“We were just introducing ourselves,” Lacy said, trying not to give away her disappointment over him likely being married while also trying to sound upbeat, in case Emma was about to get in trouble for rushing the truck.
He held back a bit, letting Emma be. The girl fidgeted like a little bunny. “We don’t want to interfere with your setup.”
“I do have a few things to pull together, so…”
“Can I help?” Emma blurted.
Would it be a help or hindrance and throw her off schedule to find something for Emma to do? “Um, tell you what, give me half an hour to set up my kitchen, then I’ll let you put out the napkins and plastic utensils.”
“Okay!” Such enthusiasm.
Why was she here, anyway? Oh right, spring break, but did that mean Zack’s wife also worked? Probably. Two-income households were a sign of the times, especially in California.
“Great,” Zack said, a pleasing glint in his impressive green eyes.
Was that glint from being a happily married man? She wasn’t looking anyway; in fact, she’d been hiding out from all things “living” for the last year, focusing solely on getting her dad’s truck redone and taking it on the road. Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head was really disappointed.
“We’ll be back later.”
Later. Oh, right, she had a job to do—impress the heck out of him! She hoped later meant he would also order lunch. Handing out free coffee and pie samples to his men on Friday was one thing—who didn’t want free stuff? But bringing the customer back to order lunch, in this case fifty construction guys, give or take a dozen, was a wide bridge to cross. She hoped she’d made a good enough impression to coax at least half of them back.
The thought of having to earn her way into a job made her heart flutter, or maybe it was the extra sneak peek she’d taken of Zack’s backside while he’d guided his delightful daughter by her shoulder back to the office. Quit looking! You’re not interested.
Besides, he’s married.
Scratch flirting off the day’s agenda, snort, as if she would if she had the nerve in the first place. This man was boss material. She needed a job not a crush.
She couldn’t very well stand around and gawk at a really fine male specimen—she had work to do. Before she reentered her truck, she opened the outside menu, which listed the complete rundown of wraps, at affordable prices considering their size and contents. All self-explanatory, too. Chicken Done Right, Put a Steak in It, Ham It Up, Eat Your Veggies, Name That Tuna, Eggs-xactly, and Down by the Sea, a daily seafood special, today’s being a cold wrap of bay shrimp with her unique take on coleslaw. Plus, the day’s assortment of hand pies—apple, peach, blueberry and puddin’, today’s flavor being chocolate. Who wouldn’t want to try out her menu at least once?
With hope cinching up her insecurity, she stepped back into the food truck and got right to work heating the grill, opening the vents, setting out the marinated steak and chicken, and all the other accoutrements.
True to her word and exactly a half hour later, little Emma popped up on the doorstep. Like a puppy off a leash. “Are you ready for my help?”
“I sure am.” As Lacy scrambled to grab the paper napkins and box of plastic utensils, it occurred to her she hadn’t started the coffee. “Crud!”
“Are you okay?” Emma’s wide eyes and mild shoulder-hunch indicated worry. Unnecessary worry.
“Oh, I’m fine, honey, I just remembered I have to get the coffee brewed before the guys show up. Oh, and if you want to stick around, I’ll let you hand out the bottled water or canned sodas when they buy them.”
“Okay! This is fun.” Emma took the napkins and plastic forks and trotted outside to the pull-out counter. She rushed back in the instant she’d finished, her little pink-sneaker-clad foot tapping. “What else can I do?”
“Uh, well, how about putting the mustard, mayo and ketchup bottles out for me?”
“Okay!”
It certainly didn’t take much to make the child excited. A flash of being around the same age and helping her dad during the summers led her back to the handsome first adult crush of her life, Zackery Gardner, who just happened to be Emma’s dad. The married guy with a family. But really, what were the odds of crossing his path again? What a coincidence.
Everything went quiet. Silence fell over the truck like a thick blanket. What happened to the busy woodpeckers?
Lacy glanced at her watch. Noon. No need for a horn or whistle to mark that. Evidently, the construction crew knew instinctively and had stopped working. Her previously distracted stomach flutters immediately reported back for duty. Taking a deep breath, as if her future didn’t depend on selling wraps to new customers in order to land a regular job, she hopped into place behind the counter and waited.
And waited.
Until the silence became painful.
Looking down the site, half of the men sat on the concrete slabs of the houses eating from lunch pails, and a dozen or two had hopped into cars and driven off for someone else’s fast food, no doubt. They didn’t even bother to look at her as they drove by. She hadn’t won a single man over by handing out her desserts last Friday. She guessed she was not good enough to pay for. She’d never once used the word crestfallen in casual conversation, but it turned out to be the perfect word to best explain how she felt right then.
As her heart sank, dragging her self-esteem with it, Zack came out from the office leading a line of three other employees behind him. One woman, two men. Not counting Little Miss Enthusiasm. He stepped up to the window, a sympathetic smile creasing his mouth. “Lunch is on me,” he said over his shoulder to the office staff, his left hand resting on the food truck counter. When all her concentration should’ve been on the noble act Zack had just performed, instead she couldn’t help noticing there was no sign of a wedding ring.
The small group of employees looked over her menu and each made their order. No two alike. Next Zack gave her his—Put a Steak in It, no onions.
“May I have my own wrap, Dad?” Little Emma spoke up.
“Sure, Shortcake.”
His sweet gesture of buying everyone lunch made Lacy’s eyes go glassy, but instead of letting humiliation take over, she got right to work making the best dang batch of wraps she knew how. Being a hand talker, she’d learned over the years she couldn’t talk and prepare food at the same time, so she went quiet. Otherwise, she’d never get anything made. Out of gratitude, when she was finished, she threw in a pie for each of them.
“Coffee’s on me, if you’d like,” she said, as she processed the last order and gave Zack his change. They all obviously appreciated her throwing in the free stuff, but seriously, she’d made a fifty-cup urn of coffee that was going down the drain anyway.
He winked, and she felt twelve again, nearly blushed, too. Which wasn’t right because he was married, and that interchange had been so wrong. As she cleaned the workstation, her stomach twisted with defeat. She’d had such high hopes for this job, and after today’s sorry showing, he probably wouldn’t even invite her back for Wednesday.
Just about ready to give up, she noticed two construction guys moseying over toward her truck. Maybe they were curious after seeing their boss and the office crew get their lunch. They read over her menu and both ordered the steak wrap. If they really liked the food, maybe they’d come back and tell their work friends, too. If she was still there on Wednesday.
Then, as she made their wraps, a couple more guys made their way to her order window. “Ham It Up and Name That Tuna. Got it!”
All it took