So he was back at the diner, perusing the menu and working up the courage to talk to the woman sitting farther down the counter. She looked vaguely familiar to him, and he’d finally placed her as the woman who owned the secondhand store near the bank. He’d seen her on the sidewalk sometimes, setting up sale racks, but he’d never spoken to her. And even if he’d ever known her name, he wouldn’t have remembered it.
She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Granted, that didn’t mean much, but it’s not as if he was going to open with your place or mine? Casual conversation would give him plenty of opportunity to clarify her relationship status before it came time to make a decision on asking her out or not.
He’d left two empty stools between them. It seemed enough to respect her personal space, but not so far away they couldn’t have a conversation if she was so inclined. Assuming he worked up the nerve to speak to her.
“Do you know what you want, Max?”
He looked up at Tori, who had her order pad and pen at the ready. Just seeing her friendly smile relaxed him. “What do you recommend?”
“Gavin made pork tenderloin for the special tonight, with a brown sugar and balsamic vinegar glaze. Served with garlic mashed potatoes and your choice of creamed corn or a spiced, chunky applesauce.”
He noticed she hadn’t actually answered the question he asked. “He made it, but do you recommend it?”
“Absolutely. I taste-tested it myself when I got here so I could give my honest opinion. It’s delicious.”
“Then I’ll try it. With the applesauce, please. And decaf to drink, if it’s fresh.”
“Paige just started brewing a fresh pot, so I’ll grab you a cup as soon as it’s done.”
When Tori walked away, Max snuck a look down the counter. The secondhand store woman had dark hair cut into one of those smooth cuts that ended just below her chin. She was around his age and she was reading. It was a magazine, but that still counted. He also took note that her bill was on the edge of the counter, along with some cash, which meant she’d probably be leaving very soon.
He cleared his throat and turned his head, making sure his voice would project to her. “The weather’s nice today.”
She glanced sideways at him and then, apparently realizing he was talking to her, gave him a brief smile. “Yes, it is.”
“It’ll start getting cold soon.”
“Every year.”
She turned her attention back to the magazine she’d been reading, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “Do you follow any sports?”
“No, I don’t. Sorry,” she said, glancing at him again, this time without the smile. Then she turned the page of the magazine and lifted it so there could be no missing the fact she was reading.
Even Max could take that hint. Stifling a sigh, he tried to not think about how quickly he’d been shot down. He wasn’t sure what the average time was, but he felt like a guy should get more than three lines.
Tori set a mug of decaf in front of him and he could tell by the kindness on her face, she’d witnessed his lame attempt to talk to the woman. He felt his cheeks heat, so he focused his attention on unwrapping his silverware and setting it on his napkin. “Here you go, Max. It shouldn’t take too long for your supper to come up.”
“Thank you.”
He took his time fixing his coffee because it gave him something to occupy his attention until the secondhand shop lady left. As he sipped it, he heard two female voices coming from a booth behind him, talking in the kind of hushed voices that meant they didn’t want to be overheard.
“Muriel says his car is always in the driveway. He doesn’t go to work anywhere.”
“Maybe he does one of those work-from-home things I saw on the internet.”
“It’s just weird if you ask me.”
Max purposely tuned them out, taking the menu out of the holder to read the dessert offerings printed on the back. He probably wouldn’t have anything, but it gave him something to focus on.
It seemed like forever before Tori brought him his meal. It looked delicious, and he told her so while she refilled his coffee cup.
“Gavin’s a great cook,” she said. “I’m not sure where he gets it from, but I hope he gets to work in a fancy restaurant someday.”
“Does that mean you can’t cook?”
She laughed. “I can keep myself fed well enough, but I don’t have the skill or patience to put together meals like Gavin does. Seems like a lot of time investment for something you’re just going to eat.”
“I like to cook. Especially after sitting all day, working. It’s good to move around the kitchen.”
“I know all about wanting to move around after sitting all day.”
He remembered meaning to ask her about her employment next time he was in. “Is this a second job for you?”
“Yeah. My primary job is graphic design. Mostly I do book covers. Actually, though I’ll design promotional materials for my clients.”
That surprised and intrigued him. “Really? So you’re an artist, too.”
“Too?” She grinned and he realized he’d given her a very big clue.
“I meant in addition to being a waitress here.”
“Sure you did.”