by K. K. Allen
I shake my head and take a step back. My entire body is trembling now. “I don’t know what she told you, but I don’t need a pity friendship. Whatever she offered you in return, I hope it was worth it.”
He’s frowning, his forehead deeply creased in the center. “Kat, just listen for a minute. It’s not like—”
He starts to move toward me, but I’m gaining distance more quickly than he can close it.
“Leave me alone, Alec. I’m warning you. You don’t want to be near me right now.”
As if the sky is listening, a loud rumble shakes overhead. Alec jumps and looks toward the noise. I use the distraction as an opportunity to flee back to Summer Manor… and to leave Alec Stone behind.
The main doors to Island Grille are locked when I arrive Monday morning, so I meander around the porch to check out the view while I wait. I lean forward onto the balcony rail and look out at the open sea. The sun is rising above the horizon, creating a mirror image on the calm water as birds soar through the sky. I’m in a terrible mood thanks to how last night ended with Alec, which was followed by a confrontation with Rose. Despite that, it’s a beautiful day, and I intend to enjoy it.
“What are you doing?”
I jump and spin around to glare at the intruder to my thoughts. It’s Johnny. A very disheveled, tousled hair, and tired-eyed version of him. My heart quickens in my chest, and I don’t know if it’s from my eyeful of the guy or the way he snuck up on me just now.
“Geez. You don’t have to yell at me.”
He twists his lips like he’s looking at a weirdo. “I didn’t yell.” Then he turns and starts to walk back around the corner. “Come on. I need to count the till. You need to fold napkins.”
My eyes are glued to his black shirt as it ripples over a plethora of muscles beneath it. “Fun,” I say under my breath so he doesn’t hear me.
At least, I hoped he wouldn’t. But the way his steps slow for a half of a second make me realize I should be more careful. While he’s nice to look at, he’s not exactly the most pleasant person to be around. Working an entire shift with him will surely be torture.
He walks me into the bar and over to a booth where a basket of blue cloth napkins sit. “You can fold these and wrap the silverware inside like this.” He takes a fork, a knife, and a spoon, places them in a folded napkin and rolls the napkin until everything is snug.
I shouldn’t be mesmerized by the fluidity of Johnny’s napkin-folding skills. Nor should I be comparing the size of his thick, calloused hands to Alec’s soft ones. He’s too much of a hot-headed jerk for me to notice those kinds of things.
“I hope you were taking notes.” He points at the basket and walks away. “Get to work.”
A burning sensation runs through my veins as I watch him strut away. At least he hasn’t glared at me yet. Maybe things are looking up.
I start wrapping the silverware the way he showed me. It’s a monotonous, boring job, but I guess someone has to do it. I glance up to see Johnny standing at the cash register, facing the other direction, and frown. I would love to know what I did to deserve his cold shoulder. It seemed all I had to do was move to town. I could ask him, but then he would get the satisfaction of my curiosity.
After wrapping another napkin, I get a better idea. Who wants a boring rolled-up napkin when they can have something more creative—like the shape of a sun? I jump into a rhythm that sends my hands flying into repetitive motion. I’m done in minutes. When I stand and look up with a satisfied grin, Johnny is standing there with a strange look on his face.
“That was fast.”
I look at my handiwork and shrug. “It was easy. What’s next?”
The top of my head only reaches his collarbone, so I have to lift my chin to meet his gaze. He stares down with a heated intensity that could fry an egg. From here, I get a good look at the scar that runs from the side of his eye to the top of his right cheek. It takes everything in me to contain my shudder as I imagine him in some sort of biker brawl that he most likely won.
His eyes flicker down to the table—to my masterpiece. He lifts one of the cloth suns, shakes out the silverware, and dangles it in front of him. “What the hell is this?”
My words are lost at first. I swallow my nerves and stand up straighter. “Anyone can roll a napkin. These”—I give an excited wave of my hand—“are fun.”
“I don’t remember asking for fun.” With a shake of his wrist, the napkin unravels, and he tosses it on the table. “Fix them all.”
I drop into my seat, mouth agape. Johnny walks toward the kitchen, and I am utterly speechless. I know he’s rude, but I’m not sure if his growl is worse than his bite. Frustration consumes me, and as soon as he’s out of sight, I’m making quick work of the task he gave me, undoing what I created and rewrapping the silverware the way he instructed.
Not enough time has passed, and I’m still fuming when I lift myself from the seat and march into the staff room to confront Johnny. He has no right to talk to me like that.
I slam the door open with my palm, ready to let him have it, when I get an eyeful of his shirtless form sliding a shirt over his head. He’s facing me, his face covered by his shirt’s fabric, so he doesn’t see the way I ogle the deep carvings that define his abs and the scar that starts near one side of the V that dips into his shorts and reaches around his back. I should turn away or run—anything else but stand here and stare.
His shirt slides over his eyes, and he’s staring back at me.
My cheeks warm and my breathing is unsteady. “I-I’m sorry.”
He says nothing about my gawking. Instead, he grabs a black shirt on the counter beside him and chucks it at me. When I open the balled-up material, I notice it’s a work tank top with Island Grille’s logo on it.
“Thank you.” The words are barely a whisper as they leave my mouth.
Johnny slides past me and walks out the door, allowing me to change in private.
For the millionth time, I debate whether a job here is worth it. I don’t want to quit before I’ve even been hired, and I don’t want to let a grumpy asshole like Johnny get the better of me, but I don’t know how I can work with the guy long-term.
After changing into the work tank, I find an empty locker to toss my shirt into. When I walk out of the staff room, Johnny is leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest.
He tosses me a stained white cloth that smells of cleaning solution. “You can wipe down the tables and set the chairs out.”
I narrow my eyes and fold my arms to mirror him. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do?”
He raises his brows, as if accepting my challenge. “Clean the bathrooms. Why? Wanna swap?”
I let my arms fall, feeling deflated. It’s if he won some sort of battle, and I’m too annoyed to answer.
He rolls his eyes and pushes off the wall. “Didn’t think so.”
After heading back out to the restaurant, I spend the next thirty minutes wiping down each table and placing the chairs in their respective positions. It’s enough time for me to get my head straight again and remember that Johnny is harmless compared to Steve. Sure, Johnny hates me for some mysterious reason, but he isn’t doing anything more than being rude. I can deal with rude.
Once he’s done with the bathrooms, he shows me how to take an order and place it into the system then how to charge a customer’s card to close out a table. Meanwhile, I just listen and take it all in, doing everything in my power to avoid eye contact and speaking to him. If I open my mouth to say anything, I know it won’t be nice.
“Monday mornings are never busy, so it’s just you and me for the first hour. I’ll shadow you and tell you everything you need to fix.”
My eyes widen, and I see there’s a twinkle in his eyes to tell me he’s actually joking. Not that he’s being playful. He’s just enjoying being an ass. “Oh gee, what a great guy you are.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t go that far. Just looking forward to watching you f
ail.”
Fire flares in my chest, and I’m not willing to back down this time. “Excuse me? What is your problem? You’ve been nasty to me since you laid eyes on me. I’m sorry I hit you when I was playing pool the other day. It was an accident, but you were terrible to me before that. So what gives?”
Johnny starts to open his mouth, but the door swings open.
Roy walks in. “Hey, Kat,” he greets with a big smile. “Don’t mess up.” He salutes, then he walks straight to the back, most likely to his office.
When I look back at Johnny, I swear there’s a tiny smirk lifting his cheeks. When I let out a little growl and open my mouth to prompt him to answer my question, Johnny places his hands on my shoulders and swivels me toward the door. “Your first customer. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
For the next hour, I take all the distractions I can get. Customers enter, and I rush to seat them. I get their drinks then take their orders. At some point, Johnny gets busy at the bar, and I no longer feel like I’m putting on a show for him. After other staff members and customers arrive, I feel like I’m thriving in the chaos of tending to multiple orders at once.
When I pick up an order from the kitchen, I find Johnny and Roy near the break room, standing close together and speaking about something. I find it interesting to watch Johnny interact with someone without the grumpy face he always seems to wear around me.
Roy sees me standing in the kitchen and waves. “Hey, Kat. You're doing good out there.”
I smile at the old man, happy to have pleased someone.
“Order up!” Mikey calls, snapping my attention toward him. He winks, and I grab the sizzling breakfast skillets off the warmers.
“Whoa!” Johnny calls out before running over to me and blocking my way to the dining area. He looks down at what I’m holding, his expression twisting in confusion. “Those skillets aren’t too hot for your hands? Most people use the oven pads to grab them.”
I shrug. “My hands are tough, I guess.”
He shakes his head as if he doubts me. Meanwhile, my heart is fluttering wildly, partially because of our proximity and partially because I know that I might smack him if he says another rude thing to me.
“You’re doing good,” he says with a frown. “Beginners luck, I guess.”
I look up, daring myself, and catch a partial smile from Johnny. My flutters catch in my throat. If he weren’t such a jerk, he would be extremely attractive.
A jolt of excitement swells my chest. “Does that mean I’m hired?”
Johnny looks over his shoulder toward where he was standing with Roy, but Roy is gone. “I don’t know. We’ll call you if you are. You can go.”
I stare back at him, mystified. I don’t know why, but something feels so off with what he’s telling me. “But you just told me I did good.”
He grabs the skillets from my hands and stares me dead in the eyes. “I also just told you that you can go.”
With that, he backs out through the swinging doors and walks straight toward my table.
Today marks the start of the eighteenth year of my life, a milestone that Rose believes to be cause for a celebration. I, on the other hand, have been dreading everything about it and am currently contemplating an escape. It’s either that, or I’ll be forced to walk down those spiral steps and make nice with dozens of strangers.
My stomach knots as I stare out the open doors of my balcony while the sun makes its ascent against a bright-blue backdrop. It’s only ten in the morning, and the party is already in full swing downstairs. I can hear the guests’ happy chatter, smell the hot catering dishes, and feel every ounce of excitement reverberating through every inch of the house.
The door to my room opens a crack, and Charlotte pokes her head through, a sympathetic look on her face. “It’s time, Kat. Are you ready?”
I let out a nervous laugh and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
Charlotte frowns. “What’s wrong? Besides your tiff with Rose.”
I chew my bottom lip while my anxiety eats away at me. I’m still upset at Rose for going behind my back to get Alec to take me out, but that’s not what’s bothering me today. “I think Rose’s wild stories and crazy imaginings are getting the better of me.”
She steps into my room and shuts the door. “Why do you say that?”
I swallow. “I had another dream last night.”
Charlotte looks to be considering her words. Then she waves me over to the vanity desk to sit. “Come. Tell me all about it while I do your hair and makeup.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want makeup.”
She sighs. “Must you always be so stubborn? Come. Sit.”
The sternness in her tone causes my heart to jump, and I do as she says. While she lightly applies foundation to my face, I tell her all about my first dream and why this one haunts me more. “My dream last night was the same—except the girl in the mirror wasn’t me this time. It was Rose.”
I shudder at the memory of waking up in a cold sweat. I didn’t plan to tell Charlotte, but I also didn’t expect the dream to weigh so heavily on my heart, like I’m supposed to be decoding something important.
“Perhaps your dream was a combination of things. You’ve been pretty upset at your grandmother. I would aim to guess that your anger toward Rose, combined with your nerves about today, could certainly stir up your imagination.”
I bow my head. “I suppose. But do you blame me? What Rose did was so embarrassing.”
Charlotte is silent for a beat. “Rose is a woman who gets what she wants. In this case, she wants you to stay in Apollo Beach. Her methods were—”
“Wrong,” I cut in before Charlotte can make an excuse for her.
She sighs. “Yes, but Alec didn’t have to agree. It’s not like Rose paid him off or anything.”
I frown. “How do I know that?”
Rose insists all she did was ask Alec to befriend me. But for some reason, that still doesn’t sit right with me.
“Because,” Charlotte says, “Rose is a very powerful woman in the position she’s in because of her honesty. She has no reason to lie to you, Kat.” She gives me a reassuring smile and backs away. “All done. Do you want me to walk with you?”
I shake my head and watch as she steps back out of my room and softly closes the door behind her. It doesn’t matter how deeply hurt I still am. Unfortunately, in Rose’s eyes, that betrayal doesn’t release me from my duties as a Summer. That’s what she called my presence at my own birthday party. A duty.
Filling my lungs with the deepest breath I can take, I pause in front of the vanity mirror to take one final glance at myself. I have to admit, the green baby-doll chiffon dress Charlotte picked for me is gorgeous. It’s strapless with a heart-shaped bodice, and it flows down to a couple of inches above my knees. Simple touches like mascara and blush accentuate my long eyelashes and rosy cheeks. Light eyeliner defines my light-blue eyes, which seem to be becoming a brighter gray with every day that passes. But it’s my hair that strikes me the most. The length alone has grown so much over the few short weeks, from the tips of my shoulders to halfway down my back. Seeing my reflection now, I’m thankful Charlotte insisted on curling it.
When I reach the top of the spiral staircase, I peer over the rail and down into the great room. It’s as if I’m overlooking a scene from a Mardi Gras parade, with explosions of color decorating the room. Generous arrangements of food and beverages are lined up on a long table, a folk band plays spirited music from the corner, and arrangements of white flowers are sprinkled just about everywhere. The celebration looks more like a summer solstice celebration than a birthday party, and for that, I’m grateful.
My heart takes off at a canter as I take my first tottering steps down the staircase. I’ve never worn heels before, and it was probably a mistake to start today. Strangers stare up at me from the foyer, their smiles making me look away as they welcome me to my own party. A queasiness churns my stomach the closer I get to the circus below. I�
�m so focused on the forced smile on my face that I completely miss a stair and lose my balance on the final step.
An arm shoots out and wraps my waist, steadying me before I can topple onto the marble floor. I’m staring down at the strong arm wrapped in black fabric that buttons at the wrist and my heart jumps into my throat. It can’t be. I snap my head up to find myself staring directly into the devastating blue eyes of Johnny Pierce.
“What are you doing here?”
He might have just saved me from major embarrassment, but his glare is no different than when I saw him last. Then his brows rise, and he glances over at his other arm currently holding a tray of appetizers. “What does it look like to you?”
I roll my eyes and step away from him, patting down my dress like my near spill was powerful enough to wrinkle it. “Of course,” I mutter sarcastically under my breath. “I didn’t know Island Grille catered.”
Johnny averts his gaze, but not before I see him check out my dress. “For someone who wanted a job, you sure failed to do your research.”
My mouth drops open. The audacity of this man is inconceivable. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t want the job anymore, so research isn’t necessary.”
“Good to know. I’ll let Roy know.”
“What are you talking about? It’s been two weeks. You said you’d call if I got the job.”
He shrugs. “Haven’t gotten around to it yet.” Then he swings his tray in front of me, so I get an eyeful of the spread of toast and diced tomato. “Care for some bruschetta?”
I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “I’ll pass. Thank you.”
When I turn away, Rose is walking through the foyer toward me. “There you are. Katrina, you look stunning.” She gives me a long once-over then places a quick kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday, dear.” She leans in and whispers into my ear, “I know you’re still upset with me, but today is a very important day. I hope you’ll put aside your frustration and enjoy it. Will you?” She looks so hopeful waiting for my response.
