LITMIR.BIZ

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a.m. on weekends with closing time at ten p.m. That means I need the morning crew to be here an hour before opening and the evening crew will need to stick around an hour or so after closing to get things ready for the next day.”

      Several eyes shot to Olivia. She kept her face down. Jack looked at her hands, tightly clutching her bag strap. She was squeezing the fiber out of it. Obviously, by the sympathetic looks rallying around her, the new hours would be a hardship on her. But Jack was not about to let his family’s legacy die because one employee had issues with inconvenient hours. He felt firm about it and wise in his decision.

      So why, then, did mercy needle his conscience over Olivia?

      “Guys, I know this is a lot to take in. But it makes the most sense. Okay?”

      Everyone, including Olivia, nodded. But she never looked up. Jack would pull her aside later and privately ask her why she was upset about the hours. He didn’t intend to stress her out. He just wanted to save the family diner and secure Dad’s future. Especially if Sully ended up unable to return to work.

      That would throw Jack’s life into a tailspin. He’d always envisioned himself serving decades in the military before retiring. At this point he still planned on returning to duty once Dad and the diner got back on their feet. He’d wanted to reach twenty years of service. But fate clearly had other ideas. He wished Olivia knew he understood how she felt. Sully’s stroke had sent several lives into chaos. They needed to band together and do what it took to get through this.

      After going over other items of business, Jack concluded the meeting and bought his employees breakfast out of his own pocket. It was the least he could do. None of this was their fault.

      Rather than eat her meal, Olivia slid the tray toward Darin and sprang out of her chair. Jack watched her friends’ concerned, crestfallen expressions as Olivia rushed out the door. Jack tossed Darin the diner keys, called, “Take charge until I return,” and sprinted out the door after her, not even sure why, and convinced he was making a mistake.

      Yet something compelled him to do it anyhow.

      She barely made it to the end of the block before he slowed his pursuit in order not to startle her. She was obviously lost in thought and oblivious to his approach.

      “Miss Abbott?”

      Her steps stuttered but didn’t stop.

      “Please wait. I just need a moment of your time.”

      She paused but didn’t turn around. Her arm came up to swipe across her face—she was crying.

      He stepped close enough to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Olivia.”

      She stiffened at his use of her first name. It had surprised him, too.

      “What?” she said in defeated tones, her back still to him.

      He came around to face her. “Talk to me.”

      She huffed. “There’s no need. I’m fine.”

      “Considering you shot out of the break room like a rodeo bull from a stall, I don’t believe that. Help me understand.”

      She shook her head, clearly exasperated. “There is nothing to understand. I told you, I’m fine.” The involuntary tremor of her eyelid informed him otherwise.

      But she obviously didn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable. He thought back over the meeting and her reactions at certain points, then mapped together possible scenarios.

      “Miss Abbott, what part of the new schedule is a hardship on you? Maybe I can work around the issue.”

      * * *

      That was absolutely not what Olivia expected Jack to say.

      The strain in his voice told her that working around her schedule was going to cause a problem. She already knew that but hadn’t wanted to face up to it. The diner was not in a good place financially. The bank wouldn’t care what reason they gave. If they didn’t get their money, they’d foreclose.

      “The new hours will not be a problem,” she hedged. Even though her weary mind strained toward being open with Jack, she could not.

      It would be selfish to expect the entire restaurant, and by extension the community, Sully and her friends, to arrange their most precious resource of time around her, and she could not bring herself to do it. Not after everything Sully had done for her.

      “It’s a prudent decision given the diner’s debt,” she added.

      “That’s not your problem, though.”

      “And my scheduling conflicts are not yours. So trust me to work it out and I’ll back off on inserting my titanium opinions at future employee meetings. Provided I still have a job.”

      Jack’s lip twitched, as if he were about to crack a smile, probably because she’d so accurately described herself.

      “I haven’t fired anyone. Yet.”

      “I get the feeling Perry’s the period on the end of that statement.”

      Jack’s jaw clenched. “He’s irresponsible, insubordinate, rebellious and inconsiderate. Not to mention far from dependable. I have gone above and beyond to teach and warn him.”

      True. But that Jack would actually fire him rankled, even though she respected his rationale. The day crew stuck together like glue.

      “You resent me.”

      Was that a question or a statement?

      Yes, she resented him a little. He wasn’t Sully.

      Yet maybe that was exactly why Perry got away with so much. Sully had let stuff slide.

      Apparently a lot of stuff.

      Jack shifted and checked his watch. She hated that they were still clashing, but there was something about him that set off the worst and weakest aspects of her character. Not to mention that the last thing she wanted was for such a strong man to see her fragile and upset.

      She raised her chin to try to be more tough and convincing.

      He examined her in that probing way of his.

      “If you need special consideration—”

      “I do not.” She’d just have to suck it up, nap when she could, study harder and pray her guts out for God to help her understand the things she read in her brick-thick medical books. Once she learned something, she had impeccable recall, but it was the initial challenge of getting the data in, and her brain’s ability to comprehend it, that was the struggle. Even her dyslexia could be contended with. The comprehension problem that was aggravated by lack of sleep? Not so much.

      Olivia sat at a crossroads, literally. As Jack waited patiently, peering at cars whizzing by, she knew she had a choice to make. And it wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was probably the hardest thing she’d ever have to do—concede defeat and come clean.

      She had to succeed in her goals, and if that meant eventually breaking down and sharing her disability with her new boss, she’d do it in order to keep herself from failing the EMT program. But she wouldn’t tell him until absolutely necessary. He had enough to worry about without her neediness. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden.

      He gestured to a sidewalk bench between two Bradford pear trees. “Please, sit a moment.”

      With gritted teeth, she said, “I’d rather not. Please forgive my emotional outburst and abrupt exodus from the meeting, Mr. Sullenberger. Now, really, I must be going.”

      Mainly because the earnest care in his eyes was starting to get to her.

      “Please, call me Jack. May I call you Olivia?” A corner of his mouth curled into a smirk-lined smile, acknowledging that he hadn’t exactly waited for her permission on that front.

      The joking tone and flash of amusement in his eyes surprised her. She hadn’t figured him as the

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