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She blew into the diner like a tornado and found Tina going over how to refill the napkin holders with the new guy—whose name she could never remember—and Viv rolled her eyes. “You know Tina,” she said seeming to startle them both, “I’m pretty sure that filling a napkin holder is self-explanatory.” Tina nodded and handed the empty napkin holder and a stack of napkins to the trainee and bounced off into the kitchen. Viv suddenly felt way too old to be keeping company with the teens she usually hired. At twenty-eight, she should feel anything but old. But that was the problem with owning the town’s only diner. Teens seemed to flock to the place in droves and they were also the ones who usually answered her ads for employment. Maybe if she held out this time, she’d find someone who could not only help wait tables but also have some experience behind the grills. Her current cook showed up to work on the days he was sober and those were becoming few and far between. She needed to get her grandmother’s old place back on track and running as smoothly as it had when Gram was alive.
When Viv was seventeen, her Gram dropped the bomb that would forever change Viv’s life—she had cancer and not much time left. Gram had raised Viv since her father took off and her mother died. She was only six years old when the two most important people in her life abandoned her, but Gram stuck around. It took time to realize that her grandmother wasn’t going anywhere and when Gram announced that she had terminal cancer, it hit Viv hard. She promised her Gram that she would take care of her beloved diner but that was easier said than done. Her grandmother fought hard but when Viv was twenty, she passed, leaving her to take care of everything—alone. She had never felt so lonely, not even after divorcing Jason. Her grandmother was her everything. Maybe that was why she was willing to overlook all of Jason’s flaws and accept his marriage proposal. Viv believed that being with someone—anyone—was better than being alone. But boy, was she wrong.
Luckily for her, Gram had taught Viv the ropes at a very young age. She had been helping in the diner her whole life and taking over ownership of the place wasn’t a stretch for her. Her grandmother had thought of everything and arranged for her lawyers to handle the transfer upon her death. Viv showed up to work the day after the funeral and opened the doors for business, much as she always had. It’s what her grandmother wanted, and she honored her wishes. Gram insisted that she get on with her life as quickly as possible and Viv promised to try. Throwing herself back into her work seemed as good a way as any to get on with life.
“Hey, new guy,” she shouted. The trainee turned from trying to shove way too many napkins into the holder and pointed to himself as if to ask, “Me?”. Viv sighed and nodded. “Do you see any other new guys around?” she asked. Sure, she sounded like a class-A bitch, but she didn’t care.
“N-no,” he stuttered.
“You wait tables on your own yet?” she asked but Viv already knew the answer by his blank stare. “All right then,” she said under her breath. “Today you learn to wait tables on your own. It’s sink or swim time, New Guy,” she said.
“Um, my name is Tommy,” he nervously offered.
“Of course, it is,” she whispered to herself. “Okay, Tommy,” she said, turning to hand him an order pad and pencil. “You write everything down. If someone says to hold the onions, write the letter O down next to the order and then cross it out,” she said. Tommy nodded and started jotting down notes as she went over everything and she couldn’t help her smile at remembering the way Gram used to ride her for not using the correct codes for the kitchen.
Viv had taken to abbreviating everything and when her order went back to the cook, he had no freaking idea what the hell to make of it. Gram told her to get it straight or she’d have to deal with the pissed off kitchen staff. After she was yelled at a few times by the cook, Viv learned quickly to avoid his temper and write the correct fucking codes down on her order pad.
“Get the codes right or deal with the cook,” she barked at Tommy. He nodded and started to write down her orders, word for word, and she sighed again. “This is going to be a long fucking day,” she breathed.
Viv busied herself getting the diner ready to open and didn’t even see the wall of man that she ran into while making her way to the back storeroom. “What the fuck?” Viv growled, taking a step back to get her bearings. The guy's big, tattoo-covered hands quickly reached out to her, helping her to find her balance.
“Who are you and how the fuck did you get in here before we’re open?” Viv asked. She looked him up and down and realized that most of his exposed skin was covered in ink and she had to admit, it was hot. She had always liked bad boys even if she had married a clean-cut accountant the first time around. Her grandmother used to say, “If he rides a motorcycle or has tattoos, my granddaughter will date him.” She wondered what her Gram would think of the sexy man standing in front of her now. His light brown hair was long and wavy, hanging down to his broad shoulders. Honestly, he had better hair than she did, and she was suddenly regretting her decision to go a third day without washing it, opting for a messy bun. He looked like he worked out but not the way the muscle heads at the gym did. This guy looked more naturally fit but his muscles seemed to have muscles. His amused smirk told her he wasn’t buying her tough girl routine either.
“I’m here for breakfast,” he said, and his voice sounded like a warm brandy coating her soul.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” Viv asked.
He chuckled, “Nope,” he said. “Although I call the fair state of Alabama my home now, I’m originally from Ireland.”
Dear Lord, Viv felt about ready to burst into flames just from his sexy voice alone. His accent made it harder for her to concentrate on what her next question or comment should be. Hell, she was pretty sure that remembering her name might be a task.
“Can I get some food?” he asked when she didn’t respond.
“Food?” she repeated as though she didn’t understand the word.
“Sure—you know, stuff you eat. Listen, I have a busy day and I just need to fuel up.” Viv looked down at her watch and back up at the sexy, tatted man before her. He took off his black leather jacket and flung it over his shoulder, giving her a better look at not only his tattoos but his muscles. And holy arm porn—he was hot!
“Fine,” she said, trying for a little pissed off but sounding a whole lot more turned on. Shit!
“I’ll just sit here at the counter if that works,” he offered. She didn’t say a word, not sure that anything she uttered would make any sense. Viv just stood there nodding like a fool and watched as he walked past her to find a stool at the front counter. She nearly swallowed her tongue at how good his ass looked in the black jeans that hugged him like a glove. She shook her head as if trying to regain her senses.
“New guy,” she barked. “You’re up.”
“Tommy,” he called from the corner of the diner. “My name is Tommy,” he complained.
“Yeah, yeah. Tommy—you’re up,” Viv corrected and didn’t miss the way the hot biker guy laughed.
“Keep laughing,” she warned. “Tommy here is in training and you’re his first real customer,” she said not hiding her smile. “Good luck to you, Sir,” she said and turned to finish her work in the back storeroom. She needed to take a quick inventory for the day, especially since her now ex-employee fed her friends as though it was her personal pantry. She’d call in her order and then find the time to post a new ad in the local paper.
By the time she finished her inventory, New Guy had not only brought Hot Irish Guy his food, but they were chatting it up like they were old friends. “Don’t you have something you could be doing?” Viv looked Tommy up and down and took a sadistic pleasure in the way he hopped out of her way and pretended to be busy.
“Sure, boss,” he said. Viv pulled the sugar shakers from the counter underneath the bar and started to refill them. “Oh, Tina said to tell you she had to leave for the day. Something about a family emergency,” Tommy said. He shot her a look that suggested he should be afraid to deliver the message and New Guy was right. She felt about ready to lob a sugar shaker at his head but that would only involve paperwork and workman’s comp. claims she didn’t have time for.
“Great,” she mumbled. “That girl has more family emergencies than anyone else I’ve ever met. Just how big is her family anyway?” Viv complained to herself.
Hot Irish guy seemed to find her whole monologue funny. “So, your employees giving you trouble?” he questioned. He shoved four pieces of bacon and half a piece of toast into his mouth.
“Trouble doesn’t begin to describe what they are causing me today—or any other day, for that matter,” she admitted. “I just fired Tina’s best friend for feeding half the town for free and now she takes off with her same old tired excuse. It’s just me and the New Kid,” she said, nodding to where Tommy was still fumbling with the napkin dispensers.
