hair disappearing from sight for a moment, then bobbing back up. The pigtails turned to the side and bobbed along toward the heart of the truck stop.
Gina hesitated, keys in one hand and the door handle in the other. She gazed at the truck stop. It couldn’t hurt to go inside and have a cup of coffee.
She pushed the car door open, then walked casually across the parking lot. She hoped that she didn’t run into anyone she knew. How would she – how could she? – explain what she was doing? She tugged the glass door open and stepped into the artificially cooled air of the truck stop, then looked around. She spotted the odd woman as she slid into a booth in the restaurant. A tired looking waitress refilled the bacon bits on the salad bar.
Gina caught the waitress’s eye and pointed to the first booth beyond the trucker section. The waitress nodded and Gina hurried through the trucker section, avoiding eye contact with the subject of her surveillance, and slid into the booth, facing the door. She watched the back of the odd woman. Gray streaked her frizzy red hair.
As Gina expected, the diner was busy. Truckers sat in booths, some alone, some paired off. Behind her, tables and booths were full.
The waitress dropped a stained menu in front of Gina. “Get ya somethin’ to drink?”
Gina turned her coffee cup upright in the saucer. “Just coffee, please. Decaf.”
“Be right back with it, hon.” The waitress walked away from Gina and stopped at the other woman’s booth. The waitress hurried past Gina toward the kitchen. Less than a minute later, she returned with a coffee pot in each hand, and poured Gina’s from the one with the green lid. She gestured at the cream and sugar, then bustled off and poured coffee out of the regular pot for the crazy lady.
The two women sat alone in their respective booths, surrounded by other people involved in conversations. Gina slowly stirred a sugar packet and two creamers into her coffee.
Gina hadn’t been planning to get anything, but she when she saw the chicken fingers on the menu, she changed her mind. Toby loved chicken fingers and that would give her an excuse to be at the truck stop. She ordered a one-trip salad bar for herself and chicken fingers with white cream gravy to go. After the waitress moved on to the crazy lady, Gina walked to the salad bar and filled her plate. She passed the waitress at the end of the salad bar.
Gina caught her by the arm, “Excuse me.”
The harried waitress smiled, after the briefest hint of a frown appeared on her brow. “Whatcha need?”
Gina leaned forward and whispered, “That woman with the pig tails? She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Do you know her name?”
The waitress shook her head no, but added, “Drives one of them bull haulers. Comes in fairly regular.”
Gina thanked the woman for her time and walked back to her booth. She had no sooner sat down than her ex walked through the front doors of the truck stop. He exuded that bad boy aura, with a black leather jacket and dark jeans. He pulled off his mirrored sunglasses and tucked them in his chest pocket as he strolled into the restaurant and slid into the booth across from the pig tailed woman.
Gina slumped in her seat as her mind raced. What business could Steve possibly have with that woman trucker?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Ex
Gina cautiously raised her eyes. Steve looked over his shoulder, and glanced at the other truckers sitting nearby. His eyes never slid her way, though. She stirred her salad a bit to distribute the dressing evenly, then forked a piece of lettuce and stuck it in her mouth. She couldn’t leave before Steve, so she chewed slowly.
Gina strained to hear what was said over the clanking silverware and music emanating from the overhead speakers, but couldn’t make out the words. These two obviously weren’t going to do anything illegal sitting in the restaurant of the local truck stop.
Spending Friday
Gina hesitated, keys in one hand and the door handle in the other. She gazed at the truck stop. It couldn’t hurt to go inside and have a cup of coffee.
She pushed the car door open, then walked casually across the parking lot. She hoped that she didn’t run into anyone she knew. How would she – how could she? – explain what she was doing? She tugged the glass door open and stepped into the artificially cooled air of the truck stop, then looked around. She spotted the odd woman as she slid into a booth in the restaurant. A tired looking waitress refilled the bacon bits on the salad bar.
Gina caught the waitress’s eye and pointed to the first booth beyond the trucker section. The waitress nodded and Gina hurried through the trucker section, avoiding eye contact with the subject of her surveillance, and slid into the booth, facing the door. She watched the back of the odd woman. Gray streaked her frizzy red hair.
As Gina expected, the diner was busy. Truckers sat in booths, some alone, some paired off. Behind her, tables and booths were full.
The waitress dropped a stained menu in front of Gina. “Get ya somethin’ to drink?”
Gina turned her coffee cup upright in the saucer. “Just coffee, please. Decaf.”
“Be right back with it, hon.” The waitress walked away from Gina and stopped at the other woman’s booth. The waitress hurried past Gina toward the kitchen. Less than a minute later, she returned with a coffee pot in each hand, and poured Gina’s from the one with the green lid. She gestured at the cream and sugar, then bustled off and poured coffee out of the regular pot for the crazy lady.
The two women sat alone in their respective booths, surrounded by other people involved in conversations. Gina slowly stirred a sugar packet and two creamers into her coffee.
Gina hadn’t been planning to get anything, but she when she saw the chicken fingers on the menu, she changed her mind. Toby loved chicken fingers and that would give her an excuse to be at the truck stop. She ordered a one-trip salad bar for herself and chicken fingers with white cream gravy to go. After the waitress moved on to the crazy lady, Gina walked to the salad bar and filled her plate. She passed the waitress at the end of the salad bar.
Gina caught her by the arm, “Excuse me.”
The harried waitress smiled, after the briefest hint of a frown appeared on her brow. “Whatcha need?”
Gina leaned forward and whispered, “That woman with the pig tails? She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Do you know her name?”
The waitress shook her head no, but added, “Drives one of them bull haulers. Comes in fairly regular.”
Gina thanked the woman for her time and walked back to her booth. She had no sooner sat down than her ex walked through the front doors of the truck stop. He exuded that bad boy aura, with a black leather jacket and dark jeans. He pulled off his mirrored sunglasses and tucked them in his chest pocket as he strolled into the restaurant and slid into the booth across from the pig tailed woman.
Gina slumped in her seat as her mind raced. What business could Steve possibly have with that woman trucker?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Ex
Gina cautiously raised her eyes. Steve looked over his shoulder, and glanced at the other truckers sitting nearby. His eyes never slid her way, though. She stirred her salad a bit to distribute the dressing evenly, then forked a piece of lettuce and stuck it in her mouth. She couldn’t leave before Steve, so she chewed slowly.
Gina strained to hear what was said over the clanking silverware and music emanating from the overhead speakers, but couldn’t make out the words. These two obviously weren’t going to do anything illegal sitting in the restaurant of the local truck stop.
Spending Friday
Similar Books
