Bittersweet Read Online Free Page A

says with a smile. “Who needs exercise?”
    I ignore his flirting. “Believe me,” I say in between breaths, “if Sonya Thompson does, then I sure as hell do. Aren’t you going to be late for work, anyway?”
    He shrugs, and we both glance back as a car honks its horn and passes Hal’s truck. I guess I’m not running fast enough for the traffic.
    “Hector knows I’m his best mechanic,” Hal says, ignoring the guy in the car. “He doesn’t care if I’m a few minutes late.”
    “Wish my boss was that soft,” I say, and we both laugh.
    “Hey, I saw Mindy Carver last night—”
    “Last night, huh?” I interject with raised eyebrows.
    “Yeah. Anyway, she’s going to start teaching over at the high school in fall, and she says they’ll be setting up the TV production office over there for the next few weeks. They’re going to shoot there and everything. Don’t you think it will be crazy to see Dogwood High on TV?”
    “I guess so.” I shrug and pick up my pace. “Hey, you better get going. I’m not paying your ticket if the cops give you a traffic violation.”
    “Hah. I’ll see you later, Cath.”
    “Yeah—and you should give that thing a tune-up while you’re at work, huh?” I gesture to his rust-bucket and he laughs.
    “Don’t insult my baby.”
    “Bye, Hal.”
    He pulls off, honking his horn, and I laugh as the strains of “La Cucaracha” echo away down the street. I finally slow down as I reach the corner where the restaurant is, and do some stretches outside before I head in. I hope my father listened to me and finally took the day off as well, and as I look around the restaurant floor and into the kitchen, I’m pleased to see no sign of him.
    “Hey, Bobby,” I call through the pass. “Joe’s not in, is he?”
    “Nope.”
    “Good,” I murmur, then smile at Jenna as she strides past, tucking her pencil behind her ear.
    “Coffee, hon?” she asks, already heading over to the machine.
    I nod, but then do a double-take when I see a figure with long limbs and a mop of dark hair sitting at the end of the counter.
    Shit. Shit .
    I reach up to my own hair and attempt to smooth my flyaways. I’m almost certain I have sweat patches. Giant, damp, gross sweat patches. There’s no salvaging this look. Maybe he won’t notice me? Of course, the minute I think that, he looks up and finds me staring right at him. My stomach does a weird lurch.
    “Oh. Hey,” he says. Hey again? But that voice… Nonchalant. Low. Sexy.
    “Hi,” I manage.
    “Cathy, right?”
    I nod. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember without the name tag,” I retort without thinking. Why did I say that?
    He looks at me for an agonizing moment, then gives a short, velvety laugh, and I sag with relief.
    “No, I remember,” he says quietly, then takes a breath. “I was actually just telling the lovely Jenna here about the sterling job you did drumming up my business last night.” He turns and smiles over at my fellow waitress, blinking those baby blues. How did that sound like both an innuendo and an insult? Jenna sets my cup of coffee down on the counter with a giggle.
    “You want a refill?” she asks Greg.
    “Not just yet, sweetheart.”
    Sweetheart? Normally Jen would fling a burning bra at a guy trying to charm her like that, but for some ridiculously good-looking reason, she lets that one slide.
    “Uh, I actually was thinking I’d get that to go…” I begin, pointing to my coffee, but Jenna’s already heading off to her next table. I’m forced to move closer to where Greg is perched, with a half-eaten plate of breakfast in front of him. Why oh why did I pick today of all days to start running again? I try to smell myself subtly, but that’s just weird, so I stop and edge the coffee over to me while trying not to raise my arm too much.
    “So you’re not working today?” he asks offhandedly, eyes on his food.
    He looks over when I don’t say anything, and I glance down at my sweaty running gear then back