub and grabbing a rag for the already-shining countertop. “And here’s to hoping for a good night. Might be the last truly cold one for a while, but we’ll have to see if the cold keeps the young folks from Saturday-night fun.”
“As long as they treat you right.” Our regulars—truckers, first responders, shift workers—were usually decent folks and good about tipping. However, the rowdy, semi-drunken weekend party crowd could be a mixed bag of big checks and bigger headaches.
“See? You’re a sweet one. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re a good one.”
“What?” I whirled around from the grill I’d been prepping. I wasn’t aware that I had a reputation in town—good, bad, or otherwise. I generally flew under the radar and preferred it that way. “What does—”
“Howdy, gals.” Tammy waved as two women in nursing scrubs came through the front doors. “Pick a booth.”
The next few hours were steady. Not crazy busy, but enough to keep us moving. At least Tammy was happy with all the fresh faces to chat with, her earlier somber mood giving way to her trademark cheer.
“Ah. Here comes the eye candy,” she crowed as the door opened on a gust of cold air to admit a crew of firefighters in uniform. I spied their engine in the parking lot as I took stock of the crew. Not that I was looking for Sean. First, the dude had finished a shift earlier that day and was unlikely to be on again so soon. Second, and more importantly, I was not eager to see those twinkling blue eyes again. I had zero clue what I’d say, a feeling I didn’t much care for. I should have been relieved, but I couldn’t stop the slump of my shoulders as the Sean-less crew filed in to take seats around the counter.
“How goes it for my favorite crew?” Tammy asked as she handed out menus.
“You say that to all the boys, Tammy.” Luther, an older firefighter with a bit of a belly and fading hairline loved to flirt back with Tammy. He was a predictable chili omelet, extra hash browns customer who was usually good for a laugh or two. However, his coworker, a younger woman seated next to him, gave him a withering look.
“Ahem.”
“Sorry, Suzy.” Luther offered an appropriately apologetic smile. “All the crews? Crew members? All of us?”
“I can’t wait for Rodriguez to make it back so I’m not the only mom on the crew trying to keep you doofuses in line.” Suzy gave a long-suffering sigh as I pulled out the egg substitute for the veggie lover’s special she never deviated from.
“Aw, Suz. You know we love you,” the firefighter on Suzy’s other side piped up. He was a skinny dude who always ordered the lumberjack breakfast, extra crispy bacon, jam not syrup for the pancakes. “And Murphy—Sean, not the chief—is fitting in great. Doesn’t quite have Rodriguez’s takeout ordering skills down yet, but he’s a good dude.”
“He is. But don’t count on him sticking around.” Suzy gave an arch look, tossing her brown ponytail over one shoulder.
“How do you figure?” Luther frowned. Trying not to follow suit, I busied myself with the orders.
“Even if there’s a position open once Evelyn comes back, Sean’s used to being captain. He’s not going to be happy on the line long-term.” Suzy was known for being opinionated, but in this case, she was wrong. Sean had been plenty happy accepting orders in my shower. And I needed to stop thinking about Sean, orders, and showers while cooking.
“Maybe he puts in for chief,” Luther suggested. Apparently, the universe wasn’t done making me think about Sean because now the question of whether he was in town for the long haul kept poking at my brain.
“Nepotism much?” Suzy rolled her eyes. “Nah. Sean likes the field too much to be behind a desk full-time, but he needs to be captain somewhere.”
“Like you.” The firefighter on her other side piped up, and from the way Suzy bristled, he’d hit a nerve.