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The laughter and conversation during the twenty-minute drive to the Sunnyside Up Café had Myla skinning and grinning. She could not remember the last time she laughed so heartily. Ali Siddiq and Dave Chappelle had nothing on Dante’s comedic wit.

The scent of freshly prepared breakfast, fresh fruit, freshly squeezed juice, and maple syrup could be smelled from the outside of the restaurant. Myla’s stomach growled. Normally, her breakfast consisted of a mug of coffee, bagels, and eggs. She had never been the type to go to a restaurant for breakfast, unless it was a meeting for work. Being here, right now, just felt right.

Absent mindedly, Myla reached for the door of the restaurant and stopped abruptly when Dante grabbed her by the wrist. She winced as Dante’s masculine vice-like grip threatened to break every bone in her wrist.

“Dante?”

“What are you doing?” Dante asked calmly with her wrist still in his hand.

Though his grip was strong, Myla did not detect any anger or malice in his brown eyes. She detected confusion.

“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m opening the door so we can eat,” Myla answered.

“No, ma’am. No matter what social media has people thinking, chivalry is not dead. You don’t open doors when you’re with me,” Dante stated as he released Myla’s wrist and opened the door for her to enter.

Myla went from scared to impressed. Sadly, men never opened doors for her because she didn’t require it. She never thought the act of being chivalrous was important until someone came along and made her think differently.

11

The full aroma from the Sunnyside Up Café slapped Myla in the face as soon as she entered the family-friendly breakfast restaurant. All around her, spoons scraped plates and lively conversations filled the establishment. Her mouth watered in a way that it never had before.

For the first time ever, she felt hunger pangs. Something about this environment had ramped up her appetite. As she and Dante stood at the sign that read, please wait to be seated, her stomach growled even louder.

“Damn, when is the last time you ate something? Stomach just over there hollering and crying,” Dante joked, then burst into laughter.

Myla slapped his arm and joined in with laughter. There was no need to deny the obvious; she needed food ASAP.

“I’m so hungry, I’m about to seat myself. Where is the damn hostess?”

“Here I am,” the hostess said as she speed-walked to the stand. She carried a tray of menus and wrapped silverware. Myla noticed that her face was as bright as her yellow uniform top, but her eyes were tired. Myla read her name tag, which read, Sunny. She wondered if Sunny was the owner of the Sunnyside Up Café or if her name was just a coincidence.

This poor woman is working herself to death, Myla thought.

“I’m so sorry for your wait. The New Year breakfast special had us busy since 6 a.m. Would you like bar seating, a table, or a booth?” she asked cheerfully even though she was dog tired.

“We’ll take a table for two,” Dante answered.

Sunny’s spine stiffened. She was so focused on the woman that she hadn’t noticed the man standing off to the side. Myla’s eyebrows dipped in confusion. She noticed how Sunny’s skin went from a perfect tan to white as a ghost.

“Are you ok, Sunny?” Myla asked.

“Y-ye…Y-ye…” Sunny stuttered before clearing her throat. “Yes, ma’am. We have a table for two near the kitchen. Right this way,” Sunny said while offering a stiff smile.

Myla could not believe how large and packed the restaurant was. The observation made her want the food even more.

“Here we are,” Sunny said as she placed two menus and two sets of wrapped silverware on the table. “Your waiter will be Chancellor. He’ll be over momentarily with a pitcher of water, and to get your food and drink orders,” Sunny said before speed-walking away.

“If it wasn’t so packed in here, I’d assume she was running from something,” Myla joked.

“She hauled ass, didn’t she?” Dante laughed.

“She did. I hope the waiter walks over here as fast as she walked away because I am starving.”

As if appearing out of thin air, the waiter arrived.

“Good morning, I’m Chancellor. I’ll be your server. What can I start you with?”

“I’ll have the seafood medley and grits with a peach lemonade,” Myla answered. For the second time, her growling stomach spoke up. Myla could’ve sworn that her stomach told him to hurry up.