I just need something to eat, then I want to lie down on a comfortable bed and sleep for a week at least, then I’ll put my big girl panties on and go to this address that I have for Anna Monroe and find out if my mother still lives there. After that…
I have no clue.
I’m leaving that one down to fate.
Sticking to the main road, I follow it into the center of town. I lean forward, which stretches my back out nicely, and peer through the windshield to take a look around.
It’s a really pretty place. Quaint with a homey feel to it. I can see why someone would want to live here.
Why my mother would want to live here.
Lifting my eyes to the skyline, I see the backdrop of the mountains.
Wow. Stunning.
Leaning back in my seat, I catch sight of a diner. It looks nice and clean. I’ll grab a quick bite to eat here, then find a hotel.
Checking the road is clear, I pull across and park up front the diner. I put my sunglasses back on before exiting my car. My black-eye is still looking noticeably bad.
Locking my car, I stretch my aching body out, then make my way toward the diner.
I push the door open and step inside. Glancing around, I see a lot of the booths are already taken, so I’m praying they can seat me right away. I’d skip eating tonight if I could, but I’ve not eaten much these last few days, and I can feel the toll it’s taking on my body.
A girl walks over to greet me. She is about my age, but half a foot taller with long straight brown hair.
“Hi, welcome to Jo’s. I’m Beth, I’ll be your server. Just a table for one?” she asks, glancing behind me.
“Yes. Just me.” I smile awkwardly. I hate the discomfort that comes with eating alone.
Beth grabs a menu from the hostess stand, and I follow her over to an empty booth at the back of the diner. She places the menu on the table in front of me as I slide in the booth.
“What can I get you to drink?” Her pen is hovered over her notepad.
“I’ll have a diet coke, please,” I answer while my eyes make quick work of the menu. I just want to put my order in so I can eat quickly and drive to the nearest hotel. “I’d like to order my food now if that’s okay?”
“Of course.” She smiles. “What would you like?”
“Cheeseburger and fries.” I was never allowed to eat this kind of food growing up. Oliver wouldn’t allow it, and of course, Forbes has an issue with it. He says the sight of a woman eating a greasy burger is disgusting. Or maybe just the sight of me eating one is what disgusts him.
This is the kind of food I eat in private. And now I’m about to eat it in public.
Freaking thrilling.
Tragic, I know, but nonetheless true.
“Sure.” She takes the menu from me. “Your food will be ten minutes. I’ll be right back with your coke.”
“Thanks. Um, I was wondering … if you could help…”
She gives a curious look.
I twist in my seat a little to look at her. “I literally just arrived in town, and I need a place to stay, so I was wondering if you could recommend a decent hotel?”
Her eyes appraise me, taking me in from the sunglasses on my face to the sneakers on my feet. It makes me feel uncomfortable and tense. I paste a smile on my face as I tuck my feet back under the table.
“Golden Oaks,” she says, putting the menu under her arm. “It’s the best hotel in Durango by far. It’s just up in the mountains. A bit further out than most, but well worth the journey.”
“How far is the drive?” The last thing I want to do is spend more time than necessary in my car.
I notice her watching my mouth, and realize that I’m pulling on my lip with my finger and thumb. I do it when I’m uncomfortable, or nervous. Which is often.
I lay my hand on the table.
“It’s just a fifteen minute drive – ten if you drive fast.” She grins, tilting her head to the side.
I let out a little laugh. “Do you have the address or street name? – For my GPS,” I explain.
“Sure.” She scribbles on the notepad in her hand, then tears off the piece and hands it to me.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” She smiles, brightly. “I’ll be right back with that drink.”
***
I’ve just eaten, quite possibly the best burger I’ve ever had in my life, and now I’m back in my car, following the directions my GPS is telling me.
I’m feeling pretty proud of myself. There was a point back at the diner when I felt the pressing urge to overeat once I started in on the burger—stress catching up with me and trying to take control—but I held myself together and contained the urge. I ate what was on my plate, paid my bill and left.