Just a Taste by Shannyn Schroeder Page B

the seat beside her. “Do you know anyone who might want to run the truck?”
    Liam thought for a minute. No one came to mind. Of course, anyone who had a job might consider it, depending on the pay. “At the risk of sounding crude, is the truck profitable?”
    â€œThat’s not crude—it’s business. Yes, we operate in the black. We own the truck and the equipment. My dad took a regular paycheck and paid me for the office work. It’s part of why I’m hesitant to let it sit for a year. My dad took his good reputation from the restaurant and it followed him on the food truck.” She shook her head as she dipped a forkful of lettuce into the salad dressing. “I thought he was nuts when he suggested buying the truck.”
    â€œHe got in right when it was becoming a popular trend, though. Smart man, your dad.”
    She nodded and he thought he saw the hint of tears again. He gave her a minute to calm her emotions. Squirting ketchup all over his mound of fries, he focused on his choices. Would he want to run the truck? For all his experience in a kitchen, he knew nothing about food trucks. He bit into the cheeseburger and found it dry, overcooked. He chewed and swallowed anyway.
    Carmen looked at him, her face tilted to the left. “Do you find yourself criticizing every chef when you go out to eat?”
    It was like she had read his thoughts. “I try not to. I don’t usually say anything out loud. Why?”
    She lifted one shoulder. “You had this look on your face. I don’t know. I remember seeing it on my dad’s face when we would go out. Not always, but whenever the food wasn’t up to his standards.”
    He smiled, remembering Gus. “Yeah. I remember your dad’s looks. He was a crotchety man when it came to food.”
    This brought a laugh from her and he liked the sound. She needed to remember to laugh with memories of Gus. He’d been lucky because he’d been surrounded by his siblings after his dad’s death. Whenever one of them felt down, someone else had a funny story.
    As her laughter faded to a smile, she said, “I guess you would see him that way. He rarely showed me that side. But I saw it sometimes in the kitchen when he talked to the staff.”
    Liam reached back in his mind for other stories about Gus to share with her, to help her feel better. For the next hour, they laughed together over tales from the Mexican restaurant where they had both done some growing up. Her salad plate was clean, his burger only half-eaten, but he wasn’t hungry. He was enjoying himself too much.
    With a glance at her watch, Carmen looked up at him with wide eyes. “Am I making you late for work? I wasn’t paying attention to the time. I’m so sorry. I forget that other people actually have jobs and stuff to get to.”
    â€œI’m fine. Speaking of jobs, what are you going to do?”
    Her shoulders lifted with her inhale, like she needed additional oxygen in order to form an answer. “I guess it depends on the truck. I’ll have to help whoever we hire. I’ll continue the office work. If we can’t find someone, I guess I’ll look for another job. In all honesty, I haven’t given it much thought.”
    â€œI was just wondering. I’d hate to see you turn into the crazy cat lady of your neighborhood,” he joked.
    She threw a balled-up napkin and hit him on the forehead. He tossed it back and it landed in the V of her shirt, nestled between her breasts. She smiled and shook her head.
    â€œNeed me to get that for you?” The words slipped out before he thought. He shouldn’t be flirting with her. She was grieving. He didn’t know if she had a boyfriend. But if she did, he surely wouldn’t have left her alone this long, would he?
    She pulled the napkin out and tucked it under her plate. She sighed and he couldn’t help but notice the rise and fall of her chest. To