guests were—or that she stayed for a while.
She kept her phone in her pocket. She wasn’t surprised to feel a vibration at a time she wouldn’t have chosen, when she and Tobi were taking orders at a table of two senior couples whom Ella introduced as some of her parents’ closest friends—in other words, they were to treat these seniors like family, take good care of them and make Ella proud.
“Yes, our chicken potpie is wonderful,” she told the elderly gentleman she had been waiting on, even as the tingling vibration at her hip stopped. “It’s made fresh, of course, and our customers always rave about it.”
“Have you ever tried it?” the man asked, aiming a squinting gaze up at her.
She’d tasted some of the filling, though not the crust, so it wasn’t a complete fib to say, “I sure have. Wonderful!” she repeated.
“I agree,” Tobi added from across the table. “It’s one of our best customer favorites.” The other server winked one of her pale hazel eyes at Kelly.
“Let me have one, then,” the man said, nodding with a firm expression on his lips that suggested he had made the most important decision of the day.
“I want to change my order,” the other man said. “I’ll try that pie, too.”
“Of course.” This time Tobi’s expression was an exasperated eye roll that made Kelly want to laugh. But she held it in.
In a minute, they had finished taking the orders, and both hurried toward the kitchen to let the busy chefs know.
“What a group,” Tobi said, her voice lowered. “No wonder Ella likes them. They’re like her—full of orders and changes.”
“Exactly.” Kelly was hoping to slip away for a minute after they’d turned in the orders so she could check her phone, but she had the impression that Tobi was in a chatty mood.
Fortunately, though, once they were in the kitchen and the chefs had gone over the orders and promised to get to them right away—after Tobi informed them about the priority of these particular customers—Lang came in.
“Just got a big group in the front,” he said. “I’ve already moved tables around, but I need some help.” The paunchy server looked from Tobi to Kelly and back again.
“I’d be glad to,” Tobi said, just as Kelly had hoped.
“Me, too, but not for a few minutes,” Kelly added.
“Sure,” Lang said, then turned and waddled out the kitchen door.
Tobi hurried to catch up with him.
Kelly headed down the hall toward the ladies’ room.
No one else was there, so Kelly immediately removed her phone from her pocket. She opened a text from Alan: Lunch and dinner together on the same day? Sounds great to me. I’ll bring takeout to your place at 7:30. See you then.
She felt a huge grin spread over her face. She was definitely getting together with Alan. All business, of course. They had a lot to talk about, even though he might not realize it.
Takeout at her place? He hadn’t asked her to text her address. But Alan was undercover. In security. He undoubtedly knew where she’d lived before, when she was Shereen. He’d also be aware of Stan Grodon’s address. So was Kelly, of course—unless Stan had moved Eli and himself away after “losing” his wife.
Maybe Kelly should find out about that. She obviously couldn’t ask Eli, although she wanted to—and if they’d moved, to learn what her nephew thought about it. She would try to ask him that subtly sometime, somehow...
But for now, she could ask Alan where they were living.
And Alan, being who and what he was, most likely already also knew where the woman now known as Kelly lived. She’d test him by not providing the information unless he asked for it, though she suspected he wouldn’t.
But she would see him that night. That was the important thing—for her safety. Her peace of mind. Her happiness of the moment.
She was absolutely looking forward to it.
Chapter 9
T he meeting was over at last. Alan stood in the hallway outside the conference room at one
She kept her phone in her pocket. She wasn’t surprised to feel a vibration at a time she wouldn’t have chosen, when she and Tobi were taking orders at a table of two senior couples whom Ella introduced as some of her parents’ closest friends—in other words, they were to treat these seniors like family, take good care of them and make Ella proud.
“Yes, our chicken potpie is wonderful,” she told the elderly gentleman she had been waiting on, even as the tingling vibration at her hip stopped. “It’s made fresh, of course, and our customers always rave about it.”
“Have you ever tried it?” the man asked, aiming a squinting gaze up at her.
She’d tasted some of the filling, though not the crust, so it wasn’t a complete fib to say, “I sure have. Wonderful!” she repeated.
“I agree,” Tobi added from across the table. “It’s one of our best customer favorites.” The other server winked one of her pale hazel eyes at Kelly.
“Let me have one, then,” the man said, nodding with a firm expression on his lips that suggested he had made the most important decision of the day.
“I want to change my order,” the other man said. “I’ll try that pie, too.”
“Of course.” This time Tobi’s expression was an exasperated eye roll that made Kelly want to laugh. But she held it in.
In a minute, they had finished taking the orders, and both hurried toward the kitchen to let the busy chefs know.
“What a group,” Tobi said, her voice lowered. “No wonder Ella likes them. They’re like her—full of orders and changes.”
“Exactly.” Kelly was hoping to slip away for a minute after they’d turned in the orders so she could check her phone, but she had the impression that Tobi was in a chatty mood.
Fortunately, though, once they were in the kitchen and the chefs had gone over the orders and promised to get to them right away—after Tobi informed them about the priority of these particular customers—Lang came in.
“Just got a big group in the front,” he said. “I’ve already moved tables around, but I need some help.” The paunchy server looked from Tobi to Kelly and back again.
“I’d be glad to,” Tobi said, just as Kelly had hoped.
“Me, too, but not for a few minutes,” Kelly added.
“Sure,” Lang said, then turned and waddled out the kitchen door.
Tobi hurried to catch up with him.
Kelly headed down the hall toward the ladies’ room.
No one else was there, so Kelly immediately removed her phone from her pocket. She opened a text from Alan: Lunch and dinner together on the same day? Sounds great to me. I’ll bring takeout to your place at 7:30. See you then.
She felt a huge grin spread over her face. She was definitely getting together with Alan. All business, of course. They had a lot to talk about, even though he might not realize it.
Takeout at her place? He hadn’t asked her to text her address. But Alan was undercover. In security. He undoubtedly knew where she’d lived before, when she was Shereen. He’d also be aware of Stan Grodon’s address. So was Kelly, of course—unless Stan had moved Eli and himself away after “losing” his wife.
Maybe Kelly should find out about that. She obviously couldn’t ask Eli, although she wanted to—and if they’d moved, to learn what her nephew thought about it. She would try to ask him that subtly sometime, somehow...
But for now, she could ask Alan where they were living.
And Alan, being who and what he was, most likely already also knew where the woman now known as Kelly lived. She’d test him by not providing the information unless he asked for it, though she suspected he wouldn’t.
But she would see him that night. That was the important thing—for her safety. Her peace of mind. Her happiness of the moment.
She was absolutely looking forward to it.
Chapter 9
T he meeting was over at last. Alan stood in the hallway outside the conference room at one
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