Margaret came to our table. “How do you find the food, dear?”
I smiled widely at her. “I haven’t eaten food this good in a long time.” That was not a lie. The food I ate had all the goodness of a homemade breakfast. I can cook, but since I live with my father, I limit my whereabouts to just my room and the gate. I only venture to the other parts of the house, such as the kitchen, when he’s out of the country. “I like your place. I wonder why I never went here before.”
“Well, we barely get visitors from the main city. Most of our customers are just passing through. And we try our best to provide them with the feeling of home and the goodness of homemade food.” She noticed my shirt. “I see you found our bathroom.”
I nodded. “It’s brilliant! What you did in there was absolutely amazing.”
“Well, it was all Nick’s idea.”
I blinked back in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“He was the one who gave us the idea to turn this diner into something it is now. We’ve been running this joint for generations, and I thought it was going to shut down. I was afraid I would retire seeing it burned down to the ground.”
“Really?”
Margaret nodded. “Nicholas came here often when he was building his house. He helped us get it back up and make it a refuge for the lost. It also provided an opportunity for us older people to feel that we still have a purpose. A place where opportunities are equal,” she said, looking at the two little waitresses laughing with their customers while taking their orders.
I could not believe what I heard.
Nicholas? Seriously?
“The place is very well-maintained. It still looks brand new. And the interior design is amazing,” I said.
“Again, that’s Nicholas.” Margaret beamed. “We could not afford to renovate. Then he came here one night and told us he won big at a poker tournament and he would donate the money for the restoration of this place. He also designed the place.”
“He did?” I asked.
She blinked back at me. “You didn’t know he’s an architect?”
I tried my best to hide my surprise. “I’ve known him for a short time.”
She smiled widely, looking like a proud grandmother. “He’s very young. He graduated from school early. And he’s brilliant at what he does. You saw what he did to his house, right?”
“He… he’s the architect of his house?”
Margaret nodded. “That young man will go places. He may have humble beginnings, but you know he’s going somewhere, someday.”
“If he doesn’t squander all his earnings in gambling, that is,” I retorted, but I immediately regretted saying that in front of Margaret. She sounded genuinely proud of Nicholas.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said. “Nicholas is not a hopeless gambler.”
“But… but you said he won the money that he used to repair this place.”
She nodded. “Yes. Nicholas happens to be very good at poker and some card games. He has the skills for gambling but not the love for it. There’s a difference. And whatever he wins, he spends for a cause.”
Nicholas returned to our seat. “I hope you guys are not gossiping about me.”
Margaret laughed. “No. But I was telling your friend here a few things about you.”
I thought Nicholas was blushing. “Oh, it doesn’t matter what Margaret says to you. You already know what to believe about me, right?” He was grinning, so I couldn’t tell if he was offended by the fact that I would never see him in a better light.
I shrugged. “Yep. No way I’m gonna change my opinion of you, man,” I said with a grin on my face.
Nicholas turned to Margaret and gave her a couple of bills.
“Boy, this is more than your tab,” Margaret protested.
“Make it as usual. Suspended coffee,” Nicholas said.
Margaret smiled at him. “You are an angel.” Then she turned to the man in the cashier. “Rollo, additional five suspended coffees courtesy of Nick this week.”
Wow! Is this guy for real?
One of the little guys brought paper bags to our table. “Here you go, Nick. Twenty burgers to go, as usual.”
“Thanks, Luc.” Nicholas stood up and gathered the bags in his hand.
I smiled at Margaret. “I had a lovely time. I will certainly come back and encourage my friends to visit.”
“That would be wonderful, sweetheart. We would love to have you again.”
I followed Nicholas to his car quietly. I was still trying to absorb the shock I had when Margaret told me all the things about him.
Nicholas, the philanthropist? I didn’t see that coming.
“You don’t mind if we stop by my friends’ place to deliver the burgers, do you?” he asked.
“You’re sure this is the last stopover?” I asked.
He chuckled. “I promise.”
“Fine. Drive on.”
***
We drove to the rundown part of the city. This site was known for gangs and street fights. Not many people I know would ever venture to this part because of the reputation of the people who lived here.
I started getting worried. And Nicholas had to drive using a top-down jeep, with absolutely no protection.
“Are we in the right place?” I asked.
“Why, are you scared?” he asked back, amusement all over his voice.
I am! But no way was I going to admit that to Nicholas Atkins!
I cleared my throat. “Of… of course not.”
“Then yes, we are in the right place,” he replied. I was pretty sure he was holding back the urge to laugh at me. I wanted to hit him badly on the head.
Nicholas parked in front of a basketball court. He took the bags from the back of his car and walked toward the court, looking back to ensure that I was following him.
A group of teenage boys stopped playing basketball when they saw us coming. One kid approached us. He had tan skin and black hair in dreadlocks.
“You’re late!” he said to Nicholas crossly.
“I know, man. I have a life too, you know.”
“Who’s that?” the boy asked, looking at me.
“My friend, Ken Clarke. Be nice, okay?”
“Depends. Do you have our breakfast?”
“Do I ever forget?” Nicholas handed him the bag. Almost instantly, the other boys approached the kid Nicholas was speaking to as he distributed the burgers to them.
“Okay, I’ll leave you, boys, to it,” he said, motioning to me that it was time to go.
“What? You’re not going to join our match today?” a kid with carrot-colored hair asked in a disappointed tone.
“Nope,” Nicholas replied. “Not today. I have company, and we need to get going.”
“Why, your friend is too rich to play with us?”
I turned back to the kids and raised a brow. “Excuse me?” I asked. I couldn’t help but feel offended.
Nicholas held me by the arm and said, “Let it go, Ken. They’re just a bunch of kids.”
“Or too chicken?” Another boy asked. Clearly, they were provoking me.
“Maybe you couldn’t handle a ball.”
“Sure, I could,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. Isabella built a half-court in our backyard, and I have been playing basketball since I was ten. I may not be Dream Team material, but I can shoot a few hoops.
“Then, show us. You and Nick can play. Loser pays for lunch.”
“Hey, I already paid for breakfast,” Nicholas argued.
“Fine. Then maybe your friend here can pay for our lunch,” the redhead kid said.
“Boys, leave Ken alone. We need to go. I can come back and play with you later.”
The boys went quiet. They stared at me with narrowed eyes, and I knew they were judging me, scrutinizing the weird color of my hair and my unusual outfit. I didn’t care. My father does the same thing every time he looks at me. We turned our backs to them and started walking toward Nicholas’ jeep.
“Pussy!” I heard somebody whisper behind me.