Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Who’d drive this truck around?”
“I would.”
She began swiping a cloth over the coffee machine. “By yourself?”
“Well, I might need a helper for parties. I bet Gemma would do it,” I said, naming my sixteen-year-old cousin. “She always works at Moe’s during the summer.”
“How much would the catering truck cost?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe around fifty grand?”
She stopped moving and blinked at me. “Fifty grand! We don’t have that kind of cash lying around.”
“I could apply for a loan,” I suggested.
She opened the register and began counting the cash. “That’s a lot of money to borrow. What happens if this venture doesn’t work out? How will you pay it back?”
“I haven’t thought about that,” I admitted. “I guess I’d have to sell the truck.”
“I don’t know, Ari. I remember how devastated you were when you came home from New York after things didn’t work out there. You barely got out of bed for a month.”
I shook my head. “This wouldn’t be like that.”
“But it’s a risk. And it could fail and leave you and the diner worse off.”
“You think I’ll fail?” My stomach turned over.
She shut the register drawer, paused for a moment, then turned to look at me. “Of course not. I’m sorry, darling. I don’t mean to shoot down your ideas. I’m worried about your dad and the business and just feeling a little overwhelmed after being gone for ten days.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Forget I asked. It could be a terrible idea.”
She touched my shoulder. “Give me a chance to catch up a little and talk to Dad, okay? Maybe we can work something out.”
The door to the kitchen swung open, and my father appeared, rubbing that sore shoulder. “Judy?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Do we have any Advil here?”
She put her rag down and moved toward him. “Yes, in my purse. I’ll find it for you. And then I’m taking you home.”
“But—”
“No arguments, Dad.” Under the diner’s bright lights, I could see the pallor beneath his tan. “Do what Mom says.”
He jerked a thumb at me and addressed my mom. “Look who’s the boss now.”
“That’s right.” I folded my arms over my chest. “I’ve been the boss for ten days, and I’m going to stay the boss for one more. You’re fired. Go home.”
My dad chuckled as my mom put an arm around him, shepherding him back toward the kitchen.
I stood there for another minute or two, fidgeting with the hem of my apron and thinking about what my mother had said. That’s a lot of money to borrow. What happens if this venture doesn’t work out? How will you pay it back?
When the kitchen door swung open again, my mother looked at me with surprise. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing. I was just—I’m really worried about Dad.”
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll get him all tucked into bed and come back shortly.”
“Okay, but don’t mention anything to Dad about the food truck idea, okay? I get it—it’s just not the time.”
“I won’t say a word,” she said, pretending to zip her lips. “Now what do you say we get some specials on the board? Got anything new to add this morning? One of your fancy French toast recipes?”
“No.” I opened the drawer and reached for the chalk and eraser. “We can just stick to the old favorites today.”
After my shift, I went out to my car and texted Dash.
Hey, I brought up the food truck idea to my mom and she doesn’t think it’s the right time. We don’t have to drive all the way down to Etoile next week.
Are you trying to get out of our dinner date?
No, but we could have a less expensive dinner around here. Or we can cook at home.
I don’t care about the money. I’ve got Bulge Bucks. And I still want to look at the truck.
Dash. There’s no point.
I have strong feelings about this, Ari. And you’re the one who said I shouldn’t keep burying them. We’re going.
LOL okay fine. Are you still coming over for dinner?
Yes. What movie are you torturing me with tonight?
I was thinking about Shakespeare in Love.
Is it sexy?
Actually, yes. It is.
Happy ending?
For you, always.
Then I will come.
And so will you.
Probably twice.
Laughing, I dropped my phone into my bag. My stomach, which had been aching all day, suddenly felt fine.
He always made me feel better.
For dinner, I decided to make spaghetti and meatballs. While I cooked, I told him about the conversation with my mom.
“So she didn’t give it a hard no,” Dash said, slicing cucumbers for salads.
“I guess not. We sort of agreed to table it for now, until we know what’s going on with my dad. Something definitely seems off with him, and I don’t want to add to his stress level.”
Dash glanced at me. “I thought it was just his back.”
“Now his shoulder hurts too. And he doesn’t seem to have much energy. His color is bad. My mom is trying to get him to see his doctor, but he never wants to go.”