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“I don't buy it, Sophia,” he said finally.
“Buy what?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at him.
He looked up quickly and I saw his cheeks color slightly. Yeah, he certainly had been checking out my ass and got busted, which made my insides warm.
“That everything is fine,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to cover the fact that I'd just caught him staring at my backside. “I can tell when you're lying.”
With a sigh, I looked around and leaned forward on the counter – accidentally showing off my cleavage when I did so. Like the gentleman he was, Nico looked into my eyes – rather than at my chest – and I pitched my voice low, to be sure I wasn't overheard by anybody else.
“I'm swearing you to secrecy here, Nico,” I said. “I'm trusting you to keep this between the two of us.”
“You have my word, Sophia.”
And as I looked into his eyes, I knew I could trust him. I knew he wouldn't breathe a word of what I was about to tell him to another living soul without my say-so.
“Well, to be honest, I'm not sure how much longer the diner is going to be open ,” I said, biting my lip and keeping my voice low. “Next time you're passing through this way, it may be under new ownership. Or closed. Or turned into a McDonald's for all I know.”
“You're kidding me. Did you father sell the place?” Nico asked in a hushed voice.
Nico's dark eyes suddenly grew so very serious, a look of concern crossing his handsome features. His gaze filled with a compassion I wasn't expecting. After all, this was just a diner he stopped by once every couple of weeks. And if we closed up shop, I knew he could get his fix of morning grease and coffee anywhere else without a problem.
But he looked genuinely concerned, and as he looked at me, I couldn't help but stare into his eyes.
“Not exactly,” I said, straightening up, looking around again.
I knew I shouldn't be talking about our personal family business out in the open with just anyone – but Nico was always so nice and willing to listen. It was hard not to open up to him. And I knew I could trust him, that he wouldn't betray my confidence.
“More like we're losing it,” I said.
“Is that so?” he asked.
“Mmmhmm, sadly so,” I said, fighting back the emotion that welled up within me as I admitted it.
I didn't tell him why were on the verge of losing the diner. I didn't tell him about my father's gambling debt – that wasn't necessary and he didn't need to know that. Sunny Side Up Diner had been in my family for several generations. Growing up, it had always been my dream to own this little diner in the middle of the central valley. I used to think about all of the things I would do to put my own stamp on it – but also everything I'd leave exactly the same to honor the family tradition. I knew I could turn the diner into something bigger and better than it already was.
But that was apparently not to be. My dreams were going to remain just that – dreams. We were completely and utterly broke, and I honestly wasn't sure what would happen to any of us. Not that any of this was Nico's problem. I didn't want to bore him with our personal family struggles. Nor did I want to tell him that story – I feared that he might see me differently, or think of me as something lesser. And even though I might never see him again once we closed up shop, that was the last thing I wanted. I wanted to remember the way he looked at me, and the genuine kindness he'd always treated me with.
I left Nico to run back to the pass-through window to grab his food. We didn't serve up fancy dinner fare or anything, we specialized in just your basics, but we did that very well, and had for several generations. It was a fact the vast amount of people stopping in as they traveled between L.A and San Francisco regularly could testify to.
Eggs, bacon, toast, a side of pancakes, biscuits and gravy, all made from scratch with ingredients we got from the local farms. What made it special was that the meals we served up were made with recipes dating back to my great grandmother's day. She’d used ingredients and seasonings that weren't very common, and of course, the freshness couldn't be beat. That combination helped us serve up meals that really were mouth-watering.
Sunny Side Up was truly something special, and it had been for a long time. But soon enough, it would be gone.
Generations of hard, loving work flushed down the toilet because of my father. He had a sickness – an addiction he couldn't get under control. What made it even worse was the fact that he didn't ever seem to really try.
I left Nico alone to enjoy his food and spare him anymore of my sob story, but as I handed him his check, he grabbed my hand before I could pull it away. When most guys tried to pull that with me, they got a slap across the face. But I could tell that Nico wasn't trying to be forward or creepy – he was just trying to get me to look at him.
As I looked into his eyes, all I could think about was how damn handsome he was – even for a man twice my age. There was some graying around his temples, but it only added to his appeal, made him look even more distinguished and accomplished.
“When will your father be in?” he asked me.
“Oh, he's in the back, actually,” I said. “He's the one cooking today. Want me to grab him for you?”
“Yes, please,” Nico said, letting
go of my hand. “I'd love to have a word with him, if you don't mind.”
I had no idea what Nico would want to talk to my father about, I just hoped it wasn't about what I'd told him. My dad had hardly anything to do with the customers, and honestly, it was better that way. He stayed in the back, in front of the grill, where he was happiest. A surge of adrenaline shot through me when I poked my head into the kitchen and saw him standing there in front of the grill, listening to his talk radio, idly scraping the hot surface.
