“If you must know, I was with Sebastian Donovan last night. He walked me home.”
Grandpa continued to stare.
“Aren’t you going to give me grief for being out late with a man?” I challenged. “Where’s all the ‘Did you do something dirty’ talk now?”
He shook his head. “You can hang out with that man as late as you want. Nobody will give you grief about it.”
I frowned. “And why is that?”
“You know.”
I waited, expecting him to say something derogatory. When he didn’t, I looked at him in a new light. “Well, thank you for not saying anything nasty.”
“Why would I say something nasty?”
“You’re not known for holding your tongue on certain subjects.”
“Probably not,” he agreed. “That boy, though ... he’s been through enough. He’s harmless, and he’s always been a good customer. I think it’s good that you’re hanging around with him. It’s better than being alone.”
Grandfather could always take me by surprise, no matter how old I was. “Well ... great. I think we’ll be spending a lot of time together, so that will be good.”
“Uh-huh.” Grandpa shook his head and moved to the door. “Get up. You’re running late for work.”
That couldn’t be right. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, cringing when I realized he was right. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I can be ready for work in fifteen minutes.”
“You should’ve been ready for work fifteen minutes ago,” he pointed out.
“I overslept.” In the annals of lame excuses, that was right at the top.
“You might not oversleep if you went to bed at a reasonable hour — and stopped drinking when you have to work the next day. I know you’re going through a lot and have yet to come to grips with the way your life trajectory has changed, but you have to get it together. I’m willing to help you, but you have to be willing to help yourself.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’ve got it. There’s no need to be a pain.”
“Then don’t be late for work again. That’s the one thing I can’t stand.”
I already knew that. Oddly enough, he was lax on most rules. He was a stickler about washing our hands after using the restroom and showing up on time, but other than that he was pretty easygoing.
“I’m sorry.” I meant it. “It won’t happen again. I just ... it was a weird night.”
Grandpa arched an eyebrow. “Hunter?”
I couldn’t swallow the growl that escaped. “Will you stop asking that? He’s not the be all and end all of my world.”
“If you say so.” Grandpa was blasé as he moved through the door. “You have twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Then you have to take breakfast to David. He’s running the gas station today.”
I frowned. “You know I hate the gas station. We agreed when I came to work for you that I wasn’t doing shifts in the gas station.”
“We did agree on that.” He nodded perfunctorily, but I didn’t like the gleam in his eyes. “We also agreed you would be on time. Your punishment for being late on your third day is to keep your cousin fed all day while he does the job you hate.”
Ugh. Family. This is how it always went. “Fine.” I threw my hands in the air. “I’ll wait on David hand and foot today. I guess it’s better than listening to Uncle Brad’s conspiracy theories.”
“Oh, you’ll be doing that, too.” Grandpa’s smile spread so wide it threatened to swallow the bottom half of his face. “He watched a new documentary last night about how alien abductions and global warming were conceived by the same cabal to discredit certain politicians and he’s ready and raring to go. He called me before I went to bed last night to tell me. Do you know what I told him?”
I didn’t want to know. “I’m sure it was lovely.”
“I told him that you believed in alien abductions. He’s looking forward to a lively day of debate.”
I narrowed my eyes until they were nothing more than slits. “I hate you sometimes.”
“That’s what grandfathers are for. Now get moving. If you’re late, I’ll make you wash windshields during your breaks.”
I pushed myself out of bed and raced to the bathroom. “Fifteen minutes. Time me.”
THE MORNING SHIFT WAS ESPECIALLY brutal. It seemed every Shadow Hills denizen decided today was the day to have breakfast at the diner. Between waiting tables and running trays of food out to David — who lorded it over me that I was his servant for the day every time we were face to face — I was exhausted by the time the midmorning lull came around.
“Have some coffee,” Grandpa suggested as I leaned against the counter and watched him eat his second breakfast. He was like a hobbit. He had eight meals a day.
I frowned as I stared at the concoction on his plate. “Is that quiche?”
“Of course not. Like I eat quiche.”
“It looks like quiche.”
“It’s eggs, onions, and tomatoes all mixed together.”
“Like an omelet?”
“If it was an omelet, I would’ve said it was an omelet.”
And I thought I was the crabby one today. “Fine. It’s not an omelet.” I held up my hands in mock surrender. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he snapped. “Why do you assume something is wrong?”
Something was definitely wrong. His mood had shifted about thirty minutes earlier when Brad showed up to take over cooking duties. I wasn’t sure why, but I had a feeling it couldn’t possibly be innocent. Nothing the man did turned out to be innocent.
“Sorree.” I took a step back and looked to the door as it opened, grinning when I realized it was Sebastian. “I think I’ll focus on the customers instead so there won’t be any more invasive questions.”
“That would be great.” Grandpa’s tone was dry as he focused on his breakfast.
Rather than take a seat in the cafe, Sebastian planted himself next to Grandpa and gave his plate some serious side eye. “Is that quiche?”
Grandpa growled as I slashed my hand in front of my throat as a form of warning. Sebastian only grinned in response. He had no fear of my grandfather.
“Do you want something?” I asked Sebastian as I poured some coffee.
“Can I still have breakfast?” he asked hopefully.
“It’s after eleven,” Grandpa noted. “We only serve breakfast until eleven.”
“Yeah, but I really want breakfast.” Sebastian used his wheedling voice, which always made me laugh.
“You can have breakfast,” I offered. “Brad is cooking. He’ll do what I say as long as I listen to his alien nonsense.” Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure making Sebastian happy was worth it. “Or you could just have lunch.”
“I’ll have egg whites and an English muffin,” Sebastian countered, causing me to frown.
“Egg whites and an English muffin? That’s, like, the lamest breakfast ever.”