Grace was thinking of making a motion for chocolate cupcakes next. Jan, the owner of Eat Me, had refused to let them meet over cake anymore, so the Chocoholics had switched to brownies. Since then, meeting over chocolate cake had become habit-until they'd accidentally destroyed the inside of the diner in a certain candle incident that wasn't to be discussed. With no electricity and a downed tree blocking their escape, the three of them had spent a few scary hours soothing their nerves by eating their way through a very large chocolate cake. That same night, she'd gotten stuck in this very diner during a freak snowstorm with two strangers. Leaving the offer on the table, she'd gotten into her car and driven as far as the tank of gas could take her, ending up in the little Washington State beach town of Lucky Harbor. "Chocoholics unite."įour months ago, Grace had come west from New York for a Seattle banking job, until she'd discovered that putting out for the boss was part of the deal. Good as her word, she soon reappeared with a tray of steaming hot chocolate and big, fluffy chocolate pancakes. She'd slept poorly, worrying about money. "Actually, I was thinking hot chocolate," Grace said, fighting a yawn. The tough-girl ensemble was softened by the bright pink EAT ME apron she was forced to wear while waitressing. "Hey, it's happy hour somewhere." This from their third musketeer, Amy, who was wearing a black tee, a black denim skirt with lots of zippers, and kickass boots.
Mallory, in wrinkled scrubs, just coming off an all-night shift at the ER, snorted as she crawled into the booth as well. Tired, edgy, and scared that she was never going to get her life on the happy track, Grace Brooks dropped into the back booth of the diner and sagged against the red vinyl seat.
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