Sharing A Table

Still yawning, Libby pulled her hair into it's usual pony tail, even as she started down the stairs at Millie's. Man, she needed coffee! And some breakfast!

Outside the dining room, she grabbed a paper from the box, looking at the headlines. Grinned to herself as she thought about the fact that she was actually working for this particular paper now. The headlines were the last ones put together by Cal and Colleen before they left town for their vacation. MURDER IN THE GLEN! She still had trouble believing it. Something like that in a quiet, peaceful little place like this.

As Libby entered the dining room, her eyes became wide. Must be a popular place for breakfast, she thought to herself. Every table was occupied. She went to the bar and asked for coffee. While she was waiting for her cup, she turned around and scanned the room again, checking to see if anyone might be leaving. No such luck.

As her eyes moved over the last few tables, the man sitting at the one closest to her smiled and asked, "You wanna share a table with me? It's crowded in here this morning."

A little hesitant, Libby looked him over. Tall, a bit on what she would call the lanky side, he had dark hair and was wearing a black suit with an open-necked navy shirt. It looked good on him. His eyes, she noticed, were earnest-looking and honest. That was what decided her.

"Sure. Why not?" Grabbing her cup of coffee, she moved to the table and set the cup and her paper down before dropping into the chair across from his. "Thanks. I've been here a couple of days, but this is the first time I haven't been able to get a seat at breakfast." She smiled at him.

"Kinda depends on what time you show up." The man returned the smile. That lit his eyes up a little more, Libby saw. Made him not look quite so serious.

"I guess that's it," she said. "I've been getting here a little earlier, but I don't have to be at work quite so soon today."

"What kinda work you do?" he asked, handing her a menu.

Libby held up the paper. "You're looking at it," she said with a broader smile. "I'm a reporter. Just started to work for the Glen Times a couple of days ago." Looking at the menu, she immediately decided on bacon and eggs.

"I'm impressed," he answered quietly. "Your name on there somewhere?"

"Well- Not yet," she confessed. "But soon. Hopefully. My name's Libby. Libby Tyler."

"Dan Evans." He held out his hand, and they shook briefly across the table. "Nice to meet you, Miss Tyler."

"You too." They shook and then she asked, "So what do you do, Mr. Evans?"

"Dan," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "Nothing so interesting as newspaper reportin', I'm afraid. My official title is business manager, but I do a little of everything. Accounting, taxes, investments. Stuff like that."

"Sounds a little...stuffy," Libby said with a smile, in her usually candid way.

"Guess it is, at that." Dan chuckled, enjoying the way she talked.

"Not that you seem stuffy. You don't. Really."

"Well, thanks," he said. "No offense taken, Miss."

"Libby. Call me Libby. Please." She smiled again, liking this somewhat solemn man, who looked like he could use someone to help him laugh, enjoy life a little.

They ordered breakfast and chatted about the murder and the other news in the Glen. By the time she left, Libby was very much looking forward to seeing Dan Evans again. Soon, she hoped.