The Father of Her Son. Kathleen Pickering

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      A bearded man next to Matt guffawed.

      Her son looked mortified. “Mom!”

      Evan drummed his fingers on the counter to a silent beat, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Matt. Instead of his usual retort, he simply stated, “If you knew what I had planned, you’d give me the whole pig.”

      She turned to face him, planting fists on hips. “What are you up to, Evan?”

      He tapped his breast pocket. “Got something here I’m willing to share to celebrate the interview, despite the fact you missed the show. It all depends on whether you can get a babysitter for Matt.”

      “Mrs. Walsh will watch me!” Matt seemed to know what Evan had planned.

      Reaching into the breast pocket of the impeccable navy suit, Evan slid two tickets across the counter. “Front row seats to Billy Elliot.”

      She couldn’t help but grin. He must have overheard her telling Bunny yesterday that Billy Elliot was the one Broadway show she wanted to see this season. Temptation tugged, but a clearer head removed its silly hand. Nothing would be sweeter than a few hours’ escape into another world, not to mention Evan’s grin seemed to be doing silly things to her heart, which to her surprise, puttered a tad faster in her chest.

      It didn’t matter. Kelly wouldn’t accept the offer. Not only was Evan not her type, there was no room in her plans for a relationship. A boyfriend would only distract her from raising her son. Dating would remove her from the diner for which she was eternally grateful and planned to make more successful than Herby could ever imagine. And lastly, what she was least willing to acknowledge, was that she had never dated...anyone.

      She met Evan’s hopeful gaze with a grin. “Nice try, Evan. Won’t happen.”

      “Oh, Mom.” Matt’s disappointment was palpable.

      “And, I don’t appreciate you tangling Matt into your shenanigans.”

      Evan ignored her. “Look closer. Row One. Center.”

      She pushed the creamer and sugar toward Evan from its place by the napkin box. “I said, no. Now, be a nice patron and eat quickly. I have a busy morning ahead of me.”

      Bunny passed Kelly and stopped when she saw the tickets. Two full plates in hand, she looked from the tickets to Kelly. “Billy Elliot? Are you going?”

      Kelly laughed out loud at her trusted manager, who had no trouble waiting tables when the morning, lunch or dinner rush began. “No, Bunny. You and Evan both know I do not date.”

      Bunny nodded once, then flashed Evan a saucy glance. “Right, then. I’ll be happy to go with you if she’s too lame-brained to go.”

      If Evan was disappointed that Kelly turned him down—yet again, he didn’t show it. This was his eighth try in as many weeks to ask her out. Yet he grinned, shaking his head.

      “Well then, ladies. It looks as though you two should take each other. The show starts at nine. The dinner rush should be over by then.”

      The women exchanged looks. Even though Kelly had sabotaged his interview, Evan still asked her out. Rebuffed again, he was surrendering the tickets. The man was either a fool, a glutton for punishment or uncommonly generous. Something about the playful and confident look in his eyes both intoxicated and unnerved her. For her own security, Kelly needed to be in control when it came to men—but she had to do something. After all, Evan was a friend.

      “Then you must let me pay for the tickets.”

      Evan pushed the tickets back and called to Bunny as she planted the overflowing plates before two businessmen at the other end of the counter. “Take your boss out tonight, Bun. She looks like she could use a break.”

      Wiping her hands on her apron, Bunny rushed back to scoop up the tickets before Kelly could change her mind. “Absolutely. It’s Tuesday. Quiet enough for us both to escape. Thanks, Evan!”

      Kelly mustered a smile. “Yes. Thank you, Evan. You are way too kind.”

      She ducked behind the heat-shield window to catch her best cook’s eye from the line of three who ran the morning grill. “Be sure you use the sweetest peppers in his-self’s potatoes. He is eating for free this morning.”

      The burly man, sporting a skull and crossbones earring, winked in return. “They’re ready.”

      Kelly retrieved Evan’s plate and refilled his coffee mug.

      Evan tapped the deep sea-green granite countertop; the one major extravagance Kelly made when renovating the diner. “You enjoy the show tonight. Don’t mind me. I’ll just drown my rejection in Jake’s free, down-home Louisiana cooking.”

      She reached under the counter for her ever-present Nikon and snapped a photo of Evan in sheer bliss at Jake’s superb cooking. Smiling to herself, she said, “That’ll be a keeper.”

      He swallowed his food. “You certainly are a beautiful sight with a camera for a nose, Kelly Sullivan. I think you missed your calling.”

      She gestured to the wall of framed photos she’d taken of patrons eating her food. “I think it’s time your mug took front and center on the Wall of Fame. Don’t you think?”

      “Ahh, I thought you’d never offer!”

      Matt had grown bored with their conversation and slid off his stool. A booth just outside Kelly’s office was designated as the rest station for family and staff. Matt tugged on Evan’s jacket and pointed to the booth. “Wanna play with my Lego?”

      Evan actually looked disappointed. “Sorry, Matt-man. I have to get back to the office. How about we’ll build a spaceship next time?”

      “Okay. I’m gonna start mine now!”

      Kelly watched him climb into the booth beneath a large framed photo of her and Matt, taken by holding the camera at arm’s length. She smiled. “Again, Evan, thank you for the theater tickets. I hope to repay the gesture one day.”

      He wiped his plate with a chunk of bread. “Dinner with me on Saturday night will work wonders to assuage my damaged pride.” The way one eyebrow arched to complement that crooked, playful smile made her stomach flip-flop.

      “But, you know...”

      He interrupted before she finished her worn-out declaration of no dating. “It’s not a date. It’s dinner for Matt for his birthday.”

      The cable man appeared through the door. Bunny glanced her way before leading the man to the back corner of the building.

      Guilt tugged on Kelly like an anchor around her neck as she watched the cable guy disappear into her office. Evan had easily forgiven her for not airing his show this morning, but from his excitement yesterday over snagging that interview with the awful Buzz Campbell, not supporting him had hurt Evan even if the circumstance did appear out of her control. She’d have to make amends this time simply to allay her own guilty feelings.

      She swallowed hard. “It’s Tuesday, Evan. Do I have to give you an answer now?”

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