That means I’ve worked my shift and all of hers. I’m past the point of caffeine giving me a boost. I’m exhausted and my feet are aching. It’s not just my body that’s tired, however. My brain is mostly mush at this point. No one should have to work in this diner from seven in the morning till midnight.
If there’s one saving grace, it’s that we don’t get much business this time of night. The owner likes to keep us open until midnight to serve the paramedics when they get off work from their shift change. Tonight, they’ve all come and gone—leaving the diner empty. Well, except for me and Joe—one of the line cooks. After being here for over twelve hours, the lull has only made me more aware of how achy my feet are.
I’ve spent most of the night looking forward to going home and being alone—with all my roses. My dad went out of town on a fishing trip with friends. It’s rare for him to do anything but work. I have thought of Callan all night. I’m looking so forward to seeing him again. I shouldn’t be, but I really am.
I don’t know why I’m even allowing myself to get close to him. The more I think about it, the more I know we don’t fit into each other’s world. I’m miserable in the circles he moves in. I have a hard enough time trying for Emilia. I need to remind myself that this can’t go anywhere. It’s just one date for lunch. That’s it and even if I wanted more, it just can’t happen.
I look up when the door opens. Callan walks into the diner as if he knows I was thinking about him. His crooked smile has my heart racing. I try my best to hide the fact I’ve been thinking about him again.
“Are you stalking me?” I ask, pretty sure that we’ve had this discussion before.
“Believe it or not, this time, I will definitely say yes,” he says. His deep voice sends shivers down my back.
“Should I be worried?” I ask, quirking my eyebrow.
“I would never hurt you.”
The unspoken promise and tone of his voice, added with the way he keeps staring at me, fills me with this electrical charge—making heat roll through my body. My gaze moves over him, taking him in. God. It should be against the law for a man to look this good. Tonight, he’s dressed more casually in a blue cashmere sweater and gray slacks. I never thought a man in a sweater would make me feel hot all over. I was wrong. So wrong. The light blue contrasts nicely with his dark features and sun-kissed skin. Being next to him in a t-shirt with the diner logo and jeans on while he looks like a movie star, makes me feel like a ragamuffin. I run a hand over my flat hair feeling all the flyaway strands that’ve come out of my ponytail during my shift.
“What would you like to order?” I ask, not needing to pull out my notebook. I’ll yell it out to Joe.
“Coffee, and if you have any of your pies left, I won’t complain,” Callan says playfully.
“You’re in luck,” I laugh. “We have some chocolate crème pie left.”
“Perfect,” he says, taking a seat at the bar.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” I ask.
“Just black.”
I nod then pour him a cup of coffee and set a slice of pie in front of him. “Here you go. Of course, I’m not sure it’s smart to feed my stalker.” I let him settle in as I lean against the counter, watching him. I breathe in the scent of his cologne, and I have to fight not to close my eyes in pleasure.
“Confession time,” he says quietly after taking a bite of the pie. “I tried to have some things delivered to you today. The shop said no one was home. When they still couldn’t deliver again tonight, I got a little worried that something was wrong. Especially since it was after nine.”
“So, you came all the way to my work to see if I was okay?”
“Yeah.”
We both stare at each other as it sinks in. I don’t know what to say, so I purse my lips, thinking it over.
“What are you thinking?” Callan asks, watching me a second before going in for more pie.
“I’m leaning toward the possibility that you are insane,” I tell him.
“Zoe, I was worried about you. That’s it. You don’t know me, so I get why you would be cautious. Yet, I need you to know that I’d cut my arm off before I’d hurt you.”
“I imagine that’s what every serial killer would say while trying to lure their victims into imminent doom,” I respond with a nod.
“I can provide several references, including the police commissioner of Miami along with several judges and other attorneys, if you’d like,” Callan offers.
I wince. “I don’t know that I trust anyone in politics or a lawyer.”
“You know I’m an attorney, right?”
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” I tell him, making him laugh.
“I’m starting to realize that breaking through your walls is going to be the biggest battle I’ve ever faced,” Callan grumbles, shaking his head.
“I’m not sure I understand why you’re even bothering to.”
“I know you’re special.”
I shake my head vehemently. “You just don’t give up.”
“If the reward is you, I never will,” Callan says solemnly. “Where have you been all day?”
“Right here,” I tell him flatly.
“You’ve worked all day?”
“The other waitress was a no-show, and I’ve had to cover for her all week. I get tomorrow off, though, and with my father out of town, I plan on sleeping all day.”
“You’re too young to be working yourself to death like this,” he says, shaking his head.
“I get you probably don’t understand because you can afford to waste thousands of dollars sending innocent flowers to their death, but some people have to work to keep a roof over their head.”
“Now you’re jumping to conclusions. Just because I have money in the bank doesn’t mean I always have. I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am, Zoe. I wasn’t born into the life I have now. I even bussed tables at night while attending college during the day.”
His words hit me hard. Shame fills me as I realize I’ve been judging him from the beginning. I know I shouldn’t have. It just makes me uncomfortable that someone like Callan has been pursuing me so strongly. It just feels like there has to be a reason. I know I can’t be his normal type of woman.
“I’m sorry,” I confess softly. I don’t make excuses for it, and I don’t try to push it off because I’m actually sorry that I was being that judgmental when I hate when others do it to me.
“You can make it up to me,” Callan says, staring up at me thoughtfully.
“How?”
“I’ll let you know,” he says slowly, his smile stretching out. The mischievous glint in his eye tells me he will be letting me know soon.
Joe walks around the corner, wiping his hands on a towel before throwing it over his shoulder. He’s an older guy that tends to look grouchy all the time, but he’s a teddy bear of a man. Takes a while for him to show it. “Closing time,” he barks out.
“Oh, thank God!” I sigh happily.
Joe crosses his arms as he glares at Callan. “That means you need to go.”