Playing House

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Thanks, and have a wonderful day." I force a fake smile on my face. You cheap bastard.

It's another Tuesday lunch shift at Evan's Diner in uptown Charlotte. The place is packed with men and women of the business world. Bankers, lawyers, judges—the who's who, I guess. I look down at my $1.00 tip and sigh. At this rate, I'll never be able to afford cooking school.

My best friend and roommate, Lizzy, is in the section next to me. With her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, she is doing her best to charm a group of older lawyers. I smirk and shake my head. What she won't do for money. Whatever, it pays our rent.

"Excuse me, ma'am!" A woman waves her drink at me to get my attention. I push a stray curl behind my ear, put on a smile, and walk to her.

Evan's is a retro '50s-style diner, with black-and-white checked floors, red booths, and a long bar filled with our homemade baked goods. There is chrome everywhere. That must be what appeals to the business-types of Charlotte—a fun atmosphere to make them forget about the banking industry for at least an hour a day.

I sneak to the back office for a quick breather. I glance in the mirror and am shocked by how tired I look. I grab my purse, searching for some mascara and see the unopened envelope. The return address says Napa Valley Culinary Arts. It's one of three places I applied to, but the first to respond. The fact that it's obviously a one-page response suggests that they are not writing to welcome me with open arms and promising me all the financial aid I need.

"Dammit, don't be such a baby." I rip the envelope open. After skimming through the letter and having my fears confirmed, I tear it up into several pieces and toss it in a nearby garbage can. I find my mascara and do a quick touch up to brighten up my blue eyes. I straighten my blue and white shirt. Evan's uniforms remind me of a bowling alley.

I stare at my reflection. "You don't fit in with high society anyway. Napa Valley's just a bunch of snooty rich wine folks."

The little bell over the door rings. I return up front just in time to see Caleb Matthews, a top-notch lawyer, being seated in my section. This job does have its perks! Lizzy pouts at me, undressing Caleb with her eyes. The girls who work here always fight over who gets to wait on him. He's gorgeous—the tall, dark, and handsome type with black hair. His broad shoulders and athletic build show he takes care of himself, and the little five o'clock scruff he wears on his face gives the girls even more to talk about. It almost seems to be his way of being rebellious in the cookie-cutter world of lawyers.

I make my way to the table, carrying a black coffee. "Afternoon, Mr. Matthews." I place the coffee, along with four creamers and three sugars, in front of him.

Without acknowledging my presence, he rips open the sugar packets. He completely misses his coffee cup and pours sugar all over the table. "Shit!"

I grab some napkins and dust the sugar onto my hand. "Want your usual today?"

"What?" he snaps before muttering an apology. "My usual?" He peeks up at me with the greenest eyes, framed by thick, onyx black lashes. Wow.

"Yes, sir." I blush. "Turkey on whole wheat honey roll with every vegetable we have and mustard. Double meat and a Greek salad as your side." My cheeks are burning so hot I know they must be flaming red.

"I think I might eat here too much." He puckers his lips, running his thumb along his jawline. "Or are you stalking me, Miss...?"

"Hannah, sir."

Caleb grins. "Hannah. Yes, please, that sounds great. Well, unless there's something"—he picks up his coffee mug, thumb drumming the warm rim—"more appetizing you recommend?" He cocks his eyebrow before taking a sip.