“Greatest news ever!” She showcased the wall of liquor behind her with a sweep of her arm. “Pick your poison. Your drink’s on me.”
“Would it be weird to ask for sparkling wine?”
“It would weird not to.” She moved to the wine cooler and came back with a single-serving bottle of champagne. She twisted the lid, the cracking sound of the plastic somewhat unsatisfying.
“No cork?”
“Sorry. This is all we have. I promise when we properly celebrate, I’ll buy you a bottle with a cork.”
She poured my beverage into a tall flute, filling one with club soda for herself before raising her glass. “To your new gig as a paid therapist.”
“It kicks in after I graduate,” I said as she lifted the glass to her lips. “You don’t think I’m jinxing it, do you?”
“Absolutely not. You’re going to pass your boards. And you’re going to be the best PTA in the state.”
I loved her.
“Thanks, Reen.” We tapped glasses and drank. “Ugh.”
“I know. It looks so much yummier than it tastes, doesn’t it?”
I took another sip anyway. I was celebrating with bubbly wine no matter how it tasted. “I never dreamed they’d offer me a position. Veronica never hinted she’d need more than temporary help. I enjoy the work too. I have a lot of fantastic patients.”
Rena raised one eyebrow. “And one really uncooperative one?”
We both knew she meant Cade.
She leaned on the bar in front of me and made herself comfortable. “Devlin said he’s being less of a pain in the ass than before, that he’s trying. I hear he moved into the room over the garage.”
“Yeah. It’s a nice place. Completely separate from the house.” Cade seemed like a different guy than the one who’d been sulking in his former bedroom over the last few months. Maybe I was being unfair. Maybe he was trying.
“I’m happy for him. I’ve been pulling for him since his life was flipped upside down—along with his car. I can’t imagine having to relearn how to talk. Getting back to normal must preoccupy his every thought.”
“Well, he isn’t willing to work on it. Not with me, anyway.”
“Give him time, Tash. I know you. You aren’t one to give up on someone who needs you. You’ve given lots of your time to people who didn’t deserve it.”
Her raised eyebrow had Tony Fry written all over it. She wasn’t wrong. I’d given him second, third, and fourth chances. How embarrassing.
“I’m further incentivized by the fact that my father doesn’t want me to see him any longer.” I sipped my mediocre wine. “Defying Daddy by continuing to see Cade is a bonus.”
I explained how my father thought Cade and Paul would turn me into a criminal, and she rolled her eyes. I understood why. Devlin hadn’t walked the straight and narrow either, and he and Rena were doing great.
“But you are right about Cade,” I said. “He’s been through a lot and I’m tenacious. I’ll make him crack. And then speak.”
“Damn straight.” She clinked her glass with mine again.
“I just need my father’s money for a few more months.” I hated admitting that, but there it was. “But I can’t let him bully me when Cade needs my help.”
“Your father has plenty of money, Tasha,” Rena reminded me, even though I didn’t need reminding. “He offered to pay for your apartment and your education. You have nothing to feel badly about.”
She was right. I’d planned on dorm life, but my father insisted on an apartment so that I would be safe.
“Plus, you’re independent. You can cut those strings in a few short weeks.”
I appreciated her taking my side. I had been dismissed before by friends who’d labeled me spoiled, but Rena never saw me that way. In a black-and-white world, she was a master at seeing the gray.
“And now the job!” She polished off her club soda, and I finished the cloyingly sweet wine with a shudder. “You’re getting there, Tash.” She paused for a demure burp. “Don’t give up. The days of you being under your father’s hand are almost history.”
A couple sat at the bar and she moved to greet them. I took another look around the sparsely populated restaurant. A table of men in suits in the corner had a heated discussion amidst martini glasses. A group of well-dressed women at a center table paused between bites of their dinner to laugh. A couple near the entrance sat cozily on the same side of a booth seat.
As I people-watched, I scanned the room for Cade. Only because if he was here, it would be polite to say hello.
No other reason.
Chapter Five
Cade
Work was riveting, if your idea of riveting was cleaning up after people like livestock. Seriously, it was disgusting how much food was wasted. Equally alarming was how much money they paid to throw out half of it.
Maybe I was being grouchy.
When I’d finally shown up, Devlin had steam coming out of his ears. I didn’t let him rile me. I’d been through more difficult struggles in my past than my brother being pissy. It hadn’t mattered too much since we were so slow tonight.
Today was the first nice day we’d had in Ridgeway in a while. Nice weather reminded everyone there was a world outdoors, so they were less likely to take up space inside a stuffy restaurant. If I had to be here, I’d rather be busy. Since I wasn’t, all I could think about was how I’d rather be under my car than in this dimly lit building.
I dropped a bus tub of dirty dishes at the dish tank when the degenerate criminal line cook I was coming to hate with every fiber of my being called out, “Hey! Chatterbox!”
Fuck. Here we go.
My shoulders tightened along with my jaw. Hamilton thought he was funny, as evidenced by his jackass-like braying echoing down the line. I’d ignored him successfully until tonight. He’d been trying harder to grab my attention by calling me Dopey and Mute, which had devolved to Chatty and now, apparently, Chatterbox. I was trying to stay out of trouble and do my job. He wasn’t making it easy for me.
Back in the dining room, I collected a pair of wineglasses and a bottle from an empty table when someone behind me said my name—my actual name.
“Cade?”
I turned to find one of my buddies, Miller, and a petite brunette I didn’t recognize sitting at the table behind me. Girlfriend, maybe? I shifted the wineglasses and bottle to the same hand so I could shake Miller’s.
“Hey, man. This is Carol,” he introduced.
I nodded my hello. Miller was a nice guy. My height, with short hair and glasses, he looked the part of an attorney-at-law already.
I’d left school abruptly. Relearning how to chew food takes up a lot of time. Other than the initial check-ins via text, and one or two pop-ins at the hospital, I hadn’t heard much from my college friends. They didn’t exactly ditch me. We just didn’t have much in common since I wasn’t crashing campus parties any longer.
“I’ve been wondering how you were. Spotted you here the other day, but you ducked into the back.”
Yeah. I saw him that day too but wanted to avoid an awkward exchange. Like this one. He stood from the table and looked me in the eye, which made it even more awkward.
“How are you really?” he asked, his voice low. His girlfriend Carol was scrolling through her phone, giving us privacy.
I couldn’t answer that with a nod, so I attempted to speak.
“G-good.” I tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace. “You?”
“We, uh, we’re doing well.” He palmed the back of his neck like he was nervous. Which made the hair on the back of my own neck stand on end. Miller wasn’t the most direct of our friends, and I could tell something weighed on his conscience. We’d unanimously nominated Miller as the pro-bono guy for our future law firm. His personality would be perfect for those sorts of cases.
“We, uh”—he cleared his throat—“we’re going ahead with our plans for the building downtown.”
The dining room canted to on
e side.
“Brian secured a lease,” Miller said to his shoes. “We had to. The owner was about to put our office up for lease. He wasn’t going to wait forever. We couldn’t risk it going to another lawyer. Or worse. An accountant.” He was poking fun at my dad, his laugh an attempt at smoothing it over. I didn’t feel like laughing. Puking, maybe.
Our office. The one next to a boutique with jewelry in the window and on the other side, a sushi restaurant. Claire Street. I’d found that location. Me. A mix of anger and shock washed through my bloodstream.
It wasn’t Miller’s fault. He’d taken a bullet for the guys by actually telling me to my face. Despite him merely being the messenger, I shot daggers from my eyes. They’d moved on. Without me. All of them.
Even though I knew being a lawyer wasn’t in my future, that stung.
“Sorry, man. You didn’t come back to school. We’re graduating in June. Brian’s application to law school was already accepted.” He shrugged like he didn’t know what else to say. I could relate. I didn’t know what to say either, even if I could have fucking said it.
“Cade. Table fifteen!” Chet, the floor manager, called out. Taking orders from a guy in pleated pants was humiliating, and the perfect topper to this shitty conversation. Miller, in his suit and tie, was having a two-hundred-dollar dinner with his girlfriend, while I wore a dirty apron.
“Cade!”
I lifted my chin at Chet to let him know I heard him. He tapped his watch to remind me I was on the clock. The prick.
“I’ll let you work,” Miller said, his smile pained at the edges. I would have felt sorry for him if I wasn’t so busy feeling sorry for myself.
“Nice to meet you,” Carol chimed in as Miller retook his seat. I gave her a tight smile before stalking to the kitchen.
I trashed the wine bottle and placed the glasses in the dish rack, my mind a million miles away. The office building on Claire had been a symbol of my future. Of a life I no longer lived. I’d been more excited than anyone. I’d even drawn up a floor plan with our designated office spaces. It was over. It was really over.
Blindly, I started out of the kitchen to clear table fifteen when the line cook—who had no idea how awful his timing was—ran me down again.
“What’s the matter, Dopey?” Hamilton chided. “You look like you’re about to cry. Might have to start calling you Weepy.”
Laughter rippled down the line.
“What do you have to say about that?” he called out, earning a few more chuckles interspersed with clanging utensils. He cupped his ear and waited while I looked on with rage that had moved from simmering to full boil in seconds.
I sized him up, not for the first time, but this was the first time I’d done it with the intent to beat his ass. He was taller than me, with a protruding gut, red beard, and no hair on top of his head. I could take him.
Hamilton sneered. “Aww. I hurt his feewings.”
That’s it. I untied my apron and slipped it from my head. Devlin wasn’t going to like this.
“Oh, Chatterbox is angwy,” Hamilton goaded. “Don’t do anything stup—”
I cut off his words with one balled fist, the satisfying crunching sound going a long way to making me feel better. Blood spurted from his nose and onto the flat-top grill where more than one steak sizzled. The salad guy backed into the counter when I faced him, the tilt of my head inviting him to be next.
He held up his hands in surrender.
Turned out a swearing, bleeding Hamilton made a lot of noise, but he didn’t raise a hand to me. Probably the fact he was on probation had something to do with it. He held his palm over his gushing nose and yelled for someone to replace the ruined steaks.
I shook out my hand. Son of a bitch, that hurt. As I was flexing my fingers, I spotted someone approaching from behind me. I turned, my fist raised, stopping short when I saw my boss-slash-half-brother Devlin.
It spoke to how far we’d come that I didn’t take a swing at him.
Hamilton, the tattler, pointed at me and told Devlin I’d hit him. He claimed it was unprovoked and the salad guy agreed. He’d suddenly grown brave now that the boss was in the kitchen. Asshole.
“Everybody calm down. Get back to work.” Devlin, an authority in a dark suit, was at least ten years Hamilton’s junior and Hamilton, the bonehead, decided to put on a show for the rest of the cooks behind the line.
“Kiss my ass, Calvary. You were the one who hired this violent mute.” Hamilton yanked his apron off and wiped it across his bloody face, leering at me over Devlin’s shoulder.
Devlin was the picture of calm. He held out one palm like he was using the Force and spoke evenly. “I need you back there tonight, man.”
“Maybe I’ll come back after I visit the ER.” A smile crested Hamilton’s stupid mouth. “Or maybe I’ll sue Oak and Sage. Grab up some workers’ comp.”
“And maybe I’ll call the cops and let them know you have weed in your locker.” Devlin smiled.
Hamilton froze.
“Second thought, take the rest of the night off. We’ll handle it without you.”
“But—”
“Goodnight.” Devlin’s voice was steel. Hamilton, still bleeding, which was satisfying, stomped through the kitchen and burst out the back door. I smiled, smug, until my brother turned on me. “Get out of my kitchen.”
Even if I could have argued without humiliating myself, I wouldn’t have. I pushed past him, ignoring my coworkers. Some were lobbing “Chatterbox” at me while others were almost complimentary. I heard at least one “Dopey’s got a mean right hook” on my way out.
My vision was blurred by rage, so I didn’t see the blonde until I bumped into her.
The soft swells of her breasts pressed my chest. My hands instinctively curled around her small shoulders. I blinked, focusing on the bluest blue eyes and the lushest, pink lips mere inches from my own.
Tasha
I had just exited the ladies’ room when I smacked into a wall. But it wasn’t a wall. It was Cade. And he was seething. His fists were balled at his sides, his eyes unseeing at first. The moment he touched me, his features softened. The transformation was astounding.
His eyebrows returned to their neutral stations, his mouth parted gently, and his thumbs brushed over my shoulders in silent apology.
“Hi.”
No response.
“Are you all right?” I scanned his clothes—polo, work pants, boots. No apron. Nothing was out of place, but something was wrong. Then I spotted his bloody knuckles. “Oh my God!”
Careful of his damaged hand, I grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the ladies’ room.
“No.”
Once he resisted, moving him became impossible. There was no way to budge him when he dug his heels in—physically or mentally. Go figure.
I tried another tactic. “There’s no one in there. And you look like you need a minute. Let me clean you up.”
He glanced over at a couple I guessed to be around our age. I didn’t recognize them, but he seemed to. The next thing I knew, Cade was dragging me into the ladies’ room.
It was a onesie. When we were both in, I locked the door. Oak & Sage was a super-fancy restaurant, so there was no paper towel dispenser. Instead a basket filled with plush, white cotton towels sat on the back of the sink. That was unfortunate for whomever was responsible for the restaurant’s laundry.
“What happened?” I wet one of the towels with cold water as I talked. “Did you hit something?” Upon closer examination in better light, it was apparent that the blood on his hand wasn’t his. I dabbed his knuckles gently. “Well, I hope you didn’t hit someone.”
I heard a grunt and looked up to find his mouth lifted into a smirk.
“You hit someone?”
He shrugged.
“Cade. You can’t do that. You need this job and you need…” I stopped midsentence when he snatched the towel out of my hand and finished cleaning his knuckles with twice my force and half my patience.
“If you’re upset or angry, you should deal with it in a healthy way.”
He slid a glare my way before tossing the towel into the basket in the corner of the bathroom. Then he turned to me and folded his arms over his chest. My eyes accidentally skated over his ample biceps. Even in an unflattering black polo shirt, he was achingly attractive.
“Like wuh-what?”
“Try counting down from ten,” I said, as if his question hadn’t been rhetorical. He advanced toward me. “Slowing your breathing helps.” Another step. “Have you tried meditation?” The word “meditation” left my lips in a whisper, since Cade was standing almost nose to nose with me. I tried backing up again, but there was nowhere to go. My butt bumped the door.
“Or?” His voice was a soft rumble, and in an instant, I remembered how cocky he used to be. That night he’d hit on me, he’d been a complete ass. But this version of Cade wasn’t quite as cocky. More calmly confident and a touch dangerous. Neither of which were a turnoff.
His lips hovered over mine, his piney, earthy scent swirling around me. I tipped my chin up when his breath brushed over my lips, my heart hammering my chest as my eyes closed.
Before his lips could touch mine, the handle on the door jiggled, followed by a sharp knock. “Anyone in there?”
I pushed off the door, swiping my brow and wondering if I’d gone temporarily insane. “We should go. Are you okay?”
One side of his mouth tipped up as he gave me a head-to-toe sweep. “Are you?”
I was too flummoxed to answer. He unlocked the door and opened it to find an older woman in a pale pink pantsuit at the threshold. At first she appeared slightly inconvenienced, but then she registered Cade and me, and her expression shifted to positively scandalized.
“We thought this was the kitchen,” I blurted out.
Cade grinned over his shoulder. Dimple and all. Not gonna lie, my knees went a little gooey.
“K-kitchen?” he asked with a chuckle as he led me away from the bathroom.
Craving Caden (Lost Boys Book 2) Page 4
