seated ahead of a couple of other waiting parties. Glasses of soda appeared almost instantly, as if Wes had a list here of things he liked, and they were just brought over without him having to order them.
The chaos died down, but a basket of French fries and a tray of sliders arrived before a waitress did. Wes glanced up at the woman who’d brought them, his smile wide and genuine. “Thanks, Hillie.”
“Anything for you, Wesley.”
Molly watched her walk away, a measure of shock flowing through her for how obvious the middle-aged woman had been with her flirting. She met Hunter’s eye, who quickly switched his gaze to his uncle.
“Wesley?” he asked. “Who’s Hillie?”
Wes grabbed a couple of fries and bit off the tops of them. “She’s an old friend.”
“Sounds scandalous,” Molly said pointedly.
“Yeah, Dad,” Michael said, reaching for a fistful of fries too. “Scandalous.”
Wes looked at his son, plenty of surprise on his face. “Listen to you. Do you even know what scandalous means?”
“It means something offensive or wrong,” Michael said, shooting a glance at Hunter. Wes saw it; Molly did too.
“Someone has been giving my son crossword puzzles,” Wes said.
Hunter held up both hands. “Someone told me to kiss as many girls as possible.” He glanced at Molly. Wes did too.
“Yes, well, it’s still good advice,” Wes said, putting the other half of the French fries in his mouth. “That goes for you too, Mikey. Kiss lots of girls so you know what you like.” He grinned at his son and then Molly. “I don’t regret giving that advice.”
Everyone laughed, including Molly, but when the sound died down this time, an awkward silence covered the table. Wes said, “Hillie’s who I bought this place for,” he said, almost under his breath.
Hunter opened his mouth, but he didn’t say anything. Molly’s shock cascaded through her in waves, because she didn’t understand the life of a billionaire. She dropped her head and shot a glance at Hunter out of the corner of her eye.
A waitress appeared, and the mood evened. They put in their milkshake orders, and Wes started the food ordering with, “I’ll have the Double Hammond, please.”
Molly couldn’t pick the menu up fast enough. Sure enough, right there at the top of the laminated page, with two stars next to it, sat the Double Hammond burger. Two all-beef patties, cheddar cheese, caramelized onions, lettuce, tomato, special sauce, and a fried egg.
The two stars indicated that it was a house special and a customer favorite. Molly scanned the rest of the burgers, and none of them had stars next to them.
There was a Hammond chef salad and a Hammond plate of fries, which were covered with cheese and bacon and served with a side of ranch dressing.
Molly tilted the stiff page toward Hunter. “Did you know your last name is on several menu items?”
“I haven’t been here in years,” he said. When it was his turn to order, he also ordered the Double Hammond as well as the Hammond fries.
Molly decided to go all-in with the family, and she ordered the Hammond chef salad and her own plate of Hammond fries. “Is there some sort of Hammond drink too?” she asked, handing the waitress the menu.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I’ll bring you one.” She popped her gum and skipped away—really skipped—before Molly could ask what was in the Hammond drink.
She looked across the table to Wes, who simply raised both hands in a gesture of Whatcha gonna do?
“So lemme get this straight,” Hunter said. “You bought this restaurant and gave it to Hillie, so now everything’s named after you and when you come, you get treated like a celebrity.”
Wes just grinned at his nephew. “Have you talked to Laura again?”
“Yes,” Hunter said, and Molly’s attention flew to him. He hadn’t told her about another meeting with Laura.
He exchanged a glance with her, his anxiety obvious even before he shifted on the bench seat. “Just yesterday,” he said. “She showed me the stock packages for family who work at HMC.”
“Surely you get that whether you’re the CEO or in Lab Six,” Molly said, looking to Wes for confirmation.
He nodded, his gaze flicking between her and Hunter. “She’s right,” he said slowly. “How are you feeling, Hunter?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I know she wants me to take it, and yesterday, she said her son has passed officially. He’s the CFO at Myers and Sons, and he can’t give it up.”
“The grocery store?”
“Worldwide,” Hunter said. “Neither of her daughters want to