Hangry

by Lily Kate

  Lucas surveys my outfit. “Take ten minutes. Fifteen.”

  I scrunch my nose up at him. “Then, we need to swing by the diner.”

  “Great. You can buy me a coffee.”

  Chapter 4

  LEXI

  “I’m sorry!” I rush through the front door of my diner. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”

  My second in command looks up from his post behind the counter. Rick is a busy and sweet dad of four who seems to love his job. I can’t figure out if it’s the diner he loves, or the temporary escape from a house with four little children in it, but I’ll take it. He’s a fantastic employee.

  “No problem.” Rick grins as I skid around the counter and shove on an apron. “But I was worried sick about you! Why didn’t you answer your phone sooner? I was about to send the SWAT team when your text came through.”

  I quickly explain about the impound, the elevator, and everything else. As I’m talking, I glance around at the diner. “Is it quiet in here today?”

  Rick gives a one shoulder shrug. “We had the typical after church crew come and go. Lunch... yeah, lunch has been quiet.”

  “Huh.”

  My diner is named Minnie’s. We’re located on a tiny corner lot, a shoebox in the scheme of city plots. Inside, however, you’d never know it. We’ve played up the old-school, retro vibe and went hard core on the diner-themed decorations. It’s cozy and familiar, and I’ve heard Barb, my first-ever customer, say that walking in the door feels like a second home.

  Being that my brother plays for the Stars, my dad’s a coach, and my mother is a full-fledged hockey mom, we also have lots of hockey paraphernalia. Photographs of the Stars going back to their first year as a team line all the walls, along with a few random license plates, Minnesota themed posters, and staff pictures. It’s a jumble of local goodness, and we’ve earned our way onto a few ‘Things to do in Minnesota’ lists.

  On top of décor, there’s the heavenly smell. Bits of syrup and melting butter mix with freshly ground coffee beans, forming a scent that’s nothing short of delectable. We have a pretty standard menu, which the regulars have memorized, and I’m proud of it. I’ve heard more than one person say it’s the best chocolate chip waffle they’ve eaten in the state.

  “Oh, sweetie, that sounds horrible.” Rick lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Is your brother waiting outside?”

  I nod.

  “Go get your car. We’ll hold down the fort here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Rick nods. His hair is graying, his eyes a gentle blue. He’s older than me by about ten years, and I can’t decide if he’s more of a father figure, a brother, or simply a friend. Whatever he is, he’s the best second-in-command I could’ve dreamed up.

  “Go get your car,” he says. “It won’t be long before the night shift gets here. Sunday nights are pretty low key after the bridge club leaves.”

  “Thank you, Rick. So sorry I didn’t call sooner—the service was impossible in the elevator, and—”

  “Go on,” he says. “Even the boss is allowed off now and again.”

  I shoot him a grateful smile and make my way back out to the car with two to-go mugs of coffee. I hand one to Lucas and take a cautious sip of the other. It’s piping hot and dark, just the way I like it.

  “It’s quiet in there today,” I say, as Lucas pulls away from the curb. “I wonder why.”

  “Nice day out.” Lucas squints into the May sunlight. “Maybe people are outside.”

  “Maybe.”

  He glances over. “Are you worried?”

  “It’s not exactly a get rich quick sort of business. It’s not even a get rich slow business. If it stays this quiet for much longer, I won’t be able to afford rent.”

  Lucas’s face turns into a mask of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Lex. What can I do?”

  “Nothing, I’m just whining.”

  “You’re not whining! What you’ve done is incredible. Managed to turn a profit within three years. Most businesses fail in one. All businesses have soft months—it’s natural. You just need to find a way to get customers back in there.”

  “If only it were that easy.”

  “Maybe it is,” Lucas says. “Think about it. You’re smart; I know you’ll come up with a solution.”

  I offer him a smile, then curb my whining and focus on the warmth of the sun hitting my face as we cruise through town to the impound lot. The sunshine, the coffee, the conversation with my brother—it’s a surprisingly pleasant Sunday drive.

  “You’re not really going on a date with him, are you?” Lucas finally asks, once we’ve skirted the topic for long enough. “Come on, Lexi.”

  “I have to. Fair is fair.”

  “What do you mean by that? You don’t have to do anything.”

  “He gave me his burger if I agreed to a date.”

  “He bribed you?”

  “He bribed my stomach,” I correct. Then laugh at my brother’s expression. “Give me a break. I wouldn’t go if I really didn’t want to. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be a good thing. Repair some of the damages from before.”

  “You really don’t think things can go back to the way they were before, do you?”

  “Call me a dreamer, but I’d like to try.”

  “Lex—”

  “Maybe if you actually told me what happened between the two of you, I’d understand more. But you’ll have to imagine from my point of view—it looks like Bradley ruined his knee, and then magically the two of you stopped talking. What happened?”

  “Nothing. Forget it.”

  “My point is proven.”

  “Couldn’t you repair damages without dating him?”

  “What’s it to you? You still never answered the question.”

  “I just feel like... he’s not the right one for you.”

  I fall silent, mostly because I feel the same way about my brother and Kitty. So, if he feels this way, maybe there’s something to it.

  My brother throws a hand up. “I mean, he’s Brad! Our friend. Friends don’t date each other.”

  “Is he your friend?” I slide out of the car. “Because friends actually talk. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Lex—”

  I wait for him to expand, but he doesn’t.

  Instead, he flings his hands up in the air before white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel. He shakes his head and sighs. “Just be careful.”

  Chapter 5

  LEXI

  “Here you are, my dear.” Sasha gingerly sets a tray of freshly baked sweets on the counter. “Ten cinnamon rolls, two dozen cookies, and three pies. Think that’ll hold you over for tomorrow?”

  I’m at Minnie’s, and my friend Sasha, owner and baker extraordinaire of Sasha’s Sweets next door, has made her way over to the diner on her usual break. She has a sample of her wares on the counter, and is grinning at me.

  I stop in the middle of pouring myself a cup of coffee and wander over to the tray, inhaling deeply as the scents of sugar and sweet wind their way up toward me. The cookies are still warm, fresh out of the oven, and I nab one straight off the platter.

  “You’re supposed to sell those, you know.” Sasha eases onto the bar stool. Reaching across the counter, she swipes my cup of coffee and takes a sip. “What do you rate them?”

  I close my eyes, take a bite, and savor the oozing warm chocolate.

  “Stop making that face with those sounds, or people are going to get the wrong idea about your restaurant.” Kitty returns from the bathroom, just as I give Sasha my approval with a huge groan. “And while we’re on the subject, you should really think about getting laid. From something other than a cookie. Preferably someone, probably a man.”

  “What about the one from the elevator?” Sasha asks. “I thought y’all were supposed to have a date, anyway.”

  I shake my head, surveying my friends from my vantage point behind the counter. It’s a Monday morning exactly one month and one day since the elevator incident with
Bradley Hamilton. I’ve gone over the play by play of that moment hundreds of times. I’ve explained it to Kitty and Sasha until they can tell the story better than me.

  Kitty, as usual, has nowhere to be on a Monday morning. Hence the reason she invites herself down to the diner and pretends to work on inspiration for her next piece while downing cup after cup of coffee.

  Not that I mind, seeing as Monday’s are pretty slow after ten thirty. Barb and the water aerobics team, consisting of ten women all over the age of ninety, swing by for a cup of coffee and doughnuts after their morning practice, but they clear out by ten-twenty-nine on the dot. The bridge club doesn’t come in for lunch until eleven thirty, so we have an hour in between when the diner is virtually dead.

  Sasha Temple, my other best friend, does have somewhere to be on a Monday morning. However, it happens to be next door at Sasha’s Sweets. Sasha and I were born within a month of one another, and we’d bought adjoining stores within a week of each other. In some parallel universe, we were likely sisters.

  Where some folks would’ve tried to compete—a sweet shop and a diner on the same block?—we made a friendly deal. I provide her with freshly made sandwiches every day while she brings over a few piping hot desserts. Usually, she’ll swing over for a cup of coffee when she brings the desserts and leave her assistant in charge.

  “Yeah, I must have screwed something up,” I say, taking another bite of my cookie. “I’ve barely talked to him all month.”

  “Have you seen him?” Kitty steals Sasha’s mug, which was formerly mine, and takes a sip. “Maybe he’s out of town.”

  I grab two additional mugs from behind the counter and pour out enough coffee for all three of us. “Oh, I’ve seen him. We’ve made all sorts of awkward eye contact.”

  Sasha looks at Kitty, who shrugs. “What does all sorts of awkward eye contact even mean?”

  “You know.” I make a weird gesture with my hands. “Like we’ll both open our doors at the same time, and his eyes will meet mine. It’s weird.”

  “Then what?” Kitty asks. “Most normal people would say hello and move along with their day.”

  “I’m not a normal person.”

  “Don’t tell me you slam the door shut and wait until he leaves.” Sasha eyes me over the batch of sweets. “C’mon, Lexi. The guy clearly has it bad for you; give him a little bone. You have to show him a tiny sign of friendliness.”

  “No! Absolutely not. If he wanted to hang out with me, he could make good on the date I already agreed to. I’m waiting for him to call.”

  “You live with him,” Kitty argues. “If you keep slamming the door in his face, the poor guy will never ask you out on a date. His little penis is probably shriveling up in fear at the mere thought of it. Boys are sensitive creatures underneath their tough exteriors.”

  “It’s not little,” I say under my breath.

  Both girls halt immediately. “What?”

  My cheeks flush at the implication. “I mean, I’ve never seen it, but... I imagine it’s uh, plenty sizeable.”

  Sasha giggles and looks over at Kitty. “Clearly she’s been thinking about it.”

  “Daydreaming about Bradley,” Kitty agrees. “Was it good? You know, in your mind?”

  “You guys are horrible!” I’m thoroughly embarrassed now, which is rare for me. Especially around Kitty and Sasha—we tell each other everything. And I mean everything.

  “You’re not supposed to withhold from us!” Sasha cried. “You agreed!”

  “Customers are here! Keep it down or you’ll scare them away,” I huff, storming around the edge of the bar to bring menus to two men in business suits who’ve wandered through the door looking a little lost. “Can I help you?” I ask them. “Table for two?”

  “Yes, thank you. Preferably by the window.”

  I lead the men to one of the best tables with a view of the Mississippi River. It’s obscured only slightly by the hustle and bustle of downtown St. Paul, and the ambiance is peaceful. In addition, I had gotten more than a little lucky with my lease. It’s cheap, my landlord is flexible, and the location is perfect.

  “Hold on a minute,” the second man says. He’s probably in his forties, balding, and a little paunchy around the middle. “Are you...?”

  I smile as he points to the picture of my face on the back of the menu. Rick put it there without my knowing, so days before we opened, it’d been a complete surprise when the menus arrived with a small photo and biography of Lexi Monroe at the bottom.

  I hadn’t had the time or the money to change it and, thankfully, not many people notice. In an odd way, I had been flattered he’d cared so much to think of me.

  “That’s me,” I say. “Lexi Monroe.”

  The man nods as he scans over the menu. “So how long have you been in this space?”

  “Just over three years. Got the lease four years ago or so, but it took some time to renovate.”

  “Great, great,” he murmurs. “Any plans to expand?”

  “Not in the near future. I’ve got a lot on my plate, and I enjoy keeping things small. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Coffee, please,” the first man says. The second nods in agreement.

  “I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu,” I say with a bright smile. “Then I’ll send the server over. I highly recommend the chocolate chip waffles if you haven’t had them yet.”

  “First time here,” the second man says. “We’ll try the waffles.”

  “Both of you?”

  The other man nods, having barely looked at the menu. “Sounds great.”

  “Cookies are fresh, too,” I say. “Can I start you with one? I’ll have it come out with the coffee. Complimentary.”

  “Can’t say no to that.”

  I retrieve their menus and head back toward the bar. I begin preparing two cookies while Sasha and Kitty stare me down. I finally acknowledge them with a groan. “Why are you staring?”

  “You huffed away all annoyed, and now you’re grabbing cookies,” Kitty says. “Binge eating is not the answer.”

  “They’re for the customers.”

  “Are you giving them away again?” Sasha sighs while Kitty shakes her head. “You know I don’t care what you do with the sweets, but you have to sell products to make money.”

  “But they’re delicious, and everyone should try them.” I put the cookies on plates and napkins and pour out more coffees. “It’s their first time here; I have to make a good impression.”

  “Right. Which is why you’re bringing food to the tables.” Kitty looks around the restaurant. “Don’t you have a server on the clock? Where is he?”

  I haven’t actually seen Theo in over an hour. I’m fairly sure he went into the alley to take a phone call awhile ago and never came back.

  “I enjoy doing it.” I stomp the tray back across the room and turn a smile on as I reach the customers. “Hope you two enjoy. They’re from Sasha’s Sweets next door. I also highly recommend them if you’re ever in need of a latte.”

  “What’s the square footage of this joint?” The first man asks before I can turn back. “It’s way larger inside than outside lets on.”

  “You know, I don’t remember off hand. But it’s just the right size for us.” I scan the picture laden walls, and the coziness of the chairs and tables tucked neatly in rows. “Enjoy the cookies.”

  I’m a little confused as I march back to the bar. Never in three years have I been asked the square footage of my diner. Glancing around again, I take stock: there’s the bar, which hosts fourteen stools around the curved counter. Another twenty tables and booths line the outer windows and walls. I can fit six small tables outside on the sidewalk patio when the weather’s nice. It’s plenty big for us without being too large.

  “Who do you think those guys are?” I lower my voice as I punch in an order for two sets of waffles. “They seem odd. Something is off about them.”

  “How do you figure?” Sasha asks, peering into the mi
rror behind the bar to catch a better glimpse of them.

  “The questions they’re asking. Plus, they didn’t even look at the menu.”

  “Gasp,” Kitty says. “Maybe they knew what they wanted.”

  “It’s their first time here.”

  “Huh. Well, I can certainly find out for you.”

  “What is she doing?” I ask Sasha as Kitty stands, preens, and heads to the bathroom.

  Sasha shakes her head. “Working her magic.”

  I poke my head into the kitchen to check on the waffles.

  “Almost done,” Luis confirms.

  He’s a mind reader, as well as an excellent chef. Without him, my business would be far more difficult to run. I manage cooking often enough on the stove behind the counter, but during the busy hours, it’s nice to have a helping hand.

  I thank him, but before I can leave, he waves me over. “Where’s Theo? I haven’t seen him in an hour.”

  “I’ll run the order this time,” I say. When Luis frowns, I add quickly. “Just this once. I promise I’ll talk to him after about his phone calls.”

  “You always say you’ll talk to him after,” Sasha says as I return to the counter. “Yes, I’m allowed to eavesdrop if you discuss these things in front of me. Why haven’t you talked to Theo yet?”

  I shrug. “I like running the food.”

  “You’re his boss. You’re paying him,” Sasha says. “You can tell him to shape up and get his act together if he’s sitting on the phone for half of his shift.”

  “But—”

  “No buts!” Sasha raises her eyebrows. “Before Theo, it was Allison. Before Allison, it was Domino. Before Domino—”

  “I get it,” I groan. “Why can’t I find someone as reliable as Callie?”

  Sasha sighs. “Callie wasn’t always reliable. She came late to her first three shifts. I hired her as a freshman in college at Sasha’s, and now she’s the best employee ever, but it’s not an accident. I had to have a few talks with her.”

  “Really? She seems so nice.”

  “She is nice, but being nice has nothing to do with being a good employee—or at least, not all of it.” Sasha leans against the counter. “It’s a job, and these kids have to take it seriously. You’re a businesswoman. Sit down and talk to Theo. Stop doing his job for him. It’ll only benefit you both.”