Pawn of the Billionaire(4)

“Yup.” I waited. “You want your usual?”

“Yes. Thanks.” She looked over at the other couple. “We told these people that it’s cheap and filling here, and that you keep an eye out for us.”

I smiled over at them. “You got a kid on the same ward?”

“Yes,” the woman whispered. “She was admitted yesterday. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

“Okay. Well you sit down here, and have a look at the menu. A good breakfast will set you up for the day. Shall I get you tea or coffee to start?”

“Coffee, please.”

“All right. Coming right up.” I swung through to the back, my own problems receding a bit. I knew what they’d be going through right now from when Mom had first been diagnosed, then the long slide down to losing her, always hoping that this treatment would work, this one would save her.

I looked through the small hatch as the door swung again. It was old Sam, carrying all his worldly possessions in two plastic bags. Awkwardly, he pushed through, both bags in his left hand, his right sleeve swinging empty. I hurried through.

“Here you go, Sam. I’ll take those for you.” I was the only person he let help him, he’d growl at anyone else, but he had a big soft spot for me, and I always gave him his coffee before Marco got here, and then he’d fill up all day with the free refills. He beamed at me as best he could, and shuffled through to the men's room where he’d try and tidy himself up a bit. I dumped his bags on the floor by the table where he always sat. His entire life revolved around the diner. Day after day he’d be here. Damn, I didn’t want my life to be like that. I went to get his coffee while thinking hard. What was the next thing I needed to do with my plan? My plan to escape this dead-end job. My dead-end life.

It was still quite early, and I was busy with the breakfasts, when the door swung again. I glanced idly out, and my heart sank. It was the tall, out-of-place guy who’d been watching me yesterday. I scowled, and turned away. Let him find his own seat. I picked up the plates as Pete slid them onto the hot server, looking them over to remind myself which customer they belonged to.

I hit the door with my ass to swing out with both hands full of plated meals and I was hit with a sudden tingling sensation. Oh, God, what was it? I looked around. The man standing by the door waiting to be seated wasn’t the guy from yesterday. He looked just as uncomfortable, but fucking hell, this man was hot! I swallowed hard and forced my eyes away from him. I served the silent couple at their usual table and smiled mechanically at them. “Any extra table condiments?”

“No. Thanks, Toni. We’re fine.”

I nodded and went over towards the door. “Can I help you?”

I could feel my heart beginning to race out of my control, and my panties dampened. I wasn’t used to this. I had little time to meet men, go to parties. But here was someone who just by being here was making me feel like a teenager again.

He was staring at me too. He looked — I don’t know. He looked shattered. I had to pull myself together.

“You here for coffee, sir?” I asked and gestured towards the back table.

He started. “Oh. Yes, thanks.” I could see him pulling himself together. “Yes, coffee, please.” His voice was quiet, authoritative but sexy, with the faint English accent of someone who’d been over here for some years.

“Coming right up.” I swung to the back and made his coffee, finding myself choosing one of the newest mugs.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” I called to the boy’s father, who was waiting to pay for their breakfast. I knew I had to concentrate. Everyone said I was clumsy, and the one thing I didn’t want to do was tip coffee over the sexiest man I’d ever seen in here.

“There you go, sir.” I put the mug in front of him. “The menu’s there if you want anything to eat.” I glanced at his face, and then looked away fast. He was studying me curiously. I wondered for a moment if I’d got something on my face or my makeup had smeared. My insides clenched.

I hurried over to the register, feeling my face burning.

“Seven dollars, then.” I took the dad’s ten spot, and gave him his change. His wife came up and stood next to him.

“Try not to worry too much.” I felt so sorry for them. “He’ll take it out on you, because he feels secure enough with you to risk it.” I smiled at them and slammed the register shut.

“Chemo’s horrible, especially when you’re watching your kid go through it.” I made a face. “Tell me how he’s got on in the morning, okay?”