Page 49 of The One I Hate
Charlie: I’m more of a french toast kinda gal, but thanks for the rec.
Emmett: Of course you are…
Charlie: Why do you say that?
Emmett: Never mind. Just go in. I promise you’ll be fine.
Easy for him to say. He’s not the one about to go meet the woman who you’re trying to take the place of after she’s fed a town for a few generations.
Though french toast does sound good. Like really good. Because I’m really freaking hungry.
I take a few deep breaths as I walk into the hustle and bustle of a Friday morning at Mona’s.
Holy shit, it’s packed.
Every booth and table is full. A few waitresses are zipping around, carrying more plates than I think is actually possible. Conversations are on top of each other, drowning out the faint music that’s playing in the background, and the smell of bacon, coffee, and maple syrup is overtaking my senses.
It’s perfect.
And at this moment it really hits me that this place is soon going to be mine.
“Charlie! Over here! I saved you a spot at the counter.”
It takes me a second to realize that someone is calling my name, not another guy named Charlie. When I look to the counter there’s an older woman standing in front of an empty stool, coffee pot in one hand and a smile on her face that immediately puts me at ease.
“You must be Mona,” I say as I take a seat.
“The one and only.”
I laugh as she pours me a cup of coffee. “How did you know it was me?”
“Emmett told me to look out for a redhead who looked nervous.”
“Sounds about right.” I feel the slight heat come over my cheeks in embarrassment. “I hope it’s okay I came in today.”
“I’m glad you did,” she says. “The breakfast rush is coming to a close. Let me get you some food, then maybe we can chat?”
“Perfect,” I say. “French toast and an orange juice?”
“Coming right up, sweetie.”
Mona walks back to the kitchen, and I let out a slight sigh of relief. I pick up the steaming cup of coffee, but when I bring it to my mouth, the smell suddenly makes my stomach twist. Weird. Who knows…my stomach has been hating me lately.
But it wants french toast immediately.
I take another look around the diner and now I’m wondering what I was scared about. Mona seems lovely. This place is exactly what I expected, and I can’t wait to make it my own, while also keeping the vibe Mona has created.
AKA no more yellow walls.
“I can do this,” I say to myself. “I really can do this.”
I reach for my phone so I can make a few notes and observations that I don’t want to forget when I see the door to the restaurant open out of the corner of my eye. I turn to look out of habit, and the second I do I hate myself for doing it.
I also forget to keep breathing.
Because walking in, in all his arrogant glory, is Simon Banks.
Breathe, Charlie…you knew this was going to happen. You knew this could happen today. This is fine. Get it over with. Then the next time won’t be so bad.
