Page 12 of Broken-Hearted

I’m not working alone today.

Last night, as we were cleaning up, O’Shane said a local woman helps him out every now and again, so she’s working the tables on the left, while I’m serving the tables on the right.

Megan, a blonde woman in her late thirties, is friendly. She is also tired-looking. With four kids under ten, every day must be exhausting.

Whenever I pass Nathan as I top-up coffee mugs and take breakfast orders from bleary-eyed tourists and truckers, he’s peering out of the window, or he’s studying me. An hour later, and he still hasn’t ordered anything to eat, though we both skipped breakfast, so he must be starving. He just occasionally sips from the coffee I poured for him.

After a large group of college students leave me with a ten-dollar tip, I walk over to O’Shane who’s standing at the front counter during a quiet moment.

“Can I order some food for my friend?”

O’Shane shoots Nathan a rapid glance. “Friend?”

“Uh, yeah.” Ignoring the fact he saw Nathan pin me to the wall feet from the diner, I plunge my hand into my apron andpull out a fist full of dollar bills, offering it to him. “He’s not the boyfriend that dumped me here. I can pay.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Nathan’s back stiffens as he angles his head my way.

Please don’t let him have overheard my lies about boyfriends that don’t exist.

Lying to O’Shane and getting away with it is one thing. Lying to Nathan is proving to be another thing entirely.

O’Shane shakes his head. “Keep your money. You’ve earned it.”

My boss returns to the kitchen, and I don’t understand why until I hear the sizzle of bacon hitting the griddle, and I figure my boss is doing me another big favor.

I get back to serving customers and topping up coffee.

“Clara!” O’Shane calls out as he puts an order on the front counter. “This one’s for your friend.”

Nathan’s gaze burns its way through my back as I pick up a large plate with a generous serving of eggs, pancakes, bacon, hash browns, and sausage. My stomach rumbles at those delicious scents as I carry it over to Nathan and set it down in front of him. “Here.”

Nathan frowns. “I didn’t order this.”

“You look like a stalker or a guy obsessed with all that sitting and staring. Eat something so cops don’t arrest you.” I nod at the basket on the table. “Silverware is in the basket.”

His smile is pleased. “You did this.”

I frown at him severely. “Don’t make it a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal.”

I’m walking away when Nathan catches my wrist and gently tugs me back. “It’s a big deal to me. Thanks.”

I’m weighing up my response when O’Shane calls out, “Take five minutes, Clara.”

He’s still leaning on the front counter.

“But I just started,” I say.

“It’s quiet. Megan has a handle on everything,” he says.

I look at Megan, wanting to be sure she’s okay with me taking a break so soon after I started my shift.

She flashes me a smile. “I’m good,” she assures me.

I’m starving, so I don’t complain too much, smiling gratefully at my boss as I slide into the leather booth opposite Nathan. “Okay. Thanks.”

Nathan releases my wrist and I blink in surprise when he gets to his feet.

“Where are you going?”

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