Page 3 of Fragile Heart

Again, his lips don’t move; he just glares. I take a few steps back from the table before I turn. I can still feel his eyes on my back, watching my every move.

I’m not sure what I thought he would be like if I ever met him, but I can definitely say I didn’t think he would be so cold. Hudson always seems so alive and friendly in the movies and interviews I’ve seen him in. But this Hudson. . . He seems annoyed and rude.

After I put his omelet order through to the kitchen, Holly slides up beside me. “So, what’s he like?”

It takes me a minute to register that she’s talking about Hudson. “Uh. I don’t know. He didn’t really say much. He likes eggs and coffee. That’s all I’ve got for now. He doesn’t seem like he’s in the best mood.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, poor baby. It must be so hard being a super-rich, super-hot celebrity.”

“Hey, we don’t know what he might have going on. Let’s not judge too quickly.”

“Ugh. You’re too nice for your own good.”

“I just think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’s just having a bad day.”

“Yeah yeah.” She waves me off as she walks to one of her new tables. I follow her lead and make my rounds to check on all my customers.

Before long, Hudson’s order is ready, so I grab the plate from the warming station and head to his table. I try to not stare at him, but as I’m walking toward him, I notice him looking out the window. There’s nothing exciting going on out there. Just the normal hustle and bustle of weekday town business. I find it unusual that he’s not on his phone or something. Usually, when people eat by themselves, they have their phone or at least a book. He’s got nothing. His hands are clasped together on the table in front of him, and he’s just staring outside.

I set his plate down. “Here you go. Is there anything else I can get for you?” My presence seems to break him out of his trance.

“No.”

He grabs his fork to cut his omelet. “Ok, well, I’ll come check in on you in a bit.” He doesn’t look up from his plate.

I turn and walk back to the counter where Mr. Stevens is just finishing his breakfast. “Everything good over here?” I ask. My eyes keep flicking to where Hudson is sitting.

“All good here, Ms. Quinn.” He turns to see what I’m looking at. He lowers his voice to say, “Are you interested in that young man?” I want to laugh at him calling Hudson a young man. I know that Hudson just turned thirty a few months ago. It was all over social media, and entertainment news sites posted the hottest pictures of him they could find. Thirty might not feel like ayoung mandesignation to me since he’s four years older than me, but I guess compared to Mr. Stevens. . .

“Mr. Stevens, he’s like the hottest celebrity right now. Little ol’ me has no business being interested in someone like that. I’m just trying to figure out why he’s not in a good mood.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Quinn. Any man would be lucky to have you,” he tells me. I give him a soft smile, like I would if my grandfather had said that to me. Holly hears his comment and stops beside me. “Yeah, it’s about time you got back on the dating scene.”

I laugh. “I don’t think there is much of a dating scene in Blue Mountain.”

“Honey, I’d be happy to take a Saturday night off and take you to a bigger city to find you a man. You just say the word.”

“Oh, jeez.”

“Come on. You can’t be a hermit forever.” She bumps her shoulder into mine.

“I’m not a hermit. I just enjoy my alone time.” I look to Mr. Stevens for help, but his eyes are filled with sympathy. I wish I could say I’m used to that look since that’s how everyone in this town looks at me, but it makes my stomach clench. Everyone here knows my story. I probably should have left after everything happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to. This place is my home.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hudson put his fork down on his empty plate. I look at my friends. “Gotta go.” I stop and print out Hudson’s check because my gut tells me he doesn’t want anything else and just wants to get out of here.

I quickly walk to his table. “All done?”

He nods. “Ok. No rush, but here’s your check when you’re ready.” I grab his empty plate and walk back to the counter. By the time I turn around to see if he’s left a card for me to swipe, he’s already gone.

I walk back to the table and grab the cash he left sitting on top of the check. I count it as I walk back to Holly, still chatting with Mr. Stevens.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. I can feel my eyebrows crinkling together as I re-count the cash to make sure I didn’t miscount. “Don’t tell me he left a crappy tip.” I look up at her, and my face must say it all. “No way. How much did he leave you?”

“Less than fifteen percent,” I respond quietly.

“What a dick,” she says, loud enough for all the patrons in the diner right now to hear.

“Holly!” I exclaim, looking around at all the tables and hoping they can sense my silent apology for my friend’s language. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. He has enough money to leave a good tip, and he didn’t. That makes him a dick.” I shrug and cash out his order in the register, pocketing the measly tip he left me.

“That boy looked troubled,” Mr. Stevens says. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, ladies, but I must be going to the library. A book I’ve been waiting on has just been released, and Janine is holding it for me.”

Holly must have given him his check while I dealt with Hudson because he finishes signing the paper as he stands. He slides it to me and winks. “Have a good day, ladies.”

I wave after him. “You too, Mr. Stevens.”

I grab his check and see he left me a one hundred percent tip. His meal only cost about $8, but it’s the thought that counts.

Holly looks over my shoulder at the receipt. “At least someone knows how to be a gentleman.”

---