“How’re you doing today?” he asks.
The question throws me off. Most people just order. “Uh, can’t complain. You?”
The man’s grin widens. “Day’s getting better by the moment.”
“Oh, um…” I don’t know what to say to that. It feels like he’s maybe flirting with me. Which I’m sure he isn’t, but just the idea of it is making me feel guilty.
Which is stupid. I don’t have a boyfriend.
My brain flashes back to that night, when there was a man sharing my couch, and it makes me want to bang my head on the counter because that intruder certainly isn’t my boyfriend. He was probably a criminal. And he certainly hasn’t spared me a thought since that day.
When the man continues to stare at me, I give an awkward smile and gesture to the sign with the daily specials. “What can I get for you?”
He glan
