Page 6 of Half Wolf Mate

“Can’t find good help or good boyfriends these days,” she grumbled.

The scene reminded me that I had left my waitressing job back in Nebraska. I hadn’t shown up at the café in three days, which meant I was so fired.

“What are you looking at?”

I blinked, realizing the woman was scowling at me. Of course, she was. I was just standing there, staring at her like an idiot. “Um…nothing. I mean, I’m heading inside.” I angled my chin to the building. The fancy writing on the window read:Dupart’s Diner.

Sharp brown eyes that seemed able to see through to my soul held me captive. The heat of my blush almost consumed my face. The woman probably wondered what sewer I’d just emerged from. I was tired and sweaty, and my clothes were wrinkled. My hair resembled a bird’s nest, and my eyes were bloodshot from having them wide open for over seventy hours, constantly looking over my shoulder for maniacal hunters.

I almost expected her to say, “Sorry, no bums allowed in this diner.” But she only gave me one more sweeping assessment and stepped aside for me to enter.

I gave her a sheepish smile and went in, self-consciously finger-combing my long, tangled hair. Sliding into a booth, I took in the diner. It was a quaint modern setup with individual booths and upholstered chairs lining the counter area. There weren’t many people inside at ten in the morning, which put me at ease. At least I could better keep my eyes on everyone.

There was another waitress, but it was Macy who came over to me. “Welcome to Dupart’s. What are you having?”

Nibbling my lower lip, I pulled my purse from my backpack and looked inside. There were only my IDs, a debit card for a bank account that was drier than the Sahara Desert, and two dollars. I pulled out the two dollars. “How much is a coffee?” Then I reconsidered. Should I blow the last couple of dollars I had on coffee? Not that it could do much else, but still…

“Better yet, do you have water…for free?” I gazed up at Macy, whose eyebrows elevated.

She glanced at my almost empty purse and sighed. “Order whatever you like, sweetheart. It’s on the house.”

At that, my stomach growled with anticipation. “Really?” Macy might as well have had wings. She was an angel.

“Sure.” She pointed to a menu at the center of the table.

Skimming over the menu, I ordered a coffee and a western omelet with pancakes.

***

I wasn’t sure how long I sat in the diner after I’d finished my meal. There was just a strange sense of peace in the restaurant. I was reluctant to give up the security to walk out the door and step back into a big city I knew nothing about and where I knew absolutely no one. I didn’t have enough money to find a cheap motel or buy my next meal. I was at an utter loss. Maybe running to New Orleans wasn’t a good idea after all.

“So, are you planning to sit in here all day?”

I looked at the counter where Macy stood, studying me.

She smiled. “Why don’t you come a little closer?”

Since she’d given me a free meal and had been super nice, I obliged. Sliding out of the booth, I took my backpack and went to the counter.

“Do you want something else to drink?” she asked when I sat.

“Oh, no. You’ve been kind enough. I’m fine.”

She tilted her head to one side. “You don’t look like the typical tourist.”

I smiled slightly. “No, I imagine they look less rumpled.”

Macy grinned back. “What’s your situation? Did you run away from home—from too strict parents, maybe? Or are you running scared from someone?” Her eyes narrowed. “You look pretty young. How old are you, seventeen? Eighteen?”

“Nineteen,” I said.

“Hmm. So, you’re running from a stalker ex-boyfriend?”

I laughed. “What makes you think I’m running from anyone?”

She gave me a once-over. “You have that look.”

I averted my gaze. “I’m not running from an ex, nor did I run away from home.”

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