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I pulled her tablet closer and looked at it. That kitchen island would be a good workspace. And I didn’t have a big TV, but I could put a big whiteboard on that front wall, block out the whole book there. I’d definitely need a microwave, but there were a lot of appliances that would make up for not having a stove. I didn’t want a stove. A stove stared at you and insisted that you make Important Food. The Big Chef didn’t have a stove. The room at the Shady Rest didn’t have a stove. Miss Evans had gotten by without a stove. I needed to tell Olivia that I didn’t want a stove.
I had my own house. I was now part of Burney. Again. Only this time, I was in charge, I was—
Kitty brought our baskets, and I said, “Kitty, I just bought a house,” and she beamed at me.
“You’restayingthen,” she said, delighted, and I took a deep breath and said, “Yes, I’m staying.”
She kissed me on the cheek and said, “Congratulations!” and went back behind the counter, and a minute later, Mac Blake came in and picked up his basket and Coke that he’d probably called in ahead of time for, and then came over and sat down across from me.
“Vince on his way?” he said, nodding to the second basket beside mine.
“I have no idea. His life has gotten weird this week.”
“So I heard. Who—” he began, and then Olivia slid into the booth next to me and pulled her basket to her.
“Oh, my god,” she said, looking down at the huge burger, the fries, the onion rings, the pickle, the side of coleslaw. “I love this place.”
“Wait’ll you taste it,” I said, but she was smiling at Mac now.
“Is this the hunky boyfriend?” she said, picking up a fry as she looked at him with approval. “Very nice indeed.” She pointed her fry at him. “We need you with a sledgehammer, Hunky. Your girl here has a house that needs some demo.”
“House?” Mac said, looking at me in surprise.
“I bought a house,” I told him, and then turned to Olivia. “Not the hunky boyfriend. Mac is my hunky good friend.” I turned to let him say something, but he was staring at Olivia. “Olivia, this is Mac Blake, firefighter, EMT, the best guy I know. Mac, this is Olivia Starr, architect, interior designer, Anemone’s stepdaughter. Olivia, I don’t want a stove.”
They were staring at each other now, and I began to feel unnecessary. “I can move to another booth.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Olivia said, still looking at Mac. “We have work to do.”
Mac was still staring at Olivia, but I couldn’t read the look on his face. “Say something, Mac.”
“I’m afraid,” he said, and I didn’t know if he meant he was afraid to speak, or afraid of Olivia, or afraid of the chasm that had pretty clearly just opened up in front of him, lust at first sight, or possibly all of the above. What was growing clear to me was that Olivia might be the woman to get his head out of his butt about Molly.
“Mac is single,” I said to Olivia. “Are you?”
“Yes,” Olivia said, still looking at Mac.
I sighed. “Mac has no moves, so I must help. Would you be interested in seeing more of Mac, possibly doing some mild snogging?”
“I would climb him like Everest,” Olivia said, thereby proving she truly was Anemone’s daughter.
Mac said, “Uh . . .” but it in no way sounded like “uh, no.”
“Let me out, please,” I said, and when Olivia moved, I took my basket and my Diet Coke over to the counter where I could sit and talk to Kitty about the house, hoping Mac would not screw up what I’d started for him.
If he did, I’d fix it, of course, but still, I’d given the man an open road, the least he could do was take it.
* * *
Just as Iwas nearing the end of my basket, Vince came in and sat down beside me at the counter, looking tired beyond belief.
“We’re not doing booths anymore?” he said, taking one of my last fries.
“Do not look around,” I said.
He looked around.
“Did you see Mac sitting in a booth over there?”
