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Jess?”
    Mike seemed taken aback by the question. “My daughter,” he said eventually. “She’s six. Most people call her Jessie.”
    Memories of Jeremy and his silence on the subject of his very real family slammed into her. “When were you planning on telling me about her?” she asked tightly.
    His gaze narrowed. “It’s not as if she’s a secret. Most people in town know I have a child.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Okay, then, now you know. I have a daughter.”
    “And a wife?”
    “No,” he said tersely, almost as visibly tense now as Melanie was. “Let’s talk about something else.”
    “Such as?”
    “Boston and why you ran away from it,” he suggested.
    Melanie immediately saw what he was doing. She had her off-limits topics and so did he. She couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that she at least needed to know if Jess’s mother was completely out of the picture or not.
    “One last question and I’ll get off the subject of your personal life, okay?”
    He gave her a grim look. “You can ask, but I reserve the right not to answer.”
    “Are you and Jess’s mother divorced?”
    “Yes.”
    Relief, out of all proportion given the circumstances, flooded through her. Whatever secrets Mike had about his family, at least she knew they weren’t likely to come back and bite her in the butt the way Jeremy’s had. Of course, the tension in his shoulders and the dark shadows in his eyes suggested there were things he was hiding.
    So what? she chided herself. It wasn’t as if she were dating the man. This was a casual lunch with a near stranger who’d offered to save her from another lonely meal. Nothing more. She was only here for a few weeks, anyway. Nothing would come of it, even if she were inclined to let another man into her life—which she wasn’t.
    The burgers arrived just then. Brenda plunked Melanie’s down with a little less care than she did Mike’s. It also looked suspiciously as if it had been deliberately burned to a crisp. Melanie put ketchup and mustard on it without comment.
    “Trade with me,” Mike said at once, his expression grim.
    She stared at him. “Why? You didn’t order yours burned, either.”
    “No, but yours came that way because of me. I’ll eat it.”
    “Mike, it’s okay. Really.” She bit into the burger to prove the point, then chewed the tough-as-leather meat as if it were the best she’d ever eaten.
    He sighed, then looked around till he caught Brenda’s eye. “Brenda, there’s a little problem here. Melanie’s burger is beyond well done. She ordered medium rare. So, since we’re both on a schedule, here’s what we’ll do. Her meal is going to be on the house, okay? And the next time I bring her in here, you’re going to go out of your way to see that her food is prepared exactly the way she orders it.”
    Melanie wasn’t sure whether her mouth or Brenda’s dropped more, but they were both obviously startled by Mike’s deadly serious tone.
    “You think I did that on purpose?” Brenda demanded, using indignation rather effectively.
    “I know you did.”
    “I’m not the cook,” she reminded him.
    “But you do write the tickets, and Boomer wouldn’t do a thing on that grill except what you tell him to do,” Mike said. “He knows you’ll fire him otherwise.”
    Brenda forced a tight smile and turned to Melanie. “Sorry about the mix-up. The lunch is on me.”
    “That’s not necessary,” Melanie began, only to have Mike interrupt.
    “Oh, yes, it is,” he said. “Brenda wants all of her regular customers to go away happy, don’t you?”
    “I pride myself on it,” Brenda said, not looking any too happy herself.
    “Thank you, then,” Melanie said graciously. “I know anyone can have an off day in the kitchen. I’m sure that’s what happened here.”
    “Exactly,” Brenda said, seizing on the proffered out. “Boomer’s a little distracted today, that’s all it is. I’d better go have a talk with him.”
    After she’d gone,