Page 13 of Some Sort of Crazy (Happy Crazy Love 2)
“During the summer, I am.”
“Can’t you delegate? What about a manager?”
She shrugged. “Not that I’m good at delegating, but I do have an assistant
manager. I can’t afford to pay him for more hours or responsibilities right now, though. I have a pretty big house payment. And I’m still paying back loans I took out to open this place.”
“What’s a loan?”
She looked confused for a second and then she slapped my shoulder. “You trust fund babies. So out of touch with the real world.”
“Kidding, kidding.” I pulled the plate closer to me and looked up at her. “I do work for a living, you know. But is there something I can help you with? Do you need a loan from me to pay off the bank?”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “Thanks, but it’s kind of a source of pride for me that I’m doing this all on my own.”
“Amorous Dan isn’t helping?”
“Not at the moment.”
Was it my imagination or had her jaw clenched a little before she answered? I decided to redirect. “How’s your interest rate?”
She winced slightly. “It’s OK.”
“Well then, there’s pride and there’s being stubborn.”
Something flitted across her face that I couldn’t read—surprise? Anger? Whatever it was, it was gone a second later. “Thanks, but I’m OK.”
“Suit yourself. I’m happy to help out a friend in need.”
“I’ll remember that.” She patted my head like a puppy’s. “Enjoy. I better get back to work.”
“Do you mind if I stick around awhile? I don’t want to monopolize this table if you need it, but I have some writing to do.”
She gave me a smile soft and sweet as the cotton candy we used to share. “Stay as long as you like.”
• • •
A couple hours later, I could see why she wanted a day off. She was all over the place, doing everything from preparing food to serving it to pouring coffee to ringing people up, and she always had a smile on her face. As busy as she was, she made it a point to say hello to regulars and newcomers alike, and often stopped to chat with people she knew or someone with a question.
I finished my breakfast and tried to work on the novel I was writing, but I was distracted and tired. Just go home and get some sleep. You’ve been up all fucking night. But home up here was a huge empty house, and although I liked its creaky old floors and wraparound porch and the view of the Nixon cherry orchard next door from my bedroom window, something about being there alone saddened me. I liked it in here better. I liked the happy, caffeinated mood, the hum of conversation, the Billie Holiday playing in the background, the smell of muffins in the oven and coffee in the pot.
Besides, Natalie was here, and if I was honest with myself, I’d admit the real reason I came up North was to figure out why I couldn’t get her out of my head. It made no sense—I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I knew she was still with Dan, and I had no reason to believe she’d be interested in me even if neither of those things were true. And yet for months now, maybe even the last year, the thought of her just wouldn’t quit me. Why the hell was that?
I’d told her I was up here researching sex in haunted places, and that was true enough. But the only ghost in my head was her.
I mentioned I’d fuck a ghost, right?
Dan called me around three that afternoon. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi.” I exhaled and plunked myself onto a stool at the counter.
“Tough day?”
I rubbed one calf muscle. “Just long. Busy, which is good. But we’re closed now, just locked the door.”
“What are your plans?”
“After I finish up here, which will probably take me a while, since I’m short-staffed today, I was going to swim. You have tennis tonight, right?”
