The Reluctant Bachelor

She wrinkled her nose at the dried gobs of egg and grease on the first plate. There had to be better ways to get Rick to do the show than this. She glanced behind her at the man in question, who cracked eggs onto the hot griddle. If she could just find out why he’d done the show the first time...

“Dishes don’t wash themselves, Lizzie.” He threw the eggshells into the large trash can next to him as if they were basketballs and he were Kobe Bryant. He walked over and turned on the hot water, then squeezed a healthy dollop of dish soap into the sink. Pointed to the three sinks, the last full of clear liquid. “Wash. Rinse. Sanitize.” He pulled the hose closer to her. “And don’t be afraid to get a little wet.”

She rolled her eyes and dropped the first dish into the sudsy water.

* * *

RICKSWALLOWEDALAUGH as Lizzie glared at him over her coffee cup. She looked like a drowned rat. Her long brown hair was plastered to the sides of her head; her clothes clung to her slight form. Her carefully applied makeup had run two hours ago, leaving her face streaked in brown and blue. “Good job, Lizzie.”

She rolled her eyes and forked a bite of French toast into her mouth, pausing to moan after the first bite. “What do you put in these?”

He shrugged. “Little cinnamon. Lots of love.”

Again with the rolled eyes. She’d be lucky to end the day without a massive headache if she kept that up.

“So are you done torturing me?”

Torture. Interesting word choice. She’d agreed to get a glimpse of his normal life, and now she considered it inhumane. If only she knew. “You’ll probably want to freshen up before the lunch crowd gets here.” Panic washed over her face, but he held up one hand. “Don’t worry. You’re done with the dishes. Jeffy should be here anytime.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Thank goodness.”

“But I am short a waitress.”

Lizzie stood up and threw her napkin on the table before storming out of the diner. Rick chuckled and took another sip of his coffee. Mission accomplished. Better that she leave now than wait until it was too late.

The bell above the door chimed again. “Ricky.”

He glanced up and swallowed a groan at the sight of his older brother, Dan, wearing a suit and tie. If Mr. High and Mighty stooped to grace the diner with his presence, the news couldn’t be good. Didn’t matter that the diner belonged to the family empire along with the pickle-canning plant and brightly colored cans of pickles on store shelves. Rick knew that the diner didn’t even register on Dan’s radar.

“Need a cup of coffee?” Rick stood and retrieved the coffee carafe from behind the counter, hooked a mug with one finger, then joined his brother in the back booth. He poured the coffee into the empty mug before topping off his own. “Still drink it black or should I find the creamer?”

“Black’s fine.”

Rick nodded and took the seat across from Dan. “What’s wrong? Is it Mom again?”

Dan shook his head, then glanced behind him at the customers gathered at the diner. “We can talk here?”

Any news his brother had to share would be sure to make the gossip rounds in Lake Mildred before too long. “Sure.”

Dan sighed, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. “I’ll be glad when this whole economic downturn is over.”

Downturn? Was that what people losing their jobs, homes and lives was? Rick took a sip of his coffee, mostly to keep from saying what he really wanted to say. “Just tell me what you came here for.”

Dan leaned forward. “I heard that producer is in town.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Rick nodded. So that was what his visit was about? A pretty face? “Yeah, Lizzie’s here. She might be back in about twenty minutes if you want to talk to her.”

Dan frowned. “Why would I talk to her?”

“She’s cute. All wrong for you, of course. But she does fit your type.” Rick poured some creamer into his coffee and stirred it. “Smart. Pretty. No nonsense.”

“I’m not looking for a date, Rick.” He took a sip of his coffee, then placed the mug on the table. Rubbed his forehead and twitching eye. “She wants you to do that show again?”

He sighed. He couldn’t escape the show, not even with his family. “Don’t worry. I already told her to forget about it.”

Dan frowned and shook his head as if Rick had said the worst thing in the world. “Why would you do a stupid thing like that?”

Wait. His brother wanted him to do the show? “If memory serves, you didn’t want me to do the show the last time. Hated it when I left. Then resented me when I came back home.”

“I was stupid, okay?” He glanced at his cell phone. “All of Dad’s talk about what was good for the family? The company? I think I get it now.”

Rick remembered the discussions he and his dad had had over the show. In the end, it had come down to Rick choosing to help save the family company. “You got it five years too late.”

“I wasn’t CEO then. I didn’t realize what a boon that show could be.” Dan adjusted the lapel of his suit coat. “Last time, our sales went up almost thirty percent. We got distributors in a dozen more states that sold our product. Business at the diner tripled after they aired your hometown visit.” He leaned in closer. “We could use that kind of publicity again.”

“No.”

Dan shook his head. “What’s changed? Dad told you to do the show then. I’m telling you now.”

Telling him what to do yet again. Well, Rick wasn’t the same little brother who went along with Dan’s ideas. He had his own life. His own choices to make. “I’m smarter this time around. I won’t do it.”

“I get it.” Dan jutted his jaw forward, the same way he had since they were kids and he thought he was not only right, but that Rick would be convinced of it, too. “You need to think about it. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Call me next week. The answer will still be the same.”

Dan stood and placed a hand on Rick’s shoulder. “You’ve got to think of the family, little brother.”

Rick shook his head and bit back a laugh. “I am thinking of the family. You’re focusing on the company’s bottom line.”

“You don’t understand the hole we’re in. And if we fail, this town will never be the same—” Dan broke off and shook his head. “Never mind. This was a mistake.”

Rick got to his feet and leaned in toward Dan. “Why would we fail?”

“Maybe if you read those company reports I send you more than you read the sports pages, you might understand why I’m here.” Dan took one last sip of coffee before slapping the mug on the table. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Rick was getting pretty good at making people storm out of his diner.

* * *

ELIZABETHSTAREDINTOher suitcase as if a waitress uniform would magically appear. Thankfully, she’d never had to go the same route as her mother. She’d known someone who knew someone offering a job as a page on a studio lot when she turned sixteen, and she’d been into television ever since. It was all that she knew. All she wanted. That was why she had to use this week to convince Rick to do the show. If that meant washing mountains of dishes and pouring rivers of coffee, she’d do it.

A pair of khakis peeked at her from the bottom of the suitcase, so she pulled them out and found a sleeveless green shell and matching short-sleeved top to go with it. It was better than nothing. Or at least better than the sopping oxford and slacks that hung over the shower curtain rod in the tiny bathroom of her room at the bed-and-breakfast.

She returned to the diner to find Rick barking orders to his cook through the window. He looked comfortable here. As if he knew that he’d be doing this for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately.

Didn’t he see that he had so much more to offer? She’d watched the dailies again from the last show he’d done and knew that he was made for bigger things than running a small-town diner. Maybe he didn’t want to work for the family company, but he wasn’t being challenged here. That was where she came in. She needed to broaden his horizons. Provide him with a better life. Success on the show would mean opened doors for him, and he could write his own future. Be a celebrity chef if he wanted. Get his own cooking show and endorsement deals.