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“Take a seat.” Jake gestured to one of the cushioned green vinyl chairs across from him. “And let’s get to it.”
CHAPTER NINE
WHATEVER UNIVERSAL POWERS were responsible for the Butterfly Diner’s flood of customers, they sure had a twisted sense of timing.
Twyla’s dentist appointment had culminated in a root canal, leaving Holly all but pirouetting her way around the tables with little time to breathe, let alone think. It wasn’t until an hour later she realized most of the customers were onetime regulars who hadn’t stepped foot in the diner in weeks.
She had Luke Saxon to thank for something after all, at least according to the whispers and looks she received. For once, rumors—or the town’s desire for them—were paying off with order after order and the continuous ringing of her cash register. Whether it was Luke, gossip or just plain luck, Holly was grateful.
It didn’t help her concentration that thoughts of Luke were distracting her completely. She’d nursed a twelve-year grudge when it came to the new sheriff, but try as she might, that built-up resentment had abated with unexpected sights of him boarding up windows on abandoned buildings and town rumblings of his one-man after-the-storm cleanup crew. Tales of Luke and his chain saw were overriding the old bad-boy legends. She could only imagine what those same residents would have said a decade ago if they’d seen teenage Luke wandering town hacking up trees and putting various power tools to use. Either way, in mere days, Luke had already left another indelible impression on Butterfly Harbor.
It didn’t help he’d looked incredibly handsome hefting plywood into his truck earlier today. Holly squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late to stop the image of the quirky grin on his full lips, the restrained twinkle in glittering eyes. His unexpected calm and controlled demeanor had kicked a giant hole in her belief as to who she thought he was: untrustworthy, unreliable and straight-up trouble.
Right now, the only quality she’d wager big bucks on was trouble.
As she balanced two burgers, a club sandwich and a piping hot French dip on her already singed forearms, Holly glanced over to make sure Simon was still nose-deep in the thickest of his most recent book acquisitions. At least something was going her way. Her son had been scribbling notes faster than she could ever hope to from the second they’d returned to the diner from the bookstore. Someday she was going to have to get a look at that notebook of his, but she was determined to respect his privacy. She remembered how violated she’d felt when her mother had read her diary when Holly was ten. Holly had been devastated, doubly so when her mother didn’t seem to understand how much of a betrayal the invasion had been. Holly wasn’t about to do that to her son.
Holly sighed, stifling a yawn. With the late-lunch crowd giving way to the early-dinner crew, she was going to need a serious boost of energy soon.
The door chimed—that thing hadn’t stopped jingling all afternoon—and a young woman and pigtailed little girl stepped inside. The child had a frown on her freckled face aimed directly at the group of teens outside as they waltzed and shouted their way down Monarch Lane.
“Hi.” Holly offered what she hoped was a friendly expression of welcome as she passed by them to deliver an order. “Menus are right there. Take a seat wherever you’d like. I’ll be with you quick as I can.”
She heard the woman’s soft “Oh, but I—” as Holly hurried off.
Ursula’s kitchen bell chimed again. The sound of rattling pans and metal spatulas scraping the stovetop echoed in Holly’s ears as she served up three shakes and two hot fudge sundaes. It wasn’t until five customers later that she realized some folks had already been served drinks she couldn’t remember getting. “What the—” She spun on her squeaky sneakers and found the young woman who had come in earlier behind the counter taking orders from the customers who had foregone booths.
“Hi.” The munchkin who came in with Holly’s fairy god-helper tugged on Holly’s belt loop, a crooked grin on her tomboy face. “Mom said to give you this.” She held up the help-wanted sign from the window.
“Thank you, er...” Holly frowned down at the sprite of a little girl. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Charlie Cooper.” She gripped Holly’s hand and gave it a sharp shake. “That’s my mom, Paige. We’re new in town.”
“Hi, Charlie. I’m Holly.” She pocketed her order pad and looked over to where Simon was watching them. “That’s my son, Simon.”
“Hi, Simon!” Charlie called and waved. Her smile could have illuminated every lamppost on Monarch Lane. Holly’s heart lifted as Simon waved back. “Cool! I’ve already made a friend.” She beamed up at Holly. “May I go sit with him?”
“You may,” Holly said, caught off guard by the girl’s vocabulary. “Can I get you something to eat?”
“Mom said she wanted to talk to you first. I need to get my things. Nice to meet you, Holly.” She scrambled to her booth and snatched up the worn Proton Patrol backpack she’d lugged in. Something told Holly a new bond had been formed before Charlie and Simon even spoke.
Holly busied herself with the other orders, keeping one eye on streamlined and unflappable Paige as she worked the counter, including refilling Simon’s soda for him before she tweaked her daughter’s nose. Whatever bills and money Paige collected she left lined up on the counter beside the register for Holly to ring through.
Instead of interrupting or, heaven forbid, stopping Paige’s jaw-dropping momentum, Holly ducked into the kitchen. “Ursula? You see this?”
“Dynamo, that one.” Ursula flipped a huge portion of fresh onions she kept on the grill for her signature patty melts. “Hasn’t gotten one order wrong yet and seems to have a permanent smile on her face.” Ursula poked her spatula at Holly. “I remember when you came to work like that.”
So did Holly. She missed those carefree days. “Do you ever think things are too good to be true?” Whatever other shoe was going to drop, Holly hoped she wasn’t in the vicinity.
“Take them while you can. If you don’t hire her, I will.”
“We don’t know anything about her,” Holly whispered as Paige popped up to the window and attached two new orders to the spinning wheel.
“Paige Cooper.” Paige stuck her hand through and Holly had no choice but to shake it. The young woman reminded Holly of a perky old-fashioned carhop. The only things missing were a paper hat and roller skates. “Charlie and I hit town this afternoon. Staying at the Chrysalis Motel out near the highway. Consider this an audition?”
“Sure.” Holly didn’t know what else to say. There wasn’t anything else to say, given Paige had just saved her sanity—and maybe her entire night. “Dinner’s on me. Whatever you and Charlie want. Pie, too.”
“Appreciate it.” Paige gave a bit of a salute before she grabbed the coffeepot and started making the rounds.
“Looks as if she could use a few meals.” Ursula rose up on her toes to watch Paige flit from table to table. “Seems strong, though. Doesn’t come off as crazy.”
“Crazy doesn’t always show.” People were rarely—if ever—what they seemed. All the same, given the way Holly’s luck had been going, she wasn’t about to turn her back on help no matter how it arrived. “Worth a shot. Order up.” Holly pointed at the new slips of paper and darted out of the way as Ursula waved her magic wand in Holly’s direction.
Holly exited the kitchen, scanned the diner and found her customers eating, laughing, drinking and enjoying themselves. When was the last time she’d seen the place this full or heard it this loud? And when, Holly wondered as she cashed out customer after customer, was the last time the register didn’t let out an anemic groan when it shot open?
By the time the rush was over and the crowd had dwindled to a mere three tables and one counter customer, Paige ordered herself one of Ursula’s veggie burgers for herself and a grilled cheese for her daughter before clearing the last of the tables.
“Charlie?” Paige called. “Five by five?”
“Yup,” Charlie called and held up her hand, fingers splayed.
“Five by five?” Holly asked as Paige shot past her with an overflowing dishpan.
“Shorthand for ‘everything okay.’” Paige shrugged. “We got it off a TV show. It’s also code for her to let me know if something’s wrong.”
“Oh.” Holly nodded. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d watched a TV show with Simon. Or did anything other than look at him across a counter or table. “You ready to take a break?”
“Depends.” Paige dumped the dishpan in the kitchen and tugged a towel through the string of her apron. “Did I pass?”
