Page 26 of Fake It Till You Make It

“In that case, bring on the meat and bread.” Amarie beamed.

The waitress came over, an older woman with coal-black strands pulled into a messy topknot.

“Good to see you, Leah.” She smiled, her blue eyes garaged under sweeping false lashes.

“You too, Delores. This is Amarie, our new hire.”

“Oh, I already know. Mrs. Lois came through on her way downtown. Told us that you’re the one driving that purple BMW out by the road.”

“Actually, it’s not all that drivable right now. It started spewing hot guts on the way up the mountain.”

“That sounds just awful.” Delores clucked. “Not to worry though. My oldest, Rocky, real name Sylvester, is just sitting around the house. He’d be happy to swing by and take a look.”

“No. No,” Leah chimed in. “Eli will take care of it for her.”

Delores shrugged. “Alrighty then. So, two coalminer sandwiches, hot or cold?”

Leah nodded. “We like our meat hot. Thanks, Dee.”

“Just like your boys, eh? I been hearing about the auction. Couple of Buchanans were worked up about the whole thing. Speak of the devil, did you hear that Kanaan released Bucky this morning? That man is a menace to this town. Poor Ruth.” Delores sucked air between her teeth, making atsksound. “Can’t understand why she stays. I wouldn’t—”

“Ah, Delores, our orders,” Leah prompted. “We’ll be sure to steer clear of Bucky. But I’d appreciate you talking up the auction.”

Mental note, there was a bad Bucky on the loose. Of course, Adele had been labeled a fierce feline who hadbecome a plush pussycat for Amarie. She decided not to prejudge. It had been unbearable to be under the microscope of others. It hurt. Now, for this car business. First and foremost, Prince was her responsibility. She hadn’t asked for help, and she wouldn’t beg her boss’s help, even if his mother volun-told him.

“Sure thing, Leah. Food’s coming right up.”

“Leah, I can’t ask Eli to help with Prince.”

“Prince,” Delores repeated. “Your car has a name. Isn’t that the cutest thang?” Amarie startled. Their waitress had joined the conversation… again. “Eli’s been a big ol’ bear to everyone in town. Ask his mama, she’ll tell ya. He just can’t seem to help himself since—”

Leah chimed in before Delores could say anything else. “That’s Eli’s story to tell. We’re not ones to gossip. Are we, Dee?”

“You won’t hear me repeating gossip. ’Cause I say it loud enough the first time.” She laughed. “I forgot to ask what you two ladies are drinking?”

“I’ll take a cup of coffee. Decaf,” Leah said.

“Pepsi, light ice.”

“Oh, my goodness. This is Jack Daniels and Jim Beam country, honey. Everything on the top shelf goes down easy with Coke.”

“Ah, okay, no new-generation products. What about tea?”

“Tea, we got. Unsweetened, hot or cold?”

“Sweet,” Amarie said, affronted. “I’m a Southern girl through and through. Florida born. We take our tea sweet or not at all.”

“This is Service. So that’s two coalminers. One coffee, no thrills. And a lemonade ’cause the city girl with Southern roots needs her sugar fix.”

“Let the lady make her own choices, Delores,” herinsta-bestie said in defense. “Is the lemonade okay, Amarie? You can order something stronger if you like. No judgment.”

Leah waited, not in a rush for Amarie to decide.

“I’ll try it.” Amarie nodded.

Leah raised her finger, pointing as if remembering something important. “Two creamers on the side, too. Thanks.”

Amarie swayed to the music, an upbeat country tune she remembered from the radio, until she lost the words and herself in the rolling notes.