Page 23 of The Disputed Legacy

My jaw dropped. “But you’ve been having them every?—”

He nodded with a wince. “Because you suggested them that first time. And you must have assumed I liked them enough that I’d want them every night.”

Feeling silly and sheepish now to have assumed anything about him, I stood straight and scowled.

“Just give me a burger or something else. Surprise me.”

“Saul.” I set my hand on the counter and leveled him a serious frown. “Why do you keep coming back here?”

“Why do you think?”

I rolled my eyes and wagged my finger. “It’s not going to happen.”

“What won’t?”

I ignored his playful tone. Deep down, I was flattered. I was excited that someone like him, rich and powerful, could be attracted to someone like me. There was no way I’d fit in his world or he’d stoop to belonging in mine. Crossing socio-economic barriers wasn’t happening here. As I wrote an order for a burger and fries then stuck it on the ticket wheel, I turned and faced him again.

Dammit. Does he always have to look so… hungry?

For me?

I wasn’t used to this feeling, this sensation of being so coveted and desired.

“I’m not available like that,” I said simply.

“Because of Oscar?” he asked.

I frowned, not liking the direction this was going. Yes, it was because of Oscar that I wouldn’t date men, but probably not for the reason he was thinking.

“I’m not available, Saul.” Repeating it seemed safest.

“I suppose I shouldn’t consider myself available either,” he replied, surprising me.

“Then why do you keep coming here every night to see me?”

“Maybe itwasthose chicken BLTs,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes again and hated how easily he tricked me into smiling.Whatever. Suit yourself.If he wanted to come here and waste his time trying to get me to give him attention, then he could.

I wouldn’t turn any customer down. And Saul was the best tipper I’d ever had.

Even for food he didn’t like.

Since it was slow again, and so close to closing, I ended up spending most of my night standing at the counter while he ate. It would’ve been a productive hour and a half of getting to know him, but he was cagey like that.

Then again, I was too. If I asked him direct questions about himself, he’d take it as a sign that he could ask them of me right back. And that wouldn’t do. I was just as secretive as he was, if not more.

“You’re not good at this getting-to-know-you stuff, are you?” he teased.

“Neither are you,” I replied.

Propping his chin in his hand, he sighed and stared at me. He was the last person in here, and I relished this privacy with him.

“We’ve all got our secrets,” he replied.

Clearly.And he was so good at keeping his that I was getting suspicious of what he could be hiding.

I wasn’t any better. I was hiding Oscar the best I could.