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efficient of you,” he said, impressed.
     
    “Thank you. The people of Rootsville are perpetually in a hurry, and usually for good reason. So, it’s important to offer fast service. That’s one of the reasons why people love this diner so much.”
     
    “Oh, they don’t love it for your beautiful smile?”
     
    She gulped and laughed nervously. “To the townsfolk, I’m still the little kid that worked under her parents.”
     
    “Well, that’s a shame,” he flirted. “I suppose they can’t see the gorgeous woman behind the ‘good girl’ image you portray.”
     
    “Hey, now!” she exclaimed, her voice lightening. “I am definitely not a ‘good girl.’ I’ll have you know that I can be very bad in many ways.”
     
    His tone turned challenging as he ran his finger up her arm, “Oh yeah? Prove it, then.”
     
    “You need to get to work. The clock is ticking,” she said breathlessly.
     
    He stared deep into her eyes for several moments, then slowly moved away – disappearing into the kitchen to begin working. What she would have given to press her lips deeply against his in that moment.
     
    Unfortunately, she had to start working before the hungry customers rolled in through the doors. Although the customers were most likely not yet awake, her employees definitely were. She spotted several cars pull up into parking spots and halt, exhaust fuming from the tail pipes. Each one of her waiters and waitresses were doing different pre-work tasks in their cars. She felt as though the way one acted before work said a lot about the person.
     
    Gwen, for example, sat in her pink, nondescript convertible car with a face full of makeup, looking as though she had already applied it hours earlier – with her top priority being to look great. Jasmine knew that Gwen had self-esteem problems from her arrogant attitude that was easily deflated by a small amount of stress.
     
    In her car, her head was glued to her phone as she giggled at an unheard compliment from her latest boy-toy. In the car next to her, a plain Honda Civic, sat Brooke who, contrary to Gwen, had not yet applied any makeup. Jasmine watched as the young woman applied a coat of mascara, started to apply another coat, but then got bored and pushed her makeup aside.
     
    A big-wheeled SUV sat nearby with Trevor, her only male waiter at the moment. He looked frazzled and was quickly shoving a breakfast bar in his face. If Jasmine had to guess, he had probably awoken only moments before, throwing on his uniform and driving to work.
     
    Finally, the last car currently in the lot was a small and cute Mini Cooper, driven by her newest waitress, Abby. Abby was sitting up straight, taking deep breaths and practicing a speech in her car mirror. Jasmine smiled. She loved her little café family.
     
    Speaking of family, she suddenly heard a loud thump from the upstairs bedroom. Thinking quickly, she sprinted through the apartment door and up the stairs to the living room. She stormed through Calvin’s room and found him on the floor. He was crumpled face first into the carpeting below his bed, as he must have fallen when he tried to get up. Sighing, she started to lift him up gently by the arm, but he pushed her away.
     
    “No,” he said, annoyed. “I’ve got it myself.”
     
    “You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk last night. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you call me?” she asked, still struggling to lift him up.
     
    “Jasmine, stop!” he yelled. “You have got to stop. I don’t want you to help me. I don’t even want you around. I just deal with you because you took me in when I needed you – which was very nice of you, but I don’t owe you anymore.”
     
    “What?” she gasped, tears instantly forming in her eyes. “What do you mean? Of course you don’t owe me. I love you and I just want to help you.”
     
    “You tried to help me by telling me to join the military, remember? Look how that turned out. Look what you did to