Well, shoot.

From her tiny table for one wedged against the window in the far corner of the Spotted Hen, Grace took a sip of water and watched Nate give the attractive, dark-haired woman in the parking lot a hug. The kind that came naturally between people who were well acquainted.

Very well acquainted.

So much for all her romantic fantasies.

Propping her chin in her palm, she continued to observe them as the two disengaged, the woman drove away, and Nate remained in place, watching until she disappeared.

As if he wished she hadn’t left.

Grace sighed, spirits plummeting as the tough-talking, buck-up internal drill sergeant that had gotten her through other difficult situations kicked in.

Get over it, girl. Chalk it up to a major lapse in your usually reliable signal-reading skills. You’ll live. Someone else will come along.

Yeah, but when? She wasn’t getting any younger. The big three-oh had come and gone last winter. If she wanted a family someday, the clock was ticking.

“Have you decided what to order?”

As Jolene spoke, Grace redirected her attention to the menu. “No. I was, uh, distracted.”

Jolene squinted out the window. “Oh. Nate’s still here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Great guy. Do you work with him often?”

“No.” Grace took a sip of water. “As a matter of fact, we only met a couple of weeks ago.”

“No kidding?” Jolene pulled out her order pad. “I’d think in your line of work you two would be bosom buddies.”

If only.

“I have more contact with the coroner.”

“Makes sense, I suppose.” Jolene peered out the window again as Nate crossed the lot and slid behind the wheel of his Jeep. “I hope everything’s okay with him.”

“Why wouldn’t it be, after having dinner with a very pretty woman?”

Jolene pulled the pencil from behind her ear. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t know that I should say. A body hears—and overhears—all sorts of conversations in this job. We waitresses are invisible to customers, you know. It’s like being a fly on the wall. You have to learn to stay mum and be discreet.”

“I see what you mean.” Even if she wished the woman would bend her rules tonight.

“Are you ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?”

“No.” Grace skimmed the menu and handed it to the waitress. “I’ll have the meat loaf special that’s on the board.”

“Can’t go wrong with that.” She jotted the order on her pad. “So how goes the job?”

“No complaints.”

“You’re a rare one. Most people find a ton of stuff to whine about. But I’m with you. I like my job. An interesting cast of characters crosses my path every day.”

“Mine too.”

“But mine talk to me.” She gave her a wink and an elbow nudge, then grew more serious. “I sure was sorry to hear about your car. They ever track down the culprits?”