meal. I’m just here to see you get it.” Not the most gracious reply, but Sam never complained about her service before, and her boss’s opinion was the only one that mattered to her right now. And if he objected to her attitude, she’d be leaving in a few weeks anyway. Maybe that was making her feel bold.
His dinner companion chuckled. “She told you, Ned.”
Ned flushed red.
“Yeah, not so quiet and shy, is she?” His friend shook his head with mirth.
“No, she’s not. Guess she’s just plain dumb.” Ned tugged her closer. “You know that’s what everyone says. That you’re just a little simple here.” He tapped his head right at the temple. “That true? You some retard? Maybe that explains your lack of manners?”
Heat surged through her at his insulting words. “And is that how you get your kicks?” She angled her head. “I mean, if I’m mentally deficient? Does giving a ‘retard’ a hard time make you feel like a man?”
His friend hooted and tossed back his head. “Bam! She got you there again!”
Darby twisted her wrist, trying to break free. Ned clung tighter than ever, his face flushing a purply red and his breathing falling even harder. “Well, aren’t you the smart one after all?”
“Ah, let her go,” Ned’s friend reprimanded. “You’re scaring her.”
Ned smiled and she knew that’s what he wanted. What would satisfy him. He was that rare breed of man that thrived on intimidation and fear.
“Let her go.”
She recognized the deep, cultured tones before she swung a look over her shoulder. Ah, hell. A shudder rippled through her. She didn’t need him to come to her rescue. She had the situation under control.
The diner quieted—a real feat considering the number of people talking and eating. The clank of glass and silverware stopped. Any moment Sam would poke his head out from the kitchen and then the shit would really hit the fan. He might not mind her less-than-friendly attitude with the customers, but it had never threatened the flow of business before. Sam was a businessman, hoping to retire in the next couple of years. Even he had his limits. She winced. She might be leaving town sooner than planned.
“It’s nothing,” she growled and motioned him away. “Go away. Sit back down. I’ll get to you in a minute.”
“He a friend of yours?” Ned demanded.
“No,” she replied. That much was true. She didn’t even know his name. “Just a customer. Now let me go. I have a job to do.”
He released her and rose to his feet, his chair falling back with a crash. “Who are you? You new to these parts? Don’t recall I’ve ever seen you before.”
“Who I am is unimportant.”
“Aw, Ned. Sit down.” Maggie arrived at Darby’s side to chastise. “No need to get your feathers ruffled. You haven’t even had dessert yet. We’ve got blueberry pie. On the house. I know it’s your favorite. You want whip cream?”
“Yeah, Ned, sit down and stop stirring trouble,” someone called out from across the diner.
The vein in Ned’s forehead throbbed. He glanced around, a wild look in his dark, moist eyes as he realized the tide was against him.
With a grunt, he dropped back down in his chair.
Maggie squeezed Darby’s arm and whispered for her ears alone. “Go on, honey. I’ll finish up at this table.”
Darby nodded jerkily, bitter resentment filling her throat. “I could have handled it,” she muttered as she passed the stranger, careful to keep a safe distance. He smelled good. Clean and piney like the outdoors.
She strode behind the counter and faced him as he reclaimed his stool. The normal sounds of a busy diner resumed as she reached for her pad. She stared down at the paper, intent on not meeting his stare. After yesterday, she knew the mistake that would be.
“What will you have tonight, sir?”
A heavy pause, and then, “I didn’t mean to upset you. You just looked like you could use some help.”
She breathed through her nose. “I’m not upset,” she said tightly. “Now. What will you have tonight, sir.” Keep it casual. Don’t engage.
A long moment passed until he finally answered her. “What’s good, Darby?” The question fell evenly, mildly, as if he spoke her name all the time. As if they were old friends in the midst of a conversation. Stupid name tag.
Her gaze snapped up. Too late, she was caught in the snare of his eyes. They weren’t quite glowing. Not like yesterday. But they were still that deep, mesmerizing indigo that