Page 10 of Hot Chicken

Sure, it’s not what I dreamed for myself. But truth be told, given my humble beginnings, I haven’t really allowed myself to dream. Until now, that is.

“Are you excited for the festival?” Jo asks.

“Am I? Oh, Jo. I’m going to win it this year. I can just feel it. That $25,000 grand prize is as good as mine. And then I’ll have enough to open a restaurant right in the middle of tourist row.” I’d heard through the grapevine that a local restaurant owner was moving inland and considering renting out the space. It was the perfect opportunity for me.

“I’m sure you’ve got it this year, Ellie. And you know you can count on me. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks. You know how much I appreciate you letting me set up shop here, don’t you? I never want you to think I wasn’t grateful for everything you’ve done for me and Pops.”

“You and your Pops are practically family.” Jo reaches over to squeeze my hand. “If anything ever happens…” Jo gets visibly choked up at the statement. I know what he’s trying to say. “You’ll never be alone, Ellie.”

“Oh, don’t. I’ll start crying, and then we’ll both be a mess.” I sniffle.

“Well, speaking of a mess.”

I look about the store, wondering what Jo’s referring to, and realize we’re the only two people here.

“That boy’s got it bad for you.”

“Who?”

“Matt.”

“Yeah, right.” I snort.

“I’ve got eyes, don’t I? There ain’t nobody in Candy Cane Key coming here for coffee. Nobody. They come for gas, or they come for your cooking. Nothing else. He’s crazy if he thinks we believed anything different this morning.”

I can’t help but laugh.

“What’s the story there?”

“There’s no story. He was a year ahead of me in school. Mr. Popular. You could usually find him slithering alongside Jennifer Jones.”

He raises his brow in understanding. “Jennifer Jones Hamilton, you mean.”

“Well, not back then.” Jenn had managed to marry one of the richest men in Candy Cane Key. Then she proceeded to drive him batty and took him to the cleaners when he wanted out. “How is it people like her always end up on top?”

“Depends on your definition of on top. Karma is a cruel bedfellow. Our life hasn’t been easy, but we lived it honestly and with gratitude.”

I pull out the little rock I painted with Jo years back and place it on the counter in front of us. A little frog wearing a crown sits atop a messy deep blue background.

“Good heavens. You still have that thing?”

“Of course I do. I rarely leave home without it.” Jo and I made gratitude rocks the summer my Grandma Joan died. He taught me to always be grateful, even for the things we couldn’t understand. That there was no room for good to enter your life if you weren’t grateful for what you already had.

He wraps an arm around me, squeezing me against him. “The guy that finally lands you is going to be one lucky bastard.”

“Awe, you should really consider writing for Hallmark.”

“Come on. When’s the last time you went out on a date?”

Giving his shoulder a shove, I blurt, “I date.” Well, not really. But Jo certainly doesn’t need to know that. I don’t have time or money for dating. That requires nice clothes and a backup plan if my date wants to go Dutch in this modern era. I stick to meeting men in a bar with my friend Charlene. She’s loud and overly flirty. The perfect wing-woman. The few sexual encounters I’ve had have been limited to tourists I know I’ll never see again. Not that any of those rendezvous were memorable.

I hate to admit it, but my most enjoyable sexual experiences have been my dreams of Matt. And now that he’s back, built and covered in ink, I may or may not have gone to sleep last night dreaming of tracing his artwork with my tongue.

Chapter 12

Ellie

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