Page 6 of Fade With Me

Just then, Sal’s unsavory face poked out from the half-open kitchen door. “Bryn, kitchen’s behind. We need you—now.”

I let out a heavy sigh, frustration flaring up inside me. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right there.”Guess I’ll just do it all, I thought bitterly. Sal’s too cheap to hire anyone else. He knows no one would put up with his crap for the scraps he pays me.

I spent the next few minutes helping him catch up, wiping down counters, restocking condiments, and making sure the coffee pots were ready for the rush, before finally making my way back into the dining area.

As I stepped through the swinging door, I spotted him—the stranger from yesterday, seated in the corner like he’d been coming here for years. His tailored suit clashed with the diner’s rustic charm, too polished, too precise, like he didn’t quite belong. And yet, somehow, right at home. I hadn’t expected to see him again, but there he was.

I walked over, heart fluttering, my smile too tight to feel natural. Still, I handed him the menu with what I hoped passed for poise. “Hello, sir,” I said, maybe a little too fast. “How are you today? Joining us for breakfast, I assume?”

His eyes sparked as he took the menu, his fingers brushing mine, just enough to make my breath catch.

“I’m doing good, thanks,” he said, a faint smile playing at the edge of his mouth. “Had some time this morning. Thought I’d treat myself.”

He ran a hand through his dark, curly hair. It was neatly swept back, but a few rebellious strands had escaped, slipping into his face like they refused to follow orders. Despite the brief tension in his shoulders, he kept his posture relaxed.

“I apologize for yesterday’s…” He paused, his smile flickering as he searched for the right word. “Abrupt departure. Wouldn’t want to leave a poor impression.”

He radiated confidence, charm carefully measured, every word designed to put me at ease. I tucked a loose curl behind my ear, hoping the familiar motion would settle the nerves fluttering in my chest.

“No need to apologize,” I said, trying to sound breezy. “I didn’t take offense.” I gave a quick wave of my hand, even though I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about him.

His eyes lit with relief as he placed a hand over his heart and let out a playful sigh. “Thank goodness that’s settled.” His gaze dipped to my name tag, then rose again. “So, Bryn, what’s the local favorite? What do you recommend?”

I hesitated, taken aback. Our kitchen wasn’t exactly known for its culinary brilliance. Might as well be blunt. No point getting his hopes up.

“To be honest, most of the food’s pretty awful. But the pancakes? They’re infamous.” I shot a quickglance atSleazySal, hovering by the counter like part of the décor. “Officially, they’re scrumptious, but between you and me…” I scrunched my nose. “They’re…not.”

He chuckled, low and warm, the sound rippling over my skin. His gaze lingered a moment as he handed back the menu, nodding once.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll have thescrumptiouspancakes and a cup of coffee, please.”

I took the menu with what I hoped looked like casual ease, though a smile tugged at my mouth before I could stop it.

“Okay, one order of pancakes,” I said, shaking my head with a soft breath. “Blueberry or chocolate-chip?”

He tilted his head, considering for a moment, then gave me a slow, teasing smile. “Surprise me.”

I had a feeling it would be a surprise, all right. A surprise if Larry, our one andonlycook, even remembered to flip them. He was probably more focused on his next smoke break than anything involving an actual stove. I turned to place the order, already bracing myself for whatever disaster would slide off that griddle and onto a plate.

I didn’t make it far. Just as I reached the swinging doors, Sal materialized in front of me, blocking the way like some kind of greasy troll. His glare zeroed in on the stranger, suspicion flaring in his eyes.

He folded his arms, planting his feet wide, like he thought sheer size might intimidate someone. “Who’sthe new guy?” he asked, his voice low and edged with warning.

My gaze followed his, drawn to the mysterious man like a moth to a flame. I had to tear my eyes away, forcing my attention back.

“No idea,” I said with a shrug, feigning indifference. But despite my attempt to act nonchalant, my fascination got the better of me, and I found myself sneaking another glance.

Sal’s voice tightened with resentment, his jaw clenching as he spoke. “He’s not exactly the type that fits in around here.” His gaze sharpened, and for a split second, something like envy flickered in his eyes. “He’s got a weird vibe.”

I studied him, thrown by his intensity. What was he even getting at? I fidgeted with my notepad, creasing the corners. “I don’t know…he just looks…put together.”

Sal’s eyes snapped back to me, narrowing like a predator honing in on its prey. “What’s that supposed to mean? You sayingI’mnot put-together?” He jabbed a thumb against his chest. “You saying he’s better than me?”

Annoyance flared in my chest. He was twisting everything—like always—and yes, I absolutely thought the stranger was better than him. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

I just blinked, let my irritation flash across my face, then rolled my eyes and stepped around him. Withoutanother word, I slipped into the kitchen to drop off the pancake order and grab a fresh carafe of coffee.

When I returned to the stranger’s table, I filled his mug and set the rest of the brew beside it. He added a packet of sugar, then examined his spoon, turning it over like it held some hidden flaw. His movements were precise, almost obsessive. He pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping the spoon’s head with a tenderness that struck me as…strange. His brow creased. He wiped it again.

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