Page 78 of Fox
Clearly.
Without the fig tree and the peonies and the man with the jaw like an architectural decision standing in the morning light, asking what I want for breakfast.
This is an excellent plan.
It lasts exactly two days.
Because Fox shows up on the third morning.
I am at the counter, drinking coffee and putting together the menu for next week. When the bells above Dina’s tinkle, I turn to see who it could be since we’re about an hour away from opening.
Fox smiles at me. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
I cock an eyebrow. “No.”
He ignores that and walks up to me.
He’s carrying his laptop bag and a coffee from the corner café, which I take offense to. We’re a freaking diner, and he could get coffee here. And if he got a coffee elsewhere, he could stay there.
“How are you, Luce?” He’s wearing the expression of a man who has made a decision about something—which I suspect is me—and is not going to be deterred from it. This is Fox’s most dangerous expression because it is indistinguishable from his resting face.
“Fox—“
“I brought your pills.” He pulls out a bottle of medication from his suit pocket and sets it on the counter. “You didn’t take the nine o’clock beta-blocker for your headache. Dr. Reyes said the nine o’clock one is important.”
“How do you know I didn’t?—“
“Did you?”
I look at the paper bag.
Dina sticks her head out of the kitchen. “I told him.”
“Traitorous bitch,” I mutter.
“I heard that,” Dina says in a singsong voice, taking absolutely no affront as she goes back into the kitchen.
“Have you and Dina been gossiping about me?” I demand.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“We care about you, sweetheart.”
I glare at him. “That’s not the point.”
“It is, medically, actually the point.” He taps the top of the prescription bottle. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I’m sitting down.”
He leans to see what I’m doing. “You’re planning this week’s menu.”
“While sitting down,” I point out.
He sits down next to me on a barstool. “Carry on. I’m going to work from here.”
I stare at him in horror. “You’re not going to work from my diner.”
