The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(32)
“Don’t you need my credit card?”
“This one’s on the house.” Leah wasn’t hiding her curiosity very well. “Graham asked for me to be nice to you, and he’s never personally referred anyone to us before. So I’m guessing you did more than just meet at his restaurant. He actively dislikes most of the people who come through his door.”
“I think he’s tired of having to drive me around,” Zoey said awkwardly, pushing her glasses up on her nose. One day, she would have a pair that didn’t slip, but first she needed a rental car. Still, it felt wrong to have these nice people think the wrong thing.
Leaving the keys on the desk between them, Zoey hesitated. “This is really nice of you, but you might not want to do me any favors. Full disclosure, I sort of attacked him, got us both arrested, and he might not be able to have children now because of me.”
Unconcerned, Leah’s grin just grew. She picked up the keys and placed them in Zoey’s hand.
“Bring it back with the tank full. Don’t worry about the scratch on the door; we know it’s there.”
The car they’d given her was a cute little SUV, and while it had a few marks on the outside and one deep gouge in the paint near the passenger side mirror, it was clean and smelled like fresh air, not air fresheners, when she climbed in.
The freedom of having her own vehicle left Zoey feeling like that fresh air was filling her with new life. Okay, so maybe the first day…two days…of her vacation had gone awry. But this was her dream trip.
She was going to make the most of it.
*
The day started so well. Then the customers showed up, and it all went to hell.
Being sore hadn’t helped, especially when it meant Graham couldn’t move as quickly as he wanted. And while he normally would have ripped through the lunch crowd by two and felt little to no remorse closing the doors until the dinner shift, for once, Graham stayed open, trying to get the line somewhere close to gone. Finally, he gave up and acknowledged that he was working a double shift. Or a full shift. Whatever.
He’d trained the town and the resort to not bother him between the hours of two and six, so it died down to a reasonable trickle by the time trouble in Jimmy Choos came walking through the door.
“What’s a dame like her doing in a place like this, Jake?”
The border collie at his feet whined.
Lana always looked like a million bucks. But when she walked into his diner this time, she was dressed a little closer to the actual number. The slump in her shoulders didn’t match the perfectly tailored, cream-colored jumpsuit and black designer heels. The man with her seemed more interested in talking on his phone in the corner of the diner than ordering, so she approached the counter alone.
“Sorry, L,” Graham said in greeting. “I can’t serve you anything today. I’ve seen what you do with the ketchup bottle, and I can’t afford the dry cleaning bills.”
Flapping a hand at him, Lana focused on the customer seated closest to where Graham worked.
“May I sit here when you’re done?” She asked politely, unaware of the effect of her thousand-watt smile on the poor fool. Lana waited patiently for him to decide if the comfort of a highly coveted seat at the counter was worth accommodating her request.
Apparently, it was. “Erm, yeah. Sure. I’m done anyway.”
Taking a napkin from the dispenser, Lana settled into the seat, delicately wiping residual crumbs from the previous occupant into a little pile.
“Is it time for the air horn?” she asked hopefully. “This place is starting to look hammered.”
“I’m not closing today. I’ll wipe things down in a minute.”
“You? Clean? Love, the day you lift a finger to do work you don’t have to is the day I renounce the family business and go bunk up with Zoey.”
“What’s wrong with bunking up with Zoey?”
“Absolutely nothing, which is why I would stay with her. Although she has a turtle. I’m not sure I can live in a house with a turtle.”
“It would be a travesty of epic proportions,” he murmured.
“You do know they carry salmonella.” Lana shuddered. “I’m not interested in a repeat of that particular experience. Once was more than enough.”
“The turtle’s named after a Renaissance artist, isn’t it?” When she raised a confused eyebrow at him, Graham shook his head. “Never mind. Hey, Lana? You and I need to talk. Something’s off with you. Since when do you bail on friends and not pick up your phone?”
Lana hummed playfully. “I’m in trouble. Be careful. I might like it.”
“I’m serious. What are you doing?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Sighing with feigned distress, Lana leaned against the bar. “What would you say if I bought the resort?”
“I’d say I’m packing my belongings and running north as fast as humanly possible. You don’t have the staying power for a business like that one, and by the time you were bored enough to sell it, my town would be ruined. Don’t. Buy. The resort.”
Graham held her eyes, trying to use his frown and all his nonexistent telewhatever powers to psychically influence the most dangerous person he knew.
With an actual sigh, Lana set her elbows on the bar and stared sightlessly at the wall behind him. She only pulled out of her head when Graham set a shot glass in front of her with a single fry in it. Then, because he genuinely liked her, no matter how much of a pain in the butt she was, he added a second one.