Max Hager was starving to death.
Okay, maybe not to death. That was a little dramatic, even for him. But as he pulled his truck into the parking lot of the Empty Plate Café in Granite, Texas, his stomach growled so loudly that he considered checking the backseat for a rabid dog.
He might’ve done so if he hadn’t already known what was back there. He’d tossed a small black suitcase behind his seat this morning after saying farewell to his family, and it had rattled against the door for the entire four-hour trip back home from Galveston. About drove him half-nuts. And since his overbearing parents had taken care of the other half during the past two weeks, that meant he was almost at his limit.
Sure, he could’ve stopped somewhere along the way and adjusted the suitcase to give his ears and jumbled nerves some much needed relief. But every time he’d considered the idea, the only places he found to pull over were fast food joints with drive-thru windows. As hungry as he was, he didn’t trust himself not to pull through one rather than waiting until he got back into town to eat.
If he had wanted something unhealthy, he would’ve eaten the calorie-laden breakfast his mother had offered him before he’d left. Fried eggs, grits slathered in butter, and bacon biscuits…with cheese. Because apparently consuming eight hundred calories at one meal wasn’t enough. Why not go for an even thousand?
Dear God. Just thinking about it had his arteries cringing.
He couldn’t believe he’d grown up eating that kind of stuff and actually lived to tell about it. It was like consuming an entire day’s worth of fat in one sitting. Which was exactly why he weighed over two hundred pounds by the time he’d entered junior high. And his weight had only ballooned upward from there.
Being an only child had been lonely enough without the added complication of being the heaviest kid in school. The constant harassment from his peers in the halls after class or in the boys’ locker room had been enough to make him want to quit school altogether. Thankfully, it had never come to that.
As an army brat, he had always hated being the new kid on the block and regretted not ever having that one special place to call home, but being the son of a brigadier general did occasionally have its perks. All he had to do back then was ignore the bullies long enough and his father would eventually end up receiving orders to some new faraway location. It was inevitable.
They moved from one military installation to another so often that Max had never really seen much of a point in unpacking…or making friends. Not that anyone had wanted to be his friend back then. When he was younger, his parents had been the only constants in his life. But after graduating high school, Max had decided he needed to grow the hell up and make some actual career plans.
So he’d entered trade school and signed on to an electrician’s training program, much to his father’s chagrin. Then, to make sure his mother was equally disappointed in him, Max had stayed behind in Texas as his parents moved on to his father’s next duty assignment without him.
Between working outdoors in the heat and not having his mom there to cook mostly unhealthy meals for him, Max had lost an entire pant size in just the first month of being on his own. Without even trying. That had only motivated him to make more changes in his life. Bigger ones.
He’d joined a local gym, hired a personal trainer, and started following a strict diet and exercise regimen that had him shedding pounds as quickly as sloughing off dead skin cells in the shower. As strange as it was, losing weight was the easy part for him. Of course that probably had something to do with being so young at the time.
Too bad that was no longer the case.
Max wasn’t eighteen anymore, and his thirty-two-year-old body didn’t work in quite the same way. Over the years, he’d built a muscular physique, one he was damn proud of. Every cut and bulge was worth the hours he’d spent in the gym perfecting them. But the hard part now was keeping the excess weight off. Unfortunately, it was a daily challenge.
Each time he veered from his diet plan, even just the slightest, he gained weight back and had to work extra hard to take it off again. Especially whenever he’d go to his parents’ house for a visit. Maybe most grown men couldn’t wait to get one of their mom’s home-cooked meals—the ones they had been accustomed to while growing up—but not Max. He couldn’t eat like that anymore without suffering the consequences.
His parents, however, hadn’t adopted his healthier eating habits. They just didn’t get it. Unlike him, they ate red meat at nearly every meal, loaded up on unhealthy carbs, fried everything in oil, and added gobs of cheese or butter to whatever was on their plates. Basically, they ate the same way they always had.
Which meant Max didn’t visit them often. Only once or twice a year. The last thing he’d wanted to do was be an inconvenience. He didn’t want to put his mother out by asking her to prepare two separate meals. And he couldn’t cook to save his own life. So he’d spent the last two weeks living off of bagged salads, fresh fruits, raw vegetables, and protein shakes…all the while feeling like he was slowly starving to death. It had been miserable.
That was exactly why he couldn’t wait to get back into town. Max needed a hot meal or he was going to crack up at any moment. Unrelenting hunger did that to a guy. He’d been longing for some real food—something satisfying that would fill his belly and warm him from the inside out—and couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into today’s special over at the Empty Plate Café. Now that he was finally home, he could. Thank God.
As usual the parking lot was packed with vehicles, so Max found an available spot around the back. The sizable, bluish-gray building was in desperate need of repairs and a fresh coat of paint, but this place had been the local hangout for the past forty years. Not that Max had witnessed that personally or anything. He hadn’t even been born when the restaurant first opened, much less lived in Granite. Hell, back then, he’d still been a twinkle in his dad’s eye.
But that didn’t stop him from enjoying it to the fullest now.
Max headed inside the restaurant, barely noticing the familiar ding of the door chime as he entered. As usual, he expected to see patrons milling about the room with the dull roar of conversation in the background. But instead, only silence greeted him, which had him coming to a dead stop just inside the doorway.
He’d been eating at this place for the past ten years straight, and not once had he ever seen it so desolate. Instead of calling it the Empty Plate Café, maybe the name should be changed to the Empty Café. Because at the moment, other than him, there was no one else there.
“Hey, anyone around?”
The restaurant owner, an elderly gentleman with a full head of white hair, stuck his head out of the kitchen door. “Hey, Max. Good to see you back. Did you have a nice visit with your parents?”
Max smiled at the kind, old man everyone in town lovingly referred to as Pops. “Yeah, Pops, I did. But I’m ready to get back to my regularly scheduled programs.” Max glanced around the empty room once more before letting his gaze shift back to the man in front of him. “Um, so what’s up?”
Pops shrugged. “Not much. What’s up with you?”
Max shook his head. “No, I mean, where is everyone?”
“You mean what happened to all the customers?” When Max nodded, Pops gestured to the room around him, “Well, as you can see, business has been a little slow lately.”
“A little? This place is dead. There’s no one here.”
Pops grinned. “You are.”
“Yeah, but your place has always been busy as hell. Where did everyone go?”
“Gone.”
“What do you mean ‘gone’? You have a shit load of cars outside. What did they do—park here and run for the hills?”
“Not really. More like they left their vehicle here and sprinted over to the park across the street.”
Confusion swept through Max. “I don’t get it. Why would they do that? Is there a marathon or something going on today?”
“You haven’t heard?” Pops waited until Max shook his head before continuing. “Hmm, I guess you must’ve already left on your vacation before it happened.”
“Before what happened?”
Pops sighed heavily. “A new food truck pulled into town last week.”
“So?”
“So it’s been parking across the street in that small lot next to Windsor Park. Ever since it showed up, business over here has been slow. It’s been this way all week and only gets worse every day.”
“Well, go over there and tell that idiot to move the truck.”
“I can’t. It’s not like they’re parked at my restaurant. And I don’t own the street or the park. That’s all public property.”
“But those customers are using your lot. You could have their cars towed, ya know?”
“And alienate everyone in town? Come on, Max. You know I can’t do that. A lot of these people are my longtime friends and neighbors. Besides, they would never come back here to eat if I had their vehicles towed away.”
“Some friends and neighbors,” Max said, gritting his teeth. “Sounds more like a bunch of traitors.”
“Yeah, maybe. But it’s not like I can tell them where to spend their hard-earned money.”
“Well, you have to do something. You can’t possibly take this lying down. That jerk across the street is stealing your customers.”
Pops shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It would be no different if a new restaurant opened across the street and took some of my business.”
“But they aren’t taking some of your business. They’re taking all of it. Pops, there’s no way you can make a living this way.”
“I know,” Pops said, expelling a hard breath. “And as unfortunate as the timing is, I recently made some bad financial decisions that are making this even rougher on me. I have no savings to count on during rainy days, and from the looks of things, it’s going to be one hell of a storm. I hate to say it, but I won’t be able to ride it out. If something doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to have to close down.”
The bottom fell out of Max’s stomach. “What? You can’t do that.”
“Sorry, Max. But I’m already losing hundreds of dollars a day, and I can’t afford to keep this place going if I’m not making money. I won’t be able to pay my vendors, and the last thing I need at my age is to take on a huge amount of debt. I’ve got just enough to keep me in business until the end of the month, but after that…well, I just won’t be able to do it anymore. I’ll have to shut down for good.”
Max ran a hand through his hair. “God, Pops. I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do…”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Pops shook his head. “But there’s nothing anyone can really do about it. This is just how life works. You win some, you lose some.” The old guy straightened his shoulders and proudly held his head up high. “Now tell me what I can get for you. I have to take care of my loyal customers while I still have them.”
Though it wasn’t heartfelt, Max tried to smile. “I’ll have the special.”
“You got it. One special coming up,” Pops said, nodding and heading for the kitchen.
Max leaned back in his chair and stared out the window, glaring at the park across the street. There were too many trees blocking the view for him to see the food truck itself, but he noticed the long line of customers standing in formation along the sidewalk, the scattered crowd sitting around picnic tables eating, and the people traveling to and from the park via Pops’ parking lot. And every bit of it burned his ass.
When Max had first moved to Granite ten years ago, he’d been determined to find a restaurant in town where he could eat a quick, healthy lunch without having to make it himself. So he’d stopped into this very café to look over the menu. After one glance, he’d frowned and headed for the door. Pops had been a stranger to him at the time, but he’d met him there with a frown of his own and asked why Max hadn’t ordered lunch. Max hesitated to tell him the truth since his move to this town had been all about giving him a fresh new start in a place where no one knew about his past and his issues with food. But something about this man had assured Max that Pops was someone he could trust.
So Max took a chance and had whispered to Pops about the strict diet he was on and how it wouldn’t allow him to eat anything listed on the menu. Rubbing at his chin, Pops had rocked back on his heels, taking a moment to think about what Max had just said. Then, with a sly wink, he’d suggested Max order “the special” whenever he came in and promised to make sure it would be diet-friendly…and kept strictly between them.
From that day forward, the kind old man had lived up to his word.
Not only that, but when Sam had moved to town and started up his construction business, Pops had been the one to put a good word in for Max. Now Max handled all of Sam’s electrical work, which had tripled his income and given him steady work, and they had become best friends.
Max owed Pops a lot.
But that was just the kind of guy Pops was. He was a great friend to everyone in town and a decent person who worked hard to make a good living. What kind of insensitive asshole would take business away from an old man? A real jackass, that’s who.
“Hey,” someone said from the door.
Max twisted his neck to see his best friend weaving around a table and crossing the room to join him. “About damn time you showed up. You’re late. I told you to meet me here at noon.”
Sam slid into the seat across from Max, pulled up his right sleeve, and glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “It’s only fifteen after. Couldn’t be helped. I got hung up on the job site.”
“By who—your wife?”
Sam grinned. “Just because I let Leah seduce me in the construction trailer one time doesn’t mean that every time I’m late I’m off with her having sex somewhere.”
“Maybe I should remind you that you bailed on me for lunch three times last month because you went home for a nooner.”
“That wasn’t my fault. Leah lured me there with the promise of two things: a chocolate dessert and her being naked by the time I got there.”
Max chuckled. “The woman sure knows your weaknesses.”
“No doubt,” Sam agreed. “But she’s not the reason I’m late. At least not this time. She’s busy over at the bakery today. She’s been training a new girl ever since Valerie started working full-time at the bar with Logan. This time my holdup was actually work-related.”
“What’s the problem?”
“That dumbass plumber I hired broke another pipe, and we had to shut off the main water supply before I left the construction site. It’s the third time this week he’s done that.”
“Jesus, man. You were having problems with him before I left for vacation. Why don’t you just fire the guy already?”
Sam sighed. “Because I’m a sucker, that’s why. One more incident and I’m going to find another plumber to bid this damn job and finish it for me.”
“Yeah, sure. You said that two weeks ago.”
Pops came out of the back with a glass of water in one hand and a plate of food in the other. “Hey, Sam. Good to see ya.”
“How are you, Pops?”
“I can’t complain.” Pops set the glass of water down on the table and slid the plate in front of Max. Then he looked at Sam. “What can I get for you today?”
Sam glanced over and eyeballed Max’s plate, which held a grilled chicken breast, a baked sweet potato, whole green beans, and a side of fruit salad. “What are you having?”
“What I always order. The special,” Max replied, grinning.
“I’ll have one of those too with a glass of sweet tea.”
Pops shook his head. “Sorry, Sam. I’m all out of the special today. You’ll have to order something else.”
Sam glanced around the empty restaurant, and his brows drew together in confusion. “Okay, well then I guess I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries.”
“Coming right up,” Pops said with a nod before heading back to the kitchen.
Sam’s brow rose as he turned his attention onto Max. “You know, in the past whenever I’ve tried to order the special and there’s none left, the restaurant has always been packed. This time, there’s no one here and there’s still none left. I’m starting to wonder if Pops just doesn’t like me.”
“Maybe.” Max shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just special.”
Sam groaned. “I think I’ll stick with the theory that Pops doesn’t like me. Seems more logical somehow.”
Max laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.”
A few minutes later, Pops delivered Sam’s cheeseburger along with the side of greasy fries and glass of iced sweet tea that Sam had ordered. “You want dessert today, Sam?”
“No thanks,” he replied, digging into his lunch.
Unfazed, Pops nodded and went on his way, but Max sat there staring at his friend in surprise. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Since when do you ever turn down dessert?”
Sam finished chewing a bite of his burger and swallowed. “I don’t. But I’m saving up a little room for tonight. Leah promised to make me a chocolate truffle cheesecake, and I plan on eating the whole damn thing in one sitting…after she gets herself a slice, of course. I’m a gentleman like that.”
Max shook his head but didn’t even bother to ask Sam if he was kidding. The guy rarely joked when it came to his wife’s desserts. After all, she was the owner of Sweets n’ Treats, a popular local bakery. And judging by the way Leah’s cheeks pinked up every time Sam walked into the same room, the baked goods she created weren’t the only thing Sam was insatiable about.
For a few moments, they ate in silence. Sam practically inhaled his food like a starving lion while Max picked at his like a baby bird learning how to eat. He had been hungry when he’d first arrived, but after hearing the news about Pops possibly having to close down, he didn’t really have much of an appetite anymore.
The moment Sam finished, he wiped his mouth and rose from his chair. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and tossed a few bills on the table to cover his meal. “All right, buddy. Sorry to run off, but I have to get back to work. I need to see if that idiot fixed that busted pipe yet. See you here tomorrow?”
Max nodded. They always ate lunch at the Empty Plate. “Yeah. Do you need me to come back early? I wasn’t supposed to start back until tomorrow, but I can go in today if you need a hand with something.”
“Nah. Take the day off. You can start doing all the wiring on the house tomorrow afternoon like we’d planned. The last thing I need is for you to be playing with electricity while that good-for-nothing plumber is busting waterlines all over the place. Someone could get electrocuted.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be me. I’m a master electrician for a reason. I know what the hell I’m doing.”
“True, but chances are good that it would end up being me who gets electrocuted. I already scared the hell out of Leah once by getting shocked. I don’t need to do it again.” Sam grinned and headed for the door. “Thanks, Pops,” he called out.
“No problem, Sam. See ya tomorrow,” Pops yelled from the back room.
Max painstakingly finished the rest of his meal and then pushed his empty plate away. He rubbed at his content belly and sighed. The entire time he’d spent with his parents, he couldn’t wait to get back to eat at the café. Now, there was a good chance that Pops would be closing down for good.
Max didn’t know what he would do if that happened. It was bad enough that whenever he shopped for groceries and made himself a basic meal, he struggled with cravings and portion control. If it wasn’t for Pops cooking him a healthy lunch every day, he would be back to eating bagged salads. Jesus. He couldn’t live on that rabbit food for the rest of his life. If it hadn’t been for Pops feeding him every day, Max had no doubt that he would’ve eventually gained some, if not all, of his weight back. Damn it, he needed him.
Ten minutes went by before Pops came back out to grab the two empty plates left on the table. But Max barely noticed because he was still staring out the window and stewing over the newcomer across the street who was screwing his good friend out of business. The whole thing just pissed him off.
He wished like hell that the old city health inspector hadn’t resigned and moved away. The guy still owed him a favor, and Max would’ve definitely called it in to get the food truck removed from the area. Surely the guy running the food truck had made some small infraction that the health inspector could’ve called him out on.
But it didn’t matter. The old health inspector was gone, and the new one hadn’t started yet. That guy wasn’t going to be of any help though since Pops had already said he couldn’t hold out much longer. Too bad there wasn’t a temporary health inspector that Max could sic on the imbecile across the…
Max’s train of thought came to a crashing halt as a crazy, half-baked scheme took over his brain. No. He couldn’t do that, could he? The whole idea was stupid. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel the plan might actually work. Even if it didn’t, he couldn’t just sit by and let someone take advantage of Pops like this. The man had gone out of his way to help Max out lots of times during the past ten years, and it was about damn time he returned the favor.
Over the years he had pulled some stupid-ass stunts, but this one would really take the cake. “Okay, that’s it. I’m going over there.”
Pops had already stacked the two plates onto a tray and was wiping the table down, but he paused mid-swipe to peer at Max. “Where? To the park? For what?”
“To get rid of that damn food truck once and for all.”
“Son, it’s a public road. You can’t force them to leave.”
“You’re right. I can’t.” He grinned. “But the city health inspector can.”
“But the new health inspector hasn’t started working for the city yet.”
“I know that and you know that,” Max replied, still smiling. “But that doesn’t mean the owner of the food truck knows it. You said they were new to town, right? Then they won’t know who I am. I’ll just pretend to be the health inspector and run them off.”
Pops sighed and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “While I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I can’t let you go over there and harass that—”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fine.” Max chuckled as the grateful look on Pops’ face changed to one of concern. “Seriously, Pops. I’m not going to bully him…much. I’m just going to go over there and give this guy a bit of a hard time. Maybe that’ll be enough to have him wanting to move on and find a new town to park his truck in.”
“No, Max. That’s not a good idea. There’s something you don’t know about—”
“Pops, it’s okay,” Max said, rising from his chair. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve got this.” He headed for the door before the old man tried to talk some sense into him. “I’ll have this food truck pulling out of here by the end of the day.”
* * *
Jessa Gibson scraped the pieces of prime beef, sliced scallions, and strips of red peppers into a pile with her metal spatula and gave them a quick toss. The medium-rare meat sizzled as it hit the searing-hot grill, and an aromatic puff of steam lifted into the air. She loved that mouth-watering scent almost as much as she loved the taste.
And apparently she wasn’t the only one. Her gourmet steak tacos were one of the bestselling items on the menu, and customers constantly praised her for the delicious aroma hovering around the Gypsy Cantina.
That was the great thing about owning a food truck.
In most restaurants, the chefs were way back in the kitchen, hidden from view, unable to see or speak with anyone other than the staff members. Most of those poor souls never got the chance to communicate directly with their diners, much less receive any feedback on their edible creations.
But that wasn’t the case for Jessa. No matter how busy she was, she always managed to prepare the customers’ meals while chatting with them. And not only had getting to know her customers been great for business, but it had been a huge help to her as well.
When she’d casually mentioned to a few of the local folks that she needed to hire some extra hands to keep up with the growing demand, her customers had jumped to the rescue. Through their reliable recommendations, Jessa had quickly found two dependable employees who had experience in the food industry.
Lisa, a middle-aged mother of twin girls, had once been a line cook but had decided to quit her job and become a stay-at-home mom. Now that her daughters were in kindergarten, she had been looking for a part-time job to help supplement her husband’s income yet still enable her to make it home in time to greet her kids at the school bus. Which meant the truck’s flexible working hours had been perfect for her.
The other worker, Mary, had once owned a restaurant in Midland but sold it five years ago when she and her husband had moved to Granite to retire. Unfortunately, her husband had passed away last year, and Mary had grown tired of sitting around the house by herself. Working on the truck had been keeping her busy, and Mary loved seeing all the familiar faces.
In a week’s time, both women had proven themselves to be dedicated employees of the Gypsy Cantina. They were great at multitasking, always on time, and both women seemed to really enjoy their jobs. Jessa couldn’t ask for more than that. Besides, she’d made two new friends in a town where she had none. That was a huge bonus.
Working fast, Jessa lifted the two homemade corn tortillas from the back of the flat-top grill, where she’d left them warming. She folded each in half, placing them side by side in a paper boat, and then filled the empty shells with a good-sized portion of meat, onions, and peppers. She added some pico de gallo, crumbled queso fresco, cilantro for garnish, and then finished each off with a drizzle of her signature sweet lime sauce.
Then she slid the completed dish down the counter to where Mary stood at the pick-up window. “Order up.”
“Thanks, Jess,” Mary said, glancing down at the ticket before calling out the customer’s name through the window.
An older gentleman in brown corduroy pants and a checkered knit sweater stepped forward with a pleasant smile. “Thank you, ladies. I’ll see you three beauties tomorrow,” he said with a wink. “Same time, same place?”
Mary nodded over to Jessa. “That’s up to the boss lady.”
She laughed and gave him a wave. “We’ll be here, Tom. Have a great day.”
Lisa had just finished helping someone at the order window when the next woman in line stepped up, sniffed appreciatively, and said, “Goodness, that looked and smelled great. What did that gentleman order?”
“Those were the steak tacos,” Lisa told her with a smile. “You should give them a try. They’re terrific.”
The woman nodded. “That sounds good. I think I will.”
“Two steak tacos coming right up,” Jessa chimed in, tossing more meat on the grill.
Lisa came closer. “Jess, why don’t you let me get this one. You probably could use a break.”
“I’m okay,” Jessa said with a shrug. “I’m used to being behind a hot grill all day.”
But Mary shook her head firmly and used her motherly tone on Jessa. “Lisa’s right. You’ve been on your feet for hours. Step outside and get some fresh air. We’ve got this handled for now.”
Jessa couldn’t help but smile. These two had only been working with her for a week, but they were constantly telling her to slow down and take it easy. “Okay, then I’ll take these squeeze bottles that Mary filled out to the condiment station and check the trash while I’m out there. How about that?”
Lisa laughed. “God. Can’t you sit still for even a minute? You always have to be doing something.”
Jessa grinned. “I guess I’m just used to working by myself and having everything fall on my shoulders. But it’s been nice having you two helping me out. Definitely makes my life a whole lot easier.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Mary said, moving to take over Lisa’s vacated window. “I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we’re with you until the end.”
Lisa nodded. “Or until you fire us for bossing you around.”
Jessa smiled, and her heart swelled inside her chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m so glad I found the two of you. I really needed the extra hands, and I couldn’t ask for better employees…or friends.”
Both women smiled, and then Mary handed her the squeeze bottles and shooed her toward the door. “Go on already, Jess. And do us a favor. Take an actual break. Don’t just work while you’re out there.”
Laughing, she nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she said in a childlike tone.
The moment Jessa stepped out, she realized that she was still wearing her disposable pink gloves and white plastic apron. Crap. Oh, well. It was probably best to keep them on until she finished with the trash anyway.
She continued on her way to the condiment station, which was sitting around the front side of the truck near the pick-up window. Jessa left the squeeze bottles on the table, grabbed a bottle of water from the drink bin on the outside of the truck, and moved to stand in the shade of a nearby tree. She sipped the water slowly, letting the cold liquid trickle down her dry throat.
After standing in front of a searing hot grill for the past few hours, the cool breeze wafting over the perspiration on her skin felt like heaven. But it did make her wonder if a storm was coming in. Even though it was the start of the fall season, South Texas had never been well known for its cool air.
At least not according to her deceased mother. Mariah Gibson had been quite the free spirit back in the day. Before Jessa had been born, her mother had rolled through this town faster than a rampant tumbleweed, letting the wind sweep her in whatever direction it had been blowing. Maybe it was the gypsy heritage in her bloodline or the thrill of adventure, but Jessa’s mom had never stayed in one place for very long.
But one thing was for certain. The woman had loved every minute of the short time she’d spent in Granite, Texas. She had always spoken so fondly of the people in this town and their overall sense of community. In fact, her mother had loved it so much that she’d even planned for the two of them to return together someday.
Unfortunately, that day never came. Her mom had always been the picture of health and a woman of vitality. She took chances, made daring moves, and lived her life in a way that most people could only dream to live theirs. But the cancer had seemingly come out of nowhere and swept through her body so fast that her mom’s desire to do anything had quickly faded out, along with her spirit and the light in her eyes.
After her mother passed away, Jessa had tried her best to live her life in a way that her mother would’ve been proud of. She spent a few years traveling from town to town, working as an assistant to a well-known chef who specialized in pop-up venues. At first, the traveling had been fun and inspiring, exposing her to lots of different cultures and new people. It had been just what she needed at the time.
But since the pop-up dining events were never in the same location twice, Jessa had quickly grown tired of never seeing a familiar face. And she hated that.
Unlike her mother, Jessa had the strong urge to plant her feet and put down roots, which is why she’d chosen to move to Granite in the first place. Maybe it was strange for someone who longed for something familiar to move to a new place where she’d never been and knew no one, but Jessa had a desperate need to fulfill her mother’s dreams as well as her own.
Now she wanted to pursue the rest of her mother’s dream by coming back to the one place her mother had loved so much. Besides, being in this quaint, little town that her mom had visited, even for a short time, somehow made her feel closer to her.
Jessa’s eyes flitted over to the colorful mural decorating the side of her food truck. A redheaded gypsy woman—painted in her mother’s likeness—stared back at her with a bright crimson-colored head wrap, dangling gold earrings, and a slight smile on her calm face. As much as her mother had loved to travel, it seemed only fitting to take her along on a new adventure.
“Miss you, Mom,” Jessa whispered under her breath. She swallowed hard and exhaled slowly to keep the sadness from welling up in her eyes. Then she added, “But I’m here in Granite just like we planned. I made it.”
Jessa took a moment to compose herself while finishing off her water, and then she tossed the empty bottle into the recycle bin before checking the trash can next to it. She noted that it was only half-full. No point in changing it out yet. But there was some garbage littering the ground nearby, so she stopped long enough to pick it up and throw it away.
A voice cleared behind her. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
Startled, she whirled around, almost bumping into a man with light brown hair and deep set eyes. He stood so close to her that he towered over her short frame. At five feet four inches, she was usually shorter than most people. But this guy? He had to be at least a foot taller than her, which was a bit more intimidating than men of average height. Staring up at him was like trying to see the top of a skyscraper while you’re standing on ground level.
Jessa took a wary step back but smiled politely. “Yes?”
The handsome gentleman had a lean, muscular build, broad shoulders, and intense hazel eyes that seemed to bore holes straight through her. He was great to stare at, but he wasn’t smiling back, which unnerved her even more.
“Do you work on this food truck?” he asked, taking another step toward her. His words were neither friendly nor unfriendly, but his underlying tone sounded a bit hostile.
She nodded shakily. “Yes, I do. Is there something I can help you with?”
She’d never had anyone complain about her food before and hoped that wasn’t what this stranger was about to do. But if he did have a problem with something on her menu, then she definitely wanted to know about it.
“Yeah,” he said, shifting his position even closer. “You can get the owner of this food truck out here so I can have a word with him.”
One eyebrow rose as she took another step back, as if they were somehow unknowingly dancing with one another. “Um…him?”
“Yeah, the moron who owns this rig.”
For a moment, words failed her. She stood there blinking up at him while acid bubbled up into her throat. Did he really just call her a moron? And why the hell would he assume the business was owned by a man—because it happened to be on a truck? What kind of sexist bullshit was that?
Then again, judging by the guy’s lack of consideration for a woman’s personal space, she shouldn’t be surprised. He was obviously a jerk. A tall, handsome one, but still a jerk nonetheless.
As strange as it was, she almost couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he realized he had just insulted the actual owner…who also happened to be a woman. Now who’s the moron, you chauvinistic pig?
Lifting her chin, Jessa tossed her head back and looked at him directly. “What can I do for you, sir?”
Confusion flickered in his eyes. “I already told you what you can do for me. I’d like you to get the owner out here so I can talk to him.”
She smirked. God, he was really cute but a little dumb. “Like I said, what can I do for you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you have a problem with your short-term memory or something? How many times do I need to repeat myself?”
Jessa gasped at his rudeness, and her blood boiled in her veins. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
“Max Hager, the new city health inspector, that’s who.”
Oh, crap. Jessa froze in place as panic swamped her system. She’d just come close to telling off the one man who could shut down her food truck business with a click of a pen. Jesus. Thank goodness he cut her off and hadn’t allowed her to finish what she had been about to say. It definitely wouldn’t have been nice.
Whew! Dodged that bullet.
She sighed.
Weeks ago, when she’d applied for the permits at city hall, the previous inspector had passed her new food truck with flying colors. But that had been before she hit the road with it. She should’ve figured it was only a matter of time before the new health inspector showed up here to make sure everything was still up to code.
But God. Did he have to be so arrogant?
And really, why the hell was he so young and good looking? Every health inspector she’d ever crossed paths with in the past had been at least twenty or thirty years older than her and usually had something unattractive about them…like unruly nose hairs. But this man looked to be around his early thirties at most and didn’t seem to have an imperfect bone in his drool-worthy body.
Although Jessa was almost certain this guy couldn’t read her thoughts, he smirked as if he had done just that. And it sent something hot spiraling through her. God. What was wrong with her? She was getting hot and bothered by the hunky dimwit who happened to be the health inspector. As if that was a smart move.
Mr. Hager shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Now, as I was saying…If you can get the owner out here so I can speak with him about a few infractions, I’d appreciate it.”
Oh no. Dread filled her. “Infractions?”
“Yeah.” He motioned to her truck and grimaced. “Apparently, this guy doesn’t know how to stay within the city ordinances,” he said, his tone full of arrogance. “So I’m here to educate him on the matter.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Jessa didn’t know what she did wrong, but whatever it was, she would fix it immediately. She just hoped he wouldn’t suspend or revoke her permits in the meantime. “Um, okay. Give me just a second,” she said, heading toward the truck to tell the girls that she would be a little longer than they’d expected.
She barely made it halfway to the truck when the man behind her said, “By the way, what’s this idiot’s name?”
Jessa stopped dead in her tracks, and her stomach burned with irritation. Did this cocky bastard really just call me an idiot? Then she counted to ten slowly before turning around to face him. Being that he was the health inspector, he clearly had an advantage over her, so she thought it was best to keep her control—and her mouth—in check. But the mental restraint required to do so had her head throbbing with pent-up frustration.
This dickhead was really starting to get on her nerves, but she managed to answer him anyway. “It’s Jess.”
“Jess, huh? Does he have a last name?”
“Gibson.”
He nodded. “Okay. Well, tell this Jess Gibson fella that I don’t like to be kept waiting long, will ya?”
She nodded while gritting her teeth. “Sure. No problem.” Imbecile.
Jessa headed through the door to let Mary and Lisa know that she would be outside for a little while longer and to make sure they were handling things on their own. The last thing she wanted to do was leave them in a bind. But as she suspected, things were running just as smoothly as ever.
She didn’t bother telling them that the health inspector was waiting for her outside the truck. They didn’t ask anyway, so she figured she would just explain her whereabouts later. It wasn’t like they had anything to hide. She just didn’t want one of the customers to overhear and get the impression that something was wrong with her food. Because there definitely wasn’t. And if at any point the inspector asked to see inside the kitchen, she would be happy to prove it.
By the time she made it back outside, Mr. Hager had moved closer to the backside of the truck and was glaring at it as if he were looking for more problems. Figures. It was a little strange that he’d chosen to look at the back of the truck first since there wasn’t much of anything back there to actually look at. But at least he was away from the crowd, and the customers wouldn’t be able to hear whatever it was that he was about to tell her. She still wasn’t sure what it was, but judging by the scowl on his face, it didn’t look good.
She headed straight for him. “Mr. Hager?”
He glared down at her, making her feel even shorter than she already was. Then his hazel eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me the owner wouldn’t come out of there to meet me.”
“Um, no. Nothing like that.”
Now he just looked confused as ever. “Then where the hell is the guy?”
Sighing, she peeled off her pink disposable gloves and thrust out her hand. “You’re looking at her. I’m Jessa Gibson, but my friends call me Jess.”