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My pulse skips twice.
Carter.
He’s sitting at the same table he sat at yesterday, right in the middle of my section.
I pinch my eyes closed. I shake my head, making sure I’m not seeing things, but he’s still there when I open them again.
He looks up and smiles as I approach his table. “Hey,” he greets.
“Hi,” I say. “Welcome back.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“When do you sleep?”
“When I’m dead.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I thought so.”
“Are you... grabbing some breakfast before hitting the road?” I ask, playing it cool.
“Actually, I just talked to the mechanic, and it looks like I am stuck in Small Town for another day.”
I adjust my expression, hoping it doesn’t look as thrilled about this news as I secretly — and surprisingly — am. “Really?” I ask.
“Something about the replacement part not actually being compatible with the model of my car or...” He turns up his hands. “I don’t know. I’m not a car guy.”
“Neither am I.”
“So, I thought I’d swing by here and let you know I need to book my room for another night.”
“All right,” I say, holding my breath to still my racing heart. “That’s fine. I will call Papa and let him know you’re coming back.”
“Thanks,” he says.
“Did the rich guy in Big City reschedule again?”
“He did, actually.”
“The world of mergers and acquisitions is more forgiving than I expected.”
“So it would seem.”
“Well, we will be happy to host you for another night, Mr. Cartwright.”
“Thank you, Ms. Michaelson.”
“Sorry,” I say, realizing I walked over empty-handed. “Do you need to see a menu?”
“Actually, I think I’ll just take the...” he picks up a small sign sitting on his table, “sausage and pancake plate,” he reads.
“That’s an excellent choice,” I say. “Coming right up.”
“When do you get off?”
I stop, nearly stumbling mid-step. “Huh?”
