“Who are you?”

Maya had walked through the back of the diner to find a man in his mid-twenties, wearing what looked like an expensive suit, waiting at the counter and nursing a cup of coffee. He got to his feet when he spotted her and straightened his jacket.

“Mrs. Brookes?” he asked, a slight frown marring his otherwise smooth brow.

“No, Miss,” she corrected him. “How can I help you Mr. ...?”

“Jacobs,” he said, holding out his hand, which she shook briefly. “Darryl Jacobs.” His gaze darted over her shoulder. “Umm, you’re a little younger than I’d expected. You are the owner of this establishment?”

“My parents are the owners, but I run the place now.”

“Perhaps I should talk to your parents, then.”

She squared her shoulders. “My father’s unwell, and the last thing my mother needs right now is some insurance sales guy bothering her. Whatever you want, you can go through me.”

Her authoritative tone threw him. “Oh, right. So you manage this place?”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, I’d like you to run through this with your parents, and I’ll need to speak with them directly at some point, though I understand if this isn’t a good time.”

Maya folded her arms across her chest. “Just tell me what you want, Mr. Jacobs.”

“It’s Darryl, please.”

She didn’t reply, waiting for him to get on with it.

“Can we have a seat?”

She nodded to a corner booth and they sat opposite each other.

“Look, if this is more insurance,” she said, “we neither need nor can afford it.”

“It isn’t, I promise. I think this will be of great interest to you and your parents.”

The other waitress, Steph, was wiping the counter, trying to look busy, though Maya knew she was listening in.

“You can take your break now, Steph,” Maya called out. “I think we’ll be fine.” The only customer was old Mrs. Penright, who took about three hours to drink one cup of coffee.

Maya turned her attention to the man sitting across from her. “So tell me what this is about.”

He cleared his throat. “I work for the Riversford Corporation. Have you heard of them?”

She shook her head.

“They own a number of different chain companies, including Big Buns Burgers. I assume you’ve heard of them?”

“Of course.” He’d just named a chain of hamburger restaurants that were found all over the country. Something in her stomach began to swirl uneasily, and she wished she hadn’t drunk so much coffee earlier. “But why is someone from a big corporation interested in Brooke’s Grill?”

“Because we think this would be a great site for a brand new Big Buns Burger restaurant.” He said it with a flourish, as though he expected her to jump to her feet and start clapping.

Maya did neither of those things. “There’s already a restaurant here.”

Obviously realizing his announcement hadn’t quite gone down as he’d intended, Darryl cleared his throat. “Yes, well, of course we realize that, which is why we’re prepared to offer your parents a very generous sum in order to buy the diner from them. The offer includes a settlement for the property behind the diner as well. We have plans to link a motel to the restaurant.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale at the right price.”

“This place isn’t.”

“Now, Miss Brookes, that isn’t really your place to say, is it? You might manage the joint, but unless the property is in your name, you won’t actually be the one to make that decision.”

She leaned over the table. “Listen to me, asshole,” she hissed at him. “My father is sick and my mother is spending every hour available taking care of him. The last thing they need is this kind of bullshit dropped in their laps.”

He sat back and folded his arms. “No? If that’s the situation, I would have thought this was exactly the sort of thing they’d need. A good lump sum of cash and the stress of trying to keep a small town restaurant running removed.” He pushed an envelope across the table toward her, but when she reached out to take it, he slammed his hand back down on the paper. “You understand this isn’t for your eyes, don’t you? This is to be opened by the owners of this restaurant and no one else.”

She scowled. “Then why are you giving it to me?”

“To pass on, of course.”

A part of her wanted to throw it back in his face. How dare he come in here, making stupid offers and speaking down to her as though she were a child? Her face burned with anger. But something stopped her. What if what he’d said was correct? What if this was exactly what her parents needed right now? A get-out clause.

Though it killed her to do so, she took the envelope and slipped it into the large pocket on the front of her waitressing apron.

“Fine. I’ll give it to them, but don’t expect a positive answer.”

“I won’t.” He got to his feet and held his hand out to her. “Good to meet you,” his gaze flicked to the nametag she wore pinned to her shirt, “Maya.”

“I’d say likewise, but I’m not a good liar.”

And with that she turned away from him, leaving him standing there, his hand still outstretched.