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“This isn’t over,” I whisper to her, knowing I need to stop pretending to pour coffee so I can talk. “What did Vito say?”
She pouts. “Shot me down.”
I give her a frown of my own. I had a lot of hope for the two of them. “Keep wearing him down.”
She just wrinkles her nose at me. “Go.”
I nod and head back to the tables.
“Trio.” I wink at them and place their coffee cups and carafe down. “All right, guys, your order is in. Do you need anything else?”
“Nope.” Jason sits back. “Just a moment to view your beautiful face.”
Brad groans and hangs his head. “So cheesy.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s made of cheese at this point, just like the moon.” I wink and turn around to take the tray to my two travelers—only there’s just one guy at the table. A strange sense of foreboding slithers up my spine, and I can’t quite place why. “Here you go.” I set the coffee and the cups down. “Where’s your friend?”
“Bathroom.” He smirks, but it’s cold and off.
Yeah, they can go away.
“I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide.”
“No need. We will both take the bacon cheeseburger with sweet potato fries.” He hands me the menus with a toothy grin.
I hum and grab them. “No problem.”
Feeling awkward, I spin around and set the menus down, then write out their ticket to hand to Vito. He gives me a look with his dark eyes, one I’ve seen on Desmond’s face more than once. I feel a little safer knowing he’s here with us, but it doesn’t help shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
As I hand the ticket over to Vito, the sound of the bathroom door opening catches my attention. I turn to see the younger of the two men making his way back to the table. Something about him sets me on edge. Maybe it’s how his eyes linger on me for a second too long, or how he moves with an effortless, predatory grace. Either way, it sends shivers down my spine.
I watch him intently as he rejoins his companion. They exchange a few hushed words, their expressions unreadable. The feeling of unease grows, a knot tightening in my stomach. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s an aura of danger surrounding them.
Turning away, I try to focus on my other tasks, but my senses remain heightened. Every move they make is on my radar, and I can’t help but steal glances at them. My heart races, and my mind forms wild theories about who they might be and what their intentions are.
One thing is for sure—I need to tread carefully. This might be a sleepy diner in a quiet town, but the shadows here hold secrets and dangers I’m only beginning to understand.
“Order up!” Vito shouts, placing three orders on the counter.
I swiftly arrange each plate on my tray, the chime of the bell marking the start of the bustling afternoon rush. It’s the usual crowd of regulars and familiar faces. Tatum and I can often predict who will walk in and when.
“All right, my guys.” I playfully set a plate of spaghetti before Jason, raising a brow. “Guts and blood for you.” I wink mischievously.
Jason chuckles as if I just cracked the best joke in the world. “Guts and blood.” He snorts, playing along.
“Brad, I’ve got roast beast.” I waggle my eyebrows at him, adding a theatrical touch. “And Jeff, smoky skin on rye, pickles on the side.” Their laughter envelops me as I step back. “Enjoy, guys.”
The light banter with the regulars creates a sense of normalcy, even as the uncomfortable presence of the travelers lingers in the background. My focus shifts from them to the comforting rhythm of our diner, a place where we all belong.
“Order up!” Vito shouts again.
Swallowing hard, I glance at the other table. Their heads are bent together as they have an intense conversation. Something doesn’t feel right. Ignoring the uneasy feeling, I grab their order and head over to their table. “Two bacon cheeseburgers and a side of sweet potato fries. Can I get you guys anything else?”
The older man slowly turns his plate a full one hundred and eighty degrees before he looks up at me, his eyes a chilling gunmetal gray. “Hey, is Sal around?”
My stomach plummets into my gut, and I lick my dry lips. I’d definitely lose at poker, since my emotions are an open book. I can’t help the sorrow that flashes across my features. “I’m sorry, but Sal passed away a few months ago.”
“Did he now?” The other man looks at his friend, then back at me.
