the
French toast tomorrow. How’s that for turning lemons into lemonade?”
The idea did cheer her a little. “Speaking of lemonade…the mix
we use tastes awful. Let’s get some lemons. Where I waitressed before, we made
tons on fresh lemonade.”
Jonah groaned. “Here we go.”
She smiled. She felt better, she realized. The café had done
that for her. All day she’d felt cheerful, energetic and useful. She was glad
Rosie had pushed her to try the French toast.
She had another idea. “I spotted a coffee grinder in the pantry
when I was looking for the sugar. Fresh-ground coffee would taste so much
better. Cheaper, too, in the long run, because you can control the grind.”
“This keeps up and I’ll have to track down Rusty’s diagnostic
unit and drive it back myself.”
She laughed, but she started a grocery list as they drove
toward town.
* * *
“I THINK I nailed it.” CJ held out another cup of coffee to
Jonah.
“You said that last time.” The woman had been trying out blends
since five and now his head buzzed and his stomach burned from all the
caffeine.
“But this is really it.”
Resistance seemed futile, so he took the cup, his fingers
brushing hers just enough to jolt his equipment the way the coffee had jolted
his brain.
He sipped the brew. It was full-bodied with a hint of mocha,
but he wasn’t about to give her any more to crow about. “It’s good.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Grinding the beans takes more time.”
“It’s so worth it.”
“Coffee is coffee to our customers. They want hot caffeine,
period.”
“We’ll test it. Let’s see if anyone notices.”
“No dropping hints now.”
“I swear.” She held up a hand.
“Or lingering looks. Or eyebrow shorthand.”
“Eyebrow shorthand?”
“Yeah. You talk with your eyebrows.” He cleared his throat.
“You have…uh…talkative eyebrows.”
“Talkative?”
“Yeah, like now. They’re half up, half down and curvy. Just
trust me. They talk.” He felt like an idiot saying so and noticing in the first
place.
“You want me to duct tape them?”
“If I have to keep you from cheating.”
“I won’t cheat. It’ll be a true test. We seem busier today,”
she said, nodding at the packed booths. “Do you think it’s the French
toast?”
“I think it’s the new waitress. The place is full of men. ” She looked so hot in short white pants and a
yellow top that shivered over her breasts that he wished she’d worn a full apron
again. And that pink smell was killing him.
“That can’t be it…can it?”
Absolutely. Before he said that, he
noticed the light in her eyes had faded. “Nah. You’re right. It’s gotta be the
toast.”
“Told you!” She beamed, then danced off, sashaying those hips
of hers. She had no idea how sexy she was. She acted friendly, not flirtatious,
but she had men hanging on her every word, tying up the booths forever, joking,
laughing, showing off.
Smiling, he absently sipped more coffee. Mocha notes…definitely....
The bell clanged and Evan walked in. Automatically, Jonah
scanned him for signs of inebriation. Steady stride…solid posture…clear gaze. Sober still. Ninety days this time. He knew
because he’d slipped into the back of the meeting to see him get his chip. He
was proud, but it was too soon to say so.
Evan took a counter stool.
“You hear back on that job?” Jonah had set him up with an
interview about a marketing job for a national home-improvement chain.
“Could you grill my eggs before you grill me?”
“Coffee?” CJ asked, holding out a mug, a carafe in her other
hand. She seemed to appear out of nowhere just in time to take an order or
refill a mug.
“Please.” He watched her pour. “You’re the new Darlene,
right?”
“Her name’s CJ,” Jonah said. “This is my brother, Evan.”
“I’m so glad to meet you!” She shook Evan’s hand vigorously.
“We love your toothpick sculptures. My daughter’s in your room.”
“She’s
French toast tomorrow. How’s that for turning lemons into lemonade?”
The idea did cheer her a little. “Speaking of lemonade…the mix
we use tastes awful. Let’s get some lemons. Where I waitressed before, we made
tons on fresh lemonade.”
Jonah groaned. “Here we go.”
She smiled. She felt better, she realized. The café had done
that for her. All day she’d felt cheerful, energetic and useful. She was glad
Rosie had pushed her to try the French toast.
She had another idea. “I spotted a coffee grinder in the pantry
when I was looking for the sugar. Fresh-ground coffee would taste so much
better. Cheaper, too, in the long run, because you can control the grind.”
“This keeps up and I’ll have to track down Rusty’s diagnostic
unit and drive it back myself.”
She laughed, but she started a grocery list as they drove
toward town.
* * *
“I THINK I nailed it.” CJ held out another cup of coffee to
Jonah.
“You said that last time.” The woman had been trying out blends
since five and now his head buzzed and his stomach burned from all the
caffeine.
“But this is really it.”
Resistance seemed futile, so he took the cup, his fingers
brushing hers just enough to jolt his equipment the way the coffee had jolted
his brain.
He sipped the brew. It was full-bodied with a hint of mocha,
but he wasn’t about to give her any more to crow about. “It’s good.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Grinding the beans takes more time.”
“It’s so worth it.”
“Coffee is coffee to our customers. They want hot caffeine,
period.”
“We’ll test it. Let’s see if anyone notices.”
“No dropping hints now.”
“I swear.” She held up a hand.
“Or lingering looks. Or eyebrow shorthand.”
“Eyebrow shorthand?”
“Yeah. You talk with your eyebrows.” He cleared his throat.
“You have…uh…talkative eyebrows.”
“Talkative?”
“Yeah, like now. They’re half up, half down and curvy. Just
trust me. They talk.” He felt like an idiot saying so and noticing in the first
place.
“You want me to duct tape them?”
“If I have to keep you from cheating.”
“I won’t cheat. It’ll be a true test. We seem busier today,”
she said, nodding at the packed booths. “Do you think it’s the French
toast?”
“I think it’s the new waitress. The place is full of men. ” She looked so hot in short white pants and a
yellow top that shivered over her breasts that he wished she’d worn a full apron
again. And that pink smell was killing him.
“That can’t be it…can it?”
Absolutely. Before he said that, he
noticed the light in her eyes had faded. “Nah. You’re right. It’s gotta be the
toast.”
“Told you!” She beamed, then danced off, sashaying those hips
of hers. She had no idea how sexy she was. She acted friendly, not flirtatious,
but she had men hanging on her every word, tying up the booths forever, joking,
laughing, showing off.
Smiling, he absently sipped more coffee. Mocha notes…definitely....
The bell clanged and Evan walked in. Automatically, Jonah
scanned him for signs of inebriation. Steady stride…solid posture…clear gaze. Sober still. Ninety days this time. He knew
because he’d slipped into the back of the meeting to see him get his chip. He
was proud, but it was too soon to say so.
Evan took a counter stool.
“You hear back on that job?” Jonah had set him up with an
interview about a marketing job for a national home-improvement chain.
“Could you grill my eggs before you grill me?”
“Coffee?” CJ asked, holding out a mug, a carafe in her other
hand. She seemed to appear out of nowhere just in time to take an order or
refill a mug.
“Please.” He watched her pour. “You’re the new Darlene,
right?”
“Her name’s CJ,” Jonah said. “This is my brother, Evan.”
“I’m so glad to meet you!” She shook Evan’s hand vigorously.
“We love your toothpick sculptures. My daughter’s in your room.”
“She’s
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