Gone With the Nerd (Nerds, #4)(19)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

The smells of the ancient diner registered immediately as Flynn held the door open for Zoe. He’d spent many hours in a cafe like this back in high school because there had been no other place in the small mining town to hang out.

Years of cooking grease and cigarette smoke had settled into the plaster and the cracked vinyl upholstery. If anyone ever created an aromatherapy candle labeled Greasy Spoon, it would smell like this.

Flynn kind of liked it, but he didn’t see the Sasquatch Diner as Zoe’s kind of place. On a high shelf behind the counter stood football trophies and photos of an earlier, more prosperous Long Shaft. But the pictures and trophies took a backseat to the Bigfoot souvenirs—mugs, key chains, T-shirts, stuffed animals, and bumper stickers. Twenty years ago Flynn would have bought one of each.

A handful of customers were in the diner, and they all looked up when Flynn and Zoe walked in. Silence reigned for a couple of beats, and then everyone returned their attention to their plate, coffee mug, or conversation. Everyone, that is, except Margo, who came rushing out from behind the counter.

Besides a black vinyl miniskirt and her UGG boots, she wore a tight T-shirt in hot pink with the diner’s logo on the front. It featured a scary-looking Bigfoot about to bite into an overstuffed hamburger. Flynn had the insane urge to buy a T-shirt for Zoe as a memento of the weekend.

Yeah, like she’d ever wear it. It wouldn’t even work as her nerd outfit for the audition. Vera wasn’t a T-shirt-wearing type of woman.

But Zoe was, he realized with a start, even if she hadn’t figured that out yet. She might think she was strictly Rodeo Drive, but after seeing her in the Einstein sweatshirt, he could picture her lounging around her Malibu beach house wearing a Sasquatch Diner T-shirt and short shorts.

Yes, short shorts, even though last night and today she’d been wearing sweats. This was his fantasy, and in his fantasy he wanted to see her legs. He was truly pathetic.

As Margo came toward them, her permed hair caught up in a side ponytail, she looked perky enough to break into a cheer routine at any minute.

"Hi there!" Margo glanced at Zoe. "Great outfit!"

Zoe lowered her voice. "Flynn thinks it might be a little overdone."

"Nah. You know what you’re doing. Did you come to eat?"

Zoe nodded. "And we need to check with you about something."

"Sure, sure. Take this booth over here." Margo ushered them to a place by a grimy window that looked out on the street. "I’ll get you some menus."

As Flynn sat down, the ancient wood creaked.

Zoe took the opposite seat and leaned toward him. "Not exactly five-star dining," she murmured.

"Still want to eat here?"

"Are you kidding? Nothing that comes out of that kitchen could possibly be worse than last night’s spaghetti."

"Not that I’m agreeing with you, but I thought I’d go find a grocery store before we leave and see if they have any microwave dinners."

"Flynn, there’s no microwave. I checked."

"Most of those meals can be cooked in a regular oven, too."

Margo bustled over and slapped a laminated menu down in front of each of them. "Here you go! Fiona’s in a good mood, so feel free to order any of the breakfast items."

Flynn caught sight of a dark-haired woman wearing a hairnet, peering out the kitchen door. It wasn’t her fault that she had an angular face that made her look sinister, but Flynn was less enthusiastic about the meal after a glimpse of Fiona. "What happens if the cook’s not in a good mood?"

"You’re better off with the cornflakes. But as I mentioned last night, we’re in that grace period right after the full moon, so we have blueberry cobbler, Fiona’s willing to make anything on the menu, and her hubby got his monthly ration of sex. Which reminds me, have you tried the cobbler yet?"

Flynn said "No" at the same time Zoe said "Yes."

"So you’ve had some, Zoe?" Margo looked pleased.

"Uh-huh." Zoe glanced at Flynn. "But not much."

"Oh, come on, Zoe. Indulge yourself and have a regular serving when you get back. My Bob adores that cobbler. Trust me, you won’t find anything like it in LA. Fiona has a gift."

Flynn thought of how the disposal had foamed up when he’d run the cobbler through it. Maybe the cobbler was as terrific as Margo said, but he was still suspicious, and just as glad they hadn’t eaten any of it. Fiona’s full-moon cooking jag was plain weird.

"I’ll eat more tonight," Zoe said. "But we need to talk to you about the bees under the porch. A whole hive of them."

Margo frowned. "How annoying."

"More than annoying," Flynn said. "She’s allergic."

"Uh-oh. I didn’t know that."

Zoe laughed. "I’m always so worried about the stories that show up in the Enquirer, thinking everybody sees them, but I guess they don’t. Flynn didn’t know about the bee allergy, either. It was a big story about two years ago. I had a pretty bad reaction."

"Then we have to get rid of those bees. I’ll get right on it. And I’m really glad you didn’t get stung. So can I bring you coffee while you’re deciding what to order? Juice?"

"Coffee sounds great," Flynn said.

"Be right back." Margo hustled off.

Zoe consulted the menu. "Eggs Benedict," Zoe said with reverence. "That sounds so good, but I’d better not."

"You’d better." Flynn adjusted his glasses and peered at the menu. "That’s what I’m having. No telling where our next meal is coming from, or how it will taste. This may be our one and only restaurant outing. The more we come in here, the more likely somebody will recognize you."

"I guess you’re right." Zoe pushed her menu aside. "Maybe I’ll go for a run in the woods later."

"I could go with you."

Her eyebrows lifted. "You run?"

"Of course I run. It’s a law in Southern California. Last week I saw two people arrested for not running."

Zoe smiled at him. "You’re a funny guy. I never realized that before. So do you really run, or are you making that up?"

"I really run. Listen, I don’t think you should smile while we’re in the restaurant."

"Why not? Do I have something stuck in my teeth?"

"No. But that smile is famous. You could create the perfect disguise, but once you smile, I think people will recognize you."

"That’s silly." She did it again. "My smile looks like everyone else’s."

"Nope."

"It does. I have lips and teeth and gums. Nothing special."

"That’s not true. You may have the same components, but the way they’re arranged is very special. You knock people out with that smile."

She gazed at him for a long moment. "Tell me about Kristen’s smile."

He knew what she was doing and he should appreciate it. "It’s nice." He couldn’t picture it right now, but he was sure she had a nice smile.

"What does she look like?"

"Oh, brown hair, about five-six, a hundred and twenty-five pounds."

"That sounds like the info on her driver’s license. What does she look like?"

He knew what Zoe was after. She expected him to rave about how beautiful Kristen was, how he adored her lips, her eyes, her everything. Instead, he was horrified to discover he couldn’t do that. Sure, she was attractive, and a man in love would call her beautiful without being prodded. He needed to rethink this Kristen business, and soon.

"She’s athletic," he said. "She runs, too." It was something they shared. They had so much in common, so why couldn’t he be more excited about her?

"Interesting." Zoe’s gaze was speculative. "I’m probably stereotyping, but I didn’t think …" She paused as if revising what she’d been about to say.

"That nerds would run?" he finished, pretty sure that’s what she’d had in mind. And he would pursue that topic, because he didn’t want to continue discussing Kristen’s attributes and give himself away.

Zoe shrugged. "I thought physical exercise wasn’t all that important, that mental gymnastics were the whole deal."

"Exercise didn’t used to be important, but after I hit thirty, I realized that if I didn’t do something, I was asking for health problems. I do it to avoid medical bills."

"I see." Rummaging in her purse, she pulled out the pad she’d used last night to take notes while he was unpacking.

"What?"

"I’m starting to get the nerd mentality." She jotted down a few things on the pad. "It’s not so much what you do as why you do it. I run because I want to have a killer body. You run to avoid future medical bills. Your reasons are pure logic, and mine are pure emotion. Ego, to be exact." She finished writing and glanced up. "Am I on target?"

"I think you’re being too hard on yourself." Damn. As uninterested as he was in Kristen right now, he was totally fascinated by Zoe. She looked outlandishly cute in her wild outfit and glasses as she made notes on nerd behavior. "Running to get a killer body is part of your job," he said. "People expect you to look amazing, so you have to oblige."

"But I also like looking amazing. That’s ego. Even if I weren’t…" She lowered her voice as one of the customers walked by on his way to the cash register. "Even if I weren’t in this profession, I’d want a good body."

Twinges of a sexual response alerted Flynn to the need for a different topic. "Margo must have a local person in mind for the bees. She didn’t say anything about calling Sacramento."

"No, she didn’t. So maybe—" Zoe stopped talking as Margo arrived with their coffee and a bowl full of cream packets.

"Have you decided?" She set down the mugs and the cream.

"Eggs Benedict for both of us," Flynn said.

"Coming right up. And the bees should be gone when you get back. Somebody’s headed out there now to take a look."

"That’s fabulous," Zoe said. "Thanks, Margo."

"Yes, thank you." Flynn had to admit that Zoe’s unlikely friend was coming through in the crunch.

He was starting to realize that life wasn’t quite as neat and tidy as he’d like it to be. At first he’d thought Margo wasn’t Zoe’s type, but she might turn out to be the perfect friend for Zoe. And as much as he wanted to be in love with Kristen because she was everything he wanted and needed in a woman, he wasn’t in love with her.

Instead he was becoming obsessed with Zoe, which was completely impractical. She’d never in a million years want a long-term relationship with her token nerd. But he seemed to have no choice about his lust. He’d always scoffed at the idea of being buffeted by out-of-control emotions, and yet that was the situation here in Long Shaft.

He remembered her comment before they’d come into the diner. What happens in Long Shaft stays in Long Shaft. He’d thought she’d meant it as a joke. What if she’d meant it as an invitation? And what if he accepted?

Chapter Fourteen

The eggs Benedict were runny, the sauce tasted like glue, the ham turned out to be Spam, and the English muffin underneath it all required a steak knife. Zoe ate it anyway, because she couldn’t have done better and she needed the protein. To compensate she drank gallons of coffee, which was the best thing about the meal.

Flynn doctored his eggs Benedict with ketchup.

I can’t believe how gross that looks," Zoe said. "Like your meal is hemorrhaging."

"Ketchup is the answer to any culinary problem."

Zoe drained her coffee mug. "Maybe we should have ordered the cornflakes."

"If we have to do that, we might as well buy a box at the store when we get the microwave meals."

"Good idea. After tasting the eggs Benedict, I’m really glad you put the cobbler down the disposal."

"Me, too. I didn’t tell you, but it made the disposal foam up. No telling what was in that stuff."

"Yuck." Zoe still felt guilty that she had lied about eating it, but Flynn might have saved her from a serious stomachache. "Well, I’ve had enough coffee to float a battleship, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a trip."

"Don’t smile at anybody on the way there. We’ve collected our share of looks from the other customers. I think several of them are trying to place you."

"I doubt it We’re strangers in town. That’s all it is." She stood up and walked to the back of the diner where a sign pointed to the restrooms. Sure, customers glanced her way as she passed, but part of that might be her outfit. She should have worn something that didn’t poke out a person’s eye. Apparently it was possible to overdisguise yourself.

On the way out of the bathroom she found Margo standing by the door.

"I wanted to talk to you for a minute," Margo said.

"Sure." Time for more lies. "By the way, what a great breakfast!"

"Glad you liked it." Margo nodded as if she’d expected the praise.

"Listen, as long as we have a private moment, do you think anybody’s starting to recognize me? Flynn’s worried about it. He seems to think people are staring, but I said it’s only because we’re strangers in town."

"It’s because they think you’re a hooker."

"A what?" Zoe backed up a step.

"Joe Pasternak from down at the gas station overheard you say that even if you weren’t in this profession, you’d want to have a killer body. He decided you were a prostitute."

Zoe groaned. "Lovely."

"I told him you weren’t, but I fumbled around trying to come up with a different story, so he still thinks so. He’s spread the word."

"I suppose it doesn’t matter. It’s better than having them find out who I am."

"Well, Syd from the trading post did mention that you looked like Zoe Tarleton, only sleazier. So you probably have to be careful."

"I know." Zoe glanced back to where Flynn was sitting. "I might have made a mistake coming in here, but we didn’t have your work number, and I thought it would be fun to come and see the diner." She wasn’t going to admit she couldn’t cook.

"Yeah, it’s a pretty cool little diner. Did you see my picture on the wall?"