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My body wasn't meant to work overnight shifts. I was an early riser, had been my whole life. And it had always worked out well in the bakery business.
Now, though, I was up all night, and going to bed as the sun was high.
It wasn't natural for me. I was still struggling.
But overnight was the only shift that worked when you were being a full-time caretaker. It allowed me to be around for most of Shep's waking hours. I could take him to the doctor or physical therapy. I could make his meals.
This was just how it would have to be for a while.
"Did he come in tonight?" Shep asked.
"Who?" I asked, but it was useless. I'd jerked at the question. I'd straightened in my seat. He knew I knew exactly who he was asking about.
See, back when I'd first started the job, I used to prattle on and on about the customers to Shep in an attempt to keep him engaged and present when he would often slip into the dark recesses of his mind.
I told him about all my regulars, about their orders, about what we discussed when they would chat me up. Not in a creepy way, just in a lonely older guy kind of way. Because my regulars were all usually lonely older guys. Truckers coming through, widowers, the recently divorced with no idea what else to do with their time.
All of them except him.
I'd gone into an almost embarrassing amount of detail when I'd first described the giant of a man.
I'd never seen a person quite so big before. I mean, I was on the shorter side, so everyone seemed big to me, but this was different. He was a wall of a man. Tall, wide, muscular.
On top of that, he was stupidly good-looking with his black hair and cultivated beard, his dark, stormy eyes.
He wasn't much of a talker, but there was something strangely sweet about him.
I'd told Shep all of that.
So, naturally, as big brothers have been doing for a millennia, he picked on me about it whenever he found an opening to do so.
"Yeah," I said, since it was useless to lie to Shep. He was a human lie-detector. At least with me.
"And?"
"And nothing," I said as I pushed my food around on my plate.
You know that thing where you love ice cream until you work at an ice cream shop, then you can't stand it anymore? Well, when you worked at a diner that literally served just about every food possible, it made you a lot less enthusiastic about all the food when you left work. I swear I dropped eight pounds since starting a couple months before.
"Holly..."
"He asked me my name," I blurted out. I wouldn't stand five seconds in an interrogation room of any sort. Even if I was innocent.
"You wear a name tag."
"He asked me my real name," I clarified. "He somehow guessed I used a fake one at work."
"Did you tell him?"
"I, ah, yeah. I mean, I was on the spot," I said.
"Yeah, I'm sure that was it," Shep said, raising a dubious brow.
"It was," I insisted, but felt my ears getting warm. My damn ears were traitors when I was being anything less than completely truthful.
"Admit you have the hots for him."
"He's good-looking."
"Holl."
"I don't even know him!"
"You see him every week."
"And serve him coffee and food while he waits for his cousins to finish with karaoke, so he can give them a safe ride home!"
"But you don't know him at all, huh?" Shep asked, smirking.
I mean, we'd shared some light conversation over the past few months. But if I didn't take his credit card for his bill, I wouldn't have even known his name.
Malcolm.
All I really knew about him was he was a good cousin who cared about the safety of his loved ones, he was a bit of a people-watcher, he drove a massive truck, and he tipped really, really well. Like double or triple his bill well. Even when I was totally giving him subpar service because the diner was packed, and the owner refused to have more than one server on.
"So," I said, changing the subject. "Is Glen still coming over tomorrow night?" I asked.
I knew Shep was insecure about having his friend and business partner come by. Glen had stopped by the hospital after the accident, but Shep had asked me to keep him updated—but away—after that.
I knew it bothered Shep to have anyone see him as less than capable. Especially his childhood buddy, and someone he started a career path with.
It was a big step that he'd been open to the idea of a dinner when Glen reached out to me about it. So on my day off, I was going to be playing hostess, and trying to make it as enjoyable as possible for my brother.
