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)
Well, I guessed that answered the question of whether I was staying. It would do for now, indeed.
Chapter Eleven
Denver
Was it possible to wear out a cheap phone by checking the messages again? As I parked at Honey’s Sunday night, I had a sneaking suspicion I was well on my way to finding out. Friday’s sex-fest had turned into a long, lazy sleep broken by Sean’s alarm reminding him about the time school ended for the teens. Because, of course, Captain Punctual had an alarm for that. He’d dashed off, but later that evening, he’d texted.
Today was fun. Sorry I didn’t get to stay for muffins. Do it again some time?
I hadn’t kept him waiting, but I had kept my reply brief. Sure thing.
Knowing Sean, he was dying for a specific date and time to put in his phone calendar and set up three reminders for, but that wasn’t how I rolled. I’d figured he’d show up at the dinner Saturday morning, but he hadn’t. And when I’d driven home, he’d been outside doing yard work with his friend Eric and the jock kid, John. Not the time to stop and work out details for another hookup.
Before falling into bed, I texted:
Take your shirt off next time you trim the hedges.
Ha. It’s barely April in Oregon. I might not freeze, but I’d be damn chilly.
I’d warm you up.
Sleep had claimed me, and when I’d woken, Sean had taken a page from my book.
Good
And now it was Sunday, and he was back on duty, and so was I. According to the handwritten schedule posted near the walk-in fridge, I was supposed to have Sunday and Monday nights off. In theory. Between trading shifts, covering for others, and dealing with high employee turnover outside of Tammy and me, I ended up working well over forty hours most weeks. Somewhere, my twenty-something self was cackling over me putting in this kind of work for relatively low reward. Not that we’d slacked off during the various rock tours I’d been a part of, but I sure as hell hadn’t been punching a clock.
“Manager was just in,” Tammy reported as I prepped my station to start my shift.
“Fuck.” Working overnights, we didn’t often have to deal with management. This was a good thing. The original Honey’s had been founded by Loretta and Lionel Honey in the early 1970s. However, the pair had died within weeks of each other a few years back, leaving their kids and grandkids bickering over the business.
“Watch your mouth, sugar.” Tammy came around the counter to pat my jaw. “And the visit wasn’t that bad.”
“Which one was it this time?” As part of the squabbling over what to do with the business, various relatives played the part of manager, usually whoever was down on their luck and between other employment.
“The grandson. Dean. The kid with big ears. He’s nice enough.” Tammy was rather fond of the rotating crew of third-generation Honeys, many of whom were my age with kids of their own.
“Pretty sure that kid is pushing forty.”
“Hush. You’re all babies to me.” Tammy bustled away to wipe the long countertop. “Anyway, he was mainly in to check on a late dairy delivery, but he mentioned that the older kids—”
“You mean his sixty-something mother and her siblings?” I had to laugh, but Tammy made a ruffled hen noise.
“Do you want the gossip or not?”
“Go ahead.” I made a little gesture with my hand. She’d tell me anyway, but I didn’t want to spoil her fun.
“Honey’s kids are yammering about selling again.”
“Running out of relatives to pass jobs on to?” I tried another joke, knowing how Tammy tended to fret over the diner’s future.
“Be nice.” She waved her dish towel at me. “And I’m serious here. What will we do if this place closes?”
“Who says it will close?” I stepped away from the grill to pat her slim shoulder. “Even if they sell, the new folks might keep the staff around.”
I didn’t tell her I’d likely move on before then. It wouldn’t help her worries any. But the stability of the business was one more reason why my stay in town was limited. And why I couldn’t go dwelling on messages or lack thereof from Sean. No matter how good sleeping next to him had felt, anything between us would be short-lived.
“Land, Denver. Land. Property values.” Tammy shook her head, making me feel every hour of the GED classes I’d managed a few years back. “This place is worth far more as developable land than this old building with a too-big parking lot. They could likely get six townhomes or more here. If the kids opt to fold, we’ll all be out on our ears.”
“I doubt it will come to that.” I pitched my voice low and soothing. “They threatened to sell six months ago, remember? And that went nowhere.”