Page 18 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

“You weren’t?”

“No, I asked for more hours. I’m coming in tomorrow morning to train under Marissa. My life doesn’t revolve around this guy. I’ve got other things going on, ya know.”

“Oh.” Sylvia’s eyes softened but the crease in her forehead remained. “Is it Rachel?”

“Yes, and no. It’s complicated.”

“Are you … is everything alright? I just mean, if you ever need anything, you can always ask me.”

“I know, thanks, Sylvia.”

Sylvia thought she understood, thought she could empathize with Clarissa’s situation because of her father-in-law. But the truth was, he lived across the country with her extended family where a whole troop of relatives were taking care of him. Clarissa was alone. As good as Sylvia’s intentions were, she really didn’t have a clue.

Clarissa went back out and started cleaning the counter out of nervous habit. Then she refilled Jeff and Eugene’s coffee mugs. Switching for decaf, she went over to the booth. The good Samaritan watched her intently, an unreadable emotion thick on his face. It was almost sad, laced with worry and unasked questions.

“How is everything?” she asked, topping off his drink.

“Excellent,” he said.

“You need anything else?” she asked.

“Yes, actually.”

She stared at him, waiting.

“Do you have time to sit with me?” He gestured to the empty seat across him.

She hesitated. Sitting and talking to a customer wasn’t out of her norm; she did it with Jeff and Eugene all the time. Sometimes Ethal from the old ladies’ book club snagged her and asked her opinion on books. But this man wasn’t gay, nor was he a lonely grandma reading spicy books—if anything, he was worthy of being on the book cover, and that had her all in a tizzy. But surely she could have a polite conversation with him without getting inappropriate. She could at least try. If not, she’d get Adam to toss him out on his ass. With that decided, she perched in the booth.

“I’ve been thinking. You don’t like giving your information out to strangers, which is understandable,” he said.

“But?” Her voice wavered.

“What if I don’t want to be a stranger anymore?”

She startled. His gaze was warm and unwavering.

“My name is Thomas Sinclaire, Tom for short. I’m the eldest of three siblings, my sister’s name is Maria Hernandez and my brother’s is James.”

“I see,” she said. What the hell else was she supposed to say? And why was his last name so familiar?

“I’m also an uncle,” he beamed. “Or soon to be, that is. Maria and her husband, Samuel, are expecting. After my father retired last year, my brother and I took over the family business, Sinclaire Lumber.”

Oh my God, he was a lumberjack! He also ran the local business that employed half the town.

“I confess, James is much better at the business aspect than I am. I prefer managing the day-to-day of the plant and the workers. My sister’s a lawyer, she advises the family business as needed, otherwise she has a private practice out of her home.”

“Why …” She frowned. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“I told you; I no longer want to be a stranger to you.”

“I see.” She didn’t.

“Was that enough information to buy your name? If not, I can certainly provide more.” Thomas inhaled as if he was about to start rambling again.

“Clarissa.” She cut him off. “My name is Clarissa Roberts.”

His eyes smoldered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Clarissa.” He offered his hand across the table.