A Dash of Romance. Elizabeth Harbison
this point the short-order cook, Hap, poked his head out of the window from the kitchen. “Then why are you in here all the time, you big lug?” he asked with a bright, red-faced smile.
Dick gave a grumpy shrug and turned his eyes back to the racing section of the newspaper. “Close to home.”
Hap chuckled. “Customer’s a customer, I guess. No matter why they come in.”
“So why do you think Warren Harker comes in here?” Rose asked him. “I mean, the guy’s as rich as Croesus. He could eat anywhere. He could hire an entire cooking staff to be on call twenty-four hours. Why come to a little place like this, no matter how good the food is?”
“You think he doesn’t like the food here?” Stu asked, frowning.
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering if there’s some other reason he comes here.” Not that she could think of one. If he hadn’t been coming all along, she’d have worried that he was so angry about what happened at his party that he came here to get her fired, but she knew no one was that petty. No one except Marta.
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