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Piper

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I scan the inside of the diner until I spot a familiar face. I head toward the counter and the one empty stool next to it.

“I thought you were the one who slid this free breakfast coupon under my door this morning,” I say to Jo as she places a white ceramic mug filled with coffee in front of me. “Is this thing even real?”

I wave the pink sticky note attached to a white envelope at her.

I spotted it as soon as I walked out of my bedroom less than an hour ago. It was impossible not to see it on the floor near my apartment door.

My first name was scribbled across the sticky and inside the envelope was a small rectangular piece of paper. There were only two things handwritten on it with blue ink, an address to this diner and Free Breakfast Before Noon.

I showered before I dressed in jeans, a light green sweater and black ankle boots. When I left my apartment, I knocked on Jo’s door. I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t answer since I saw a stack of pink sticky notes on her coffee table last night.

“If the owner of this dive says it’s real, it’s real.” She reaches for a silver carafe. “This is cream. It’s the real stuff. Do you want one splash or two?”

“One.” I inch to the left to grab a single packet of white sugar from a small bowl. “Will you thank the owner for me?”

“You just thanked her yourself.”

My head whips up. “What? You own this place?”

“Crispy Biscuit is all mine.” She slides a paper napkin with the diner’s name printed on it toward me. “If you’re ever looking for me and I’m not at home, I’ll be here.”

I take a minute to soak in the décor of the small eatery. There are at least a dozen tables, some crowded with people sitting on wooden chairs. Several booths line the wall of windows that overlooks the sidewalk. They’re all occupied too.

There are no unnecessary, over-the-top design choices. The walls are painted white. The floor is covered by a checkerboard pattern of black and white tiles. It’s a quintessential New York City diner.

“I already love this place.” I turn back to Jo. “What do you recommend for breakfast?”

A redheaded woman dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt with Crispy Biscuit written in pink lettering across her chest approaches from the left. She tucks a small pad of paper and a pen in the white half-apron tied around her waist. “I need an order of three scrambled egg whites with no salt or pepper and a half slice of grain bread, not toasted and no butter. Fire up a hangover special to go with that.”

“A bland scramble with grain bread?” Jo peers into the packed diner. “I only know one person who orders that. Where’s my Lana?”

I turn to look in the direction of Jo’s gaze.  I immediately spot a woman with her arm in the air waving enthusiastically. She’s pretty, blonde and smiling broadly. That has to be Lana. Just as I’m about to turn back to ask Jo who she is, another hand darts into the air next to Lana’s.

I squint, sure that my eyes are playing tricks on me. They’re not. A grinning Griffin Kent is staring at me from across the diner and I can’t look away.

***

I glance down at the bagel that Jo plopped in front of me before she took off to talk to Lana. She didn’t offer any explanation about who the woman is, but judging by the tight embrace they shared when she practically ran over to Lana and Griffin’s table, I’d say they’re close.

As tempted as I was to take the toasted bagel and side of cream cheese to go, I didn’t. Jo told me to stay put because she wants me to try the special of the day. I told her the bagel was more than enough but the frown on her face said it all.

“Of all the greasy spoons in this city, I walk into yours.”

I smile inwardly when I hear Griffin’s voice next to me. I haven’t glanced over at his table since he broke our stare when he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone so he could answer it.

I clear my throat as I turn to look up at him.

Jesus. Griffin Kent with a light beard and ruffled hair is going to be the star of every fantasy I have for a very long time.

He must have rolled out of bed with Lana to share breakfast for two at this place.

“It’s not mine,” I answer quietly. “My next door neighbor owns this place. She knows your... your friend.”

“My friend?” His face is unreadable. “You’re talking about Lana?”

I’ve never outright hated a name before, but if I never hear the name Lana again, I won’t complain. She’s the one he went to after I turned him down last night. I did this to myself so it makes perfect sense that karma brought me to this diner so I could come face-to-face with my regret.

I nod. “Do you two come here often?”

“Do you always blush when you’re jealous?”

I scrub my hand over my cheeks. I never blush. At least I don’t think I do. “I’m not blushing and I’m not jealous.”

“You’re both.” He leans his elbow on the counter. “How are your weekend plans with Rufus and Brenda coming together? Are you three still hitting up that art exhibit on Saturday?”

“Why?” I bite back with a sugary sweet grin. “Do you and Lana want to join us?”

His eyebrows rise. “The five of us on one date? As fun as that sounds, I’m not free on Saturday. I’m heading out of town for the day.”

“Work?” I ask as I steal a glance behind him at Jo and Lana before I turn my attention back to his face.

He stares at me for a beat, looking into my eyes. “No. It’s a personal trip.”

Even though I sense that he wants me to ask for more details, I don’t. We barely know each other, and besides, he’s on a breakfast date with someone else. “I’ll be discussing the exhibit in class on Monday night, so you’ll hear all about it then.”

“I can’t wait.” He leans in to lower his voice. “It’s always a pleasure seeing you, Piper. Always a pleasure.”

The last word hangs in the air between us as he walks back to his table and the woman I have no right to envy, but I do.