Cards of Love: Knight of Wands

by Claudia Burgoa

  Kit Kat: Thanks again for today. You saved my sanity.

  Ollie: Have a good night.

  ↔

  The next day, I arrive early. Ever since I can remember, the Blythes cooked for the staff before they opened, and that hasn’t changed. Kaitlynn made us Black Pepper Shrimp with collard greens and blackberry cobbler. Her other two waiters eat quietly at a table next to us while we shoot the breeze.

  “I feel like you want me to hire you, Tanner,” she jokes. “Two days in a row. Are you keeping track of your hours?”

  “No,” I say with a shrug. “The tips are enough.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Believe me, I’m doing this for selfish reasons. Damn woman, your cooking is delicious.”

  “If you want, I can pack up some of the leftovers for you to take home,” she offers.

  “I’ll take anything you want home,” I insinuate with a smirk, reaching for her hand.

  Her cheeks flush. When I realize what I said, I quickly snatch my hand away, grabbing our empty plates before rushing awkwardly to the kitchen. As I’m scrapping the excess food into the garbage disposal, I hear her voice behind me.

  “Are you alright?” she asks. “You’re acting a little weird.”

  “Totally fine,” I lie. “Just tidying up before opening.”

  I look over my shoulder, noticing her glare at me. After a moment, she sighs.

  “Okay, then.” She slouches and walks away.

  This attraction feels like a wall between us. I can’t act on it. Yet I can’t seem to shake it off.

  Don’t do anything stupid, Tanner!

  Things pick up quickly once the lunch rush starts, and the awkwardness of earlier fades. I’m in charge of two sections today since Kelsey’s “stranded” in Atlanta. Fuck knows how that’s possible. The other cook doesn’t arrive until five, so Kaitlynn’s responsible for the kitchen. Things seem to be going relatively smoothly. The crowd starts to wane around 2pm, and that’s when I hear a strangled scream coming from the back. I rush to the kitchen to see what’s wrong.

  I find Kaitlynn with her head inside one of the ovens. She’s talking to it as if it were a person.

  “C’mon, Gerty,” she says frankly. “I know I promised to replace you. I know I promised you a nice little retirement. If you could just ... fucking ... pull it together for one more weekend, I promise you’ll never have to work in this stinking town ever again.”

  “That’s a lot to ask of an old lady,” I joke.

  She backs out of the oven, turning enough to glare at me like I’m hellspawn.

  “Stay out of this, Tanner,” she hisses. “This is between me and this bitch.”

  “I’m sure the sweet talking is helping a lot.” I swallow the laugh. She’s fucking adorable when she’s upset. “But what Gerty might need is a tune up.”

  “Thanks for the wisdom, Thomas Edison,” she barks. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that?”

  “Maybe you need a second pair of eyes,” I suggest as I bend down next to her. “I happen to have a working set right here.”

  She glares, but a moment later her shoulders sag and she nods, scooting over to allow me to inspect the oven. I do a once over, pretending to inspect it, before heading to the office. I grab the toolbox out from underneath her father’s old desk. It takes me a few minutes of tweaking, but eventually I get everything tight enough in the back. Then I try turning it on, leaving the oven door open to see if it’s working at all. After a few seconds, heat starts spilling from the open compartment.

  I chuckle quietly. “See?” I tell Kaitlynn. “Gerty isn’t a nasty old woman. She just needed a little love.”

  “She’s just being nice with you because she’s a horny old hag,” she argues. “Maybe if I feed you to her, she’ll run smoothly for a whole year.”

  “Ha ha,” I let out a humorless laugh. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Well yeah, thanks,” she tells me with a softer voice. “If she doesn’t quit by the end of the night, I’ll put her to work baking a reward for you.”

  “I could think of another reward if she gets too tired,” I say with a smirk.

  Kaitlynn looks down, blushing. She then glares at me lightly. “Are we still talking about the oven, Tanner?”

  I lick my lips. “Of course we are,” I agree, composing myself. “But we can discuss that later. I should go check on my tables.”

  Feeling cowardly, I run away. I sense sweat beading down my neck as I muster a charming smile for one of my tables. Is it the heat of the kitchen, the heat of Knox Ridge, or the radiance beaming off every inch of Kaitlynn’s body that has me so hot?

  During the next couple of hours, I do some housekeeping to keep my mind occupied. By the time the dinner crowd starts to trickle in, my mind is back to Kit Kat. Since the second chef has clocked in, the kitchen isn’t Kaitlynn’s only point of focus. My eyes wander every few seconds, seeking her out like a target hiding in the brush. But instead of an enemy threatening to attack, it’s me searching for ... a shapely pair of legs and a smile brighter than the sun?

  Am I desperate and horny, or does she have me under some kind of spell?

  Either way, I might want to stay at home tomorrow or I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.

  The sun set a while ago, but the line for the hostess table is still well past the front door. We need more servers. We need more kitchen staff. We could really use a busboy or two. Maybe drinks from the bar wouldn’t take so fucking long if the bartender didn’t have to handle takeout orders too. If this was my place, I’d invest in new appliances, staff, and furniture. I’d also do some renovations like repainting the walls and building a patio outside.

  This place is a disaster. I can’t believe Kaitlynn’s kept it open for as long as she has. I have so many questions about this restaurant and how she’s managed it so far. But I’ll wait until the crowd dies down more.

  Sometime later, Kaitlynn approaches me. “Have you taken your break yet?”

  “No, it’s been crazy,” I admit.

  “I can cover your tables for a little,” she says, nudging me toward the kitchen. “C’mon, you can take a plate and eat in the office.”

  “Have you eaten yet?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I’ve had a bite here and there.”

  “You should be the one taking a break,” I argue.

  She snorts. “It’s barely nine, and I’ve had food. This is an easy night.”

  Without another word, she heads toward the dining room.

  ↔

  “Is this every night or just this weekend?” I ask after closing.

  “Pretty much,” she answers with a strained voice.

  I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

  “You saved my life again.” She grins. “So, thanks for that.”

  Don’t thank me, just tell me how to help you. I can see her sinking along with the restaurant, and no one is around to help her.

  “Have you thought about fixing up this place?” I ask hesitantly.

  She glares. “Of course I have.”

  “And what’s stopping you?”

  “Uh, money,” she says defensively.

  What happened to her inheritance? The Blythes weren’t rich, but their restaurant was profitable ... it used to be profitable, at least.

  “That’s what banks are for,” I argue. “Have you ever considered applying for a loan?”

  “Gee, I never would’ve thought of that,” she says sarcastically. “That’s really clever of you, Tanner. I’ll just call up the bank right now and see if they’ve forgiven the last loan I had to take out just to buy Kelsey’s half of the restaurant.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” I rub the back of my head.

  “Of course you don’t,” she sneers.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve been gone for years, Oliver. What did you expect, to just ride back into town and save me from my shitty little life?”

  “
Fuck you, I’m not the one who cut me out of their life. That was all you, Kit Kat,” I curse, glaring at her.

  “I didn’t cut you out!” Her voice resonates throughout the walls.

  “You stopped writing,” I accuse her. “You made it pretty clear where I belong in your life.”

  I don’t belong close to the Steves, Sams, Connors, or any of the fucking assholes she preferred to hang out with.

  “I stopped writing because my parents died. What’s your excuse?” She screams, clutching her hair.

  I close my eyes briefly. Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. I lower my head, avoiding her gaze for a few seconds. I’m a fucking asshole. Why didn’t I reach out to her?

  As if reading my mind, she crosses her arms. Her smile is triumphant but hollow.

  “That’s what I thought, you’re like everyone else. Waiting at the receiving end,” she scolds. “If you were looking for some brownie points for bothering to check up on an old friend, don’t worry. I’ll let the locals know you’re a regular standup guy. No need to keep up pleasantries to fit in around here.”

  I groan in frustration. Typical Kaitlynn. She thinks that if someone lets her down once, they’re bound to do it again.

  One time? Her parents died years ago and you never checked up on her. You could’ve visited at least a couple of times and it never occurred to you that she needed you.

  “Don’t pretend like you know me either,” I say quietly.

  She takes a step closer to me. Her eyes are defiant but her lip trembles.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks tightly.

  “Maybe I don’t know what you’re going through, but I still know you better than anyone, Kit Kat,” I say, tracing my finger along her jawline. “I know all your tells.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” she rasps quietly, staring at my lips.

  I growl. “You’re just so ... so ... so …”

  “So what?” she snaps. “So childish? So fucking naive for trying to keep a hell shack like this open?”

  “So stubborn,” I end my sentence trying to calm the pent-up emotions I’ve been gathering since I first saw her a week ago.

  “Fuck you, Ollie,” she growls, her green eyes opening wide.

  There’s a fire burning deep within her soul. It’s the mark of someone feisty ... brave ... and every bit as bold as she is beautiful. There’s also pain. I want nothing more than to take it as far away from her as possible. Following my instincts, I lean forward, brushing my lips against hers.

  We kiss softly for a few seconds, but the warmth that transpires between us becomes a blazing fire. In no time, it turns from an innocent and playful peck into something deeper. This kiss is hot, searing with red-hot passion. My hands drift to her hips, squeezing her curves tightly. I pull her closer, her body perfectly fits against mine. She splays her hands against my chest, pushing me away and extinguishing the fire between us with her cold gaze.

  “What the fuck is your problem, Tanner?” she shouts.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize, my voice weak, needy, lustful. “I was just trying—”

  “To what? Get me in bed? Pity fuck me?”

  “No. That’s—”

  “Get out of here,” she says, pointing toward the door.

  “What?”

  I can’t leave just like that. She’s upset and confused. Just like I am.

  “Out! Now!” She screams.

  As I am about to say something else, she walks to the entrance and opens the door.

  “I can’t deal with you, Tanner. Get out of my restaurant.”

  Without another word, I leave. As I drive home, I can’t stop thinking about everything that just transpired between Kaitlyn and me. Is our friendship over? My lips are still burning with the memory of her sweet ones. My heart is pounding out of my chest. My body feels electrified, and the warmth we created continues to thrum through me. I want a repeat. I want to kiss her again until we fuse as one.

  I shouldn’t try. She’s my best friend and my ex’s little sister. I grew up with her. But a kiss like that is the beginning of a promise. A promise that won’t stop until she finds her dream.

  6

  Kaitlynn

  Just after dawn is the best time of day. The sun peeks over the top of the hill in the cemetery, kissing everything it touches with a warm ethereal glow. A thick summer fog hugs tightly to the ground. I take off my shoes as I enter, feeling the morning dew seep into my toes. As the breeze caresses my skin, I exhale deeply, feeling the way life tingles all around.

  My eyes wander as I trudge toward the Blythe section of the graveyard. Every gravestone tells a different story. Some with generic sayings like “Loving Mother” and others are more personal about the deceased’s life like “Died how they lived, Fighting for others.” The style, size, and stone of the grave markers all have stories to tell about their families, their wealth, and who remembered them after they died.

  The Blythes have an illustrious history in Knox Ridge as caretakers and healers. Generations of Blythes have kept this town healthy and well fed. I swallow thickly, gripping the picnic basket in my hand tightly when I arrive at my destination.

  “Hey guys,” I greet them quietly.

  Richard & Cynthia Blythe, it reads. Lovers, Fighters, Restaurateurs Extraordinaires.

  I chuckle sadly. I added the last part just for dad. He would hate if anyone in town ever forgot how successful Blythe’s is ... was.

  I sink to my knees, letting my sandals and picnic basket fall to the ground next to me.

  “I brought brunch,” I say cheerfully, tucking my legs underneath my skirt before opening the basket. Mom always liked it when I wore my Sunday best for her. I try to please her, even though it’s a Monday and she’s six feet under.

  “I made turkey bacon, so no one has to worry about their cholesterol levels or blood pressure rising,” I joke.

  “You’d appreciate the sentiment, Mom,” I say. “Dad, I’m sure you’re rolling under there.”

  I quietly set up the blanket, laying out the dishes. I pull out the thermos last. “But don’t worry, that’s what the Brandy is for.”

  “Paige gave me some town gossip, but honestly I’ve been so out of it this week,” I admit.

  Like always, I chat for a while at the gravestone, talking about the town, the restaurant’s regulars, and how Gerty is amazingly still kicking. A knot forms in my stomach the longer I keep talking. I need to put on a happy face. They’re dead, but they’re my parents, and this is what they’d be most excited about for that week. They deserve a little comfort.

  My lips tremble when I finish talking about my neighbor’s Rottweiler and how he keeps trying to make friends with my cat. Myrtle is not amused.

  I bite into an apple. “I, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t have time to come visit last week. It’s hard to get out here when I’m still looking for new staff.”

  Even though they aren’t here, I can remember the sad look in my parents’ eyes every time I let them down. The way Dad would keep a stiff upper lip, and how Mom would smile with wet eyes. They wanted to be supportive, but I never was enough for them. It only happened a handful of times while they were alive, but I can only imagine how devastated they’d be if they could see Blythe’s today.

  I lick my lips, staring at my bare feet. “Remember when I was moving to Atlanta? I told you I could maybe help on weekends. But the restaurant wasn’t my dream, and it’d never be ... I’d never seen you so mad. It was like I ripped your hearts right out of your chests.

  “You thought I would come home eventually ... but that was never me, guys,” I admit. “I know you love this place, but I’m a disaster. I’m losing more money than I’m making as I try to keep this place open.

  “I know ... you wanted me to take over someday and maybe film my show from the restaurant so everyone in the south would know where to go for good comfort food but ... but ….”

  I close my eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “But I can’t make Bly
the’s big. I can’t even keep it afloat. I know you must hate me for saying this but ... some days I really regret taking it from Kelsey.

  “Well, she made me do it. She wanted to get rid of it, and how could I let her hand over your life’s work to some stranger.” I release a big, painful laugh.

  That’s exactly what I’d love to do just about now.

  “I know it was your dream. And ... you poured your lives and souls into that place. But I can’t,” I insist, convincing them—or myself that giving up is for the best.

  “Mom, Dad … I’m sorry, that isn’t me. I’ll never be as good as you.”

  My gaze diverts. I’m a fucking coward, I can’t even look at my parents’ gravestone as I disappoint them yet again. “I don’t think it will ever be even a shadow of what it used to be when you two were alive.”

  The cicadas are screeching nearby. I wonder who they lose while in hibernation. Maybe they’re crying for how much they’ve lost being stuck in the ground for fifteen years.

  “I’m miserable, okay?” I snap. “I don’t have time to bake for myself. I have one friend, and I love Paige, but she can’t be there for me like you were.”

  Several times, I open and close my mouth, trying to get some words out. I’m trying to say something to make them understand. It shouldn’t matter right? Getting my dead parents’ approval after all this time.

  As my chest constricts, the tears begin slipping down my cheeks.

  “Why does it feel like I’m losing you all over again?” I cover my face, sobbing just like I did when I got the news.

  Kelsey’s tactless voicemail. “Just so you know, Mom and Dad were in a car accident. The sheriff says they died at the scene. Since you’re closer, you should drive down there. I won’t to be able to fly home until Monday.”

  My entire world collapsed, I wanted to call Ollie, but how could I when he was out of reach? Everyone I knew wasn’t around Knox Ridge when it all happened. Since they passed, it’s been me against the world.

  Kelsey jumped at the chance to own the restaurant. That didn’t last long. Manual labor isn’t her thing. I should’ve stayed in Atlanta, let her deal with the mess she made. Or take the reins immediately before she let things collapse.