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Chapter 1
Jazmyn Young and her best friend Tavia sat in a worn booth at Aunt Bea’s Diner, the best restaurant in Mallory, waiting on the five orders of food. The place was a mid-size mom-n-pop joint and Jazmyn was sure the cook was probably a sister to Moses, the biblical figure. Wilma was nice and always had a quick smile and something good to say, but she looked like an Egyptian mummy, wrinkled and bent as she went about running the grill better than those half her age.
Tavia came back and sat in the booth facing Jazmyn. “So, what do you think about our dear Jayda and her new catch, Drake? Is that not the weirdest coupling you can imagine?” Tavia rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Weird? I’d say that’s about right. I never thought for a second that Jayda would go for someone who is so obviously an alpha male type. I just don’t see Drake playing submissive for her at all.” Jazmyn turned to watch Wilma working the grill, fascinated by the ancient woman’s dexterity and speed with the spatulas, lids, seasonings, bottles, and all the other accessories of her trade. The woman seemed as if she had been born over a flat-top with spatulas in her hands.
Tavia giggled. “Wonder if Jayda will retire her dominatrix outfit and her whip now?”
Jazmyn, caught off guard by the comment, laughed aloud and clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “That’s the sixty-four-million-dollar question right there. I don’t see that happening, either. She likes being in control too much.”
“Drake doesn’t seem like the type that will share her, though. And we both know he won’t be submissive. That man would agree to be tied up about like I’d agree to be shot out of a cannon.” Tavia turned on her cell and began scrolling.
“Mm. Then I guess there’ll be trouble in paradise before long.” Jazmyn scanned the diner. Two retirement-age couples sat at tables on the other side of the dining area. A gum-chewing waitress, who might be seventeen or eighteen, idled up and down the bar, straightening the condiments and humming the tune to some forgettable country song.
Wilma flipped two burgers over and closer to the right side of the flat-top, added cheese to them, and slapped metal domes over them. The burger buns and sides were sitting in to-go containers on the counter by the stove. Jazmyn didn’t remember even seeing the woman put the sides in the containers.
“I think everything and everybody in this place is moving in slow motion except for Wilma. Damn, that woman is fast.” Jazmyn shook her head and checked the time again.
Anywhere else, she would expect to sit and wait for five orders of food for at least a half-hour. Not here, though. Not at Aunt Bea’s. She and Tavia had given the orders and had been waiting only eighteen minutes when Wilma rang the little bell to let Sandy, the waitress, know the food was finished.
Sandy strolled to the counter and plucked the ticket from the Styrofoam container on top. Holding it between her thumb and forefinger, chomping on that stupid wad of gum, she lazily poked at keys on the register.
“So, y’all had two cheeseburger meals, a chef salad with soup of the day, and two seared chicken breast meals—two sides and two rolls—and five large sweet teas. That sound right?” She eyed first Jazmyn and then Tavia with disinterest as she waggled the green ticket over the register, waiting for an answer.
Jazmyn suddenly wanted to smack that girl; she was the exact opposite of Wilma and stood in such stark contrast to the cook that it was annoying.
Forcing a tight smile, Jazmyn nodded. “Yep. That sounds right.”
Tavia nudged Jazmyn’s ankle with the toe of her shoe and grinned. Jazmyn rolled her eyes at Tavia and turned back to Sandy.
“All right, girls, looks like that’ll be forty-five dollars even. Unless you wanna add in a tip for me or Wilma, that is.” She grinned and tilted her head, batting her eyelashes at Jazmyn.
A sarcastic laugh escaped Jazmyn before she could stop it. “I’m sorry, Sandy, I just want to pay and go. Maybe next time, though.” She handed the girl two twenties and a ten.
Tavia interjected, “Yeah, next time when you do more than chew gum loudly at us. You really shouldn’t do that on your job, you know.” Tavia wasn’t being mean or rude. She informed Sandy of this in a nice, older sister kind of way and it always amazed Jazmyn how people took to Tavia’s insulting remarks.
Sandy’s eyes grew wide—the most reaction Jazmyn had seen out of the girl the whole time she’d been coming to Bea’s. “Well, Henry and Mae have never said anything to me about it.” She spat the gum into a small trashcan at her feet.
Tavia smiled. “Maybe they haven’t seen you doing that while you’re waiting on people.” Tavia scrunched up her face and shrugged.
“Is it really that bad noticeable?” Sandy pushed the drink holders and the to-go containers toward them.
Tavia nodded. “Yeah, it kinda is, Sandy. Anyway, you have a good day, now.” Tavia grabbed two containers and a set of drinks and then headed out the door.
Looking slightly wounded and slightly confused, Sandy looked to Jazmyn.
Jazmyn took a ten from her pocket and stepped to the door that separated the kitchen from the hallway. “Wilma? Here you go, girl. I love your food, woman. You keep us coming back here.”
Wilma stepped to the doorway and smiled at Jazmyn, taking the ten from her. “That’s what I’m here for—to keep customers coming back week after week.” She slid the bill into her pocket under her apron and smiled wider, a twinkle in her eyes. “I like you repeat offenders, Jazzy. I like your club, too.” She pointed at Jazmyn with one crooked finger and laughed as she went back to the stove.
Jazmyn, shocked, asked, “You came to the Hideaway?”
“Yup. Been there twice now. It’s bright, loud, chic, purty, and wow what a crowd of good-looking guys y’all get in there on the weekends.” She waved at Jazmyn and disappeared around the corner to the coolers.
Carefully maneuvering the stacked Styro boxes, Jazmyn placed them in the back floorboard of her car and then slid under the steering wheel, laughing at the idea of Wilma kicking up her heels at the Hideaway.
Tavia, still scrolling through her phone, asked, “What’s so funny? Share. I could use a laugh, too, you know.” She put the phone under her thigh and eyed Jazmyn as she drove out of the parking lot and onto the winding road that led to the Hideaway.
“Wilma said she really liked the Hideaway.” Jazmyn burst out laughing again.
“What? She’s been there?” Tavia asked in disbelief.
“Apparently she’s been there twice.” Jazmyn wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and tried to stop laughing.
“Wow! Now that I would never have guessed.”
Jazmyn shook her head. “Me neither.”
They arrived at the Hideaway and carried the food i
nside. Jayda, Madison, and Pepper were in the office lounge with the television on, the volume low, watching an old horror movie. They were all piled up on the seven-foot long sectional couch.
While they ate and watched the old movie, that was more comedy than horror in present time, Jayda kept checking her phone and texting someone. Jazmyn figured it was Drake.
“Your dragon texting you to keep up with your whereabouts and the company you’re keeping before opening hours?” Jazmyn couldn’t keep the hint of sarcasm from her voice. Of all her friends, she would have thought Jayda would be the last one to let a man keep a leash on her—even if it was just an electronic leash such as a cell phone.
