Could Be the Reason
Claire Kingsley
Contents
Also by Claire Kingsley
1. Sadie
2. Gabe
3. Gabe
4. Sadie
5. Gabe
6. Gabe
7. Sadie
8. Sadie
9. Gabe
10. Sadie
11. Sadie
12. Gabe
13. Sadie
14. Gabe
15. Gabe
16. Gabe
17. Sadie
18. Sadie
19. Gabe
20. Sadie
21. Gabe
22. Sadie
23. Sadie
24. Gabe
25. Sadie
26. Gabe
27. Sadie
28. Epilogue: Gabe
Book Boyfriend: Chapter 1
Afterward
About the Book
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 Claire Kingsley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental or fictionalized.
Edited by Elayne Morgan of Serenity Editing Services
Cover and title plate by Wicked Good Book Covers
www.clairekingsleybooks.com
Created with Vellum
Also by Claire Kingsley
Book Boyfriend
Cocky Roommate (coming soon)
The Jetty Beach Romance Series
Must Be Love (Nicole and Ryan)
Must Be Crazy (Melissa and Jackson)
Must Be Fate (Cody and Clover)
Must Be Home (Hunter and Emma)
The Back to Jetty Beach Romance Series
Could Be Forever (Finn and Juliet)
Could Be the One (Lucas and Becca)
Could Be the Reason (Gabe and Sadie)
Bad Boy Romance ~ The Always Series
Always Have (Braxton and Kylie)
Always Will (Selene and Ronan)
Always Ever After: A Short Story
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1
Sadie
The guy at table ten is making me sick to my stomach.
He’s been leering at me since I took his drink order. The Porthole Inn isn’t fancy, but the customers are usually nice. Lots of families, sometimes couples on dates, groups of friends. This guy? He’s sitting alone and he watches me wherever I go.
I duck into the kitchen to get out of his line of sight. I wish he would just leave already. He’s been taking his sweet damn time eating his top sirloin and baked potato. The way he keeps licking his lips while his eyes linger on my chest is creepy beyond words. I’m a little worried he might wait until I get off work and follow me outside.
Well, I have a can of pepper spray for a reason. I’ll have it in my hand when I walk out to my car after my shift.
For now, I just need to keep doing my job. I’m new here, and the last thing I want to do is get in trouble. I barely have enough to make rent on my new place, what with having to pay the deposit, plus first and last. That wiped out what little I had saved up.
This has been a decent place to work, up until tonight. Todd, the manager, is gruff, but the tips aren’t bad. I figure if I keep my head down and don’t piss anyone off, I can fly under the radar and make enough money to get back on my feet. Starting over isn’t easy.
I take a second to tighten my ponytail and smooth out my little black apron before I brave the dining room again. Creepy guy’s eyes are on me the second I step out of the kitchen. I pointedly ignore him and go check on table twelve.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask.
They’re a cute couple—both have rings, so I’m pretty sure they’re married. The woman has a mass of blond curls and a bright smile. Her husband is attractive, with pleasant green eyes and dark hair.
“I think we’re fine,” the woman says.
“No dessert, sunshine?” the man asks.
“I’m so full,” she says. “Maybe next time.”
“No problem,” I say and slide the black folder with the bill onto the table. “Whenever you’re ready. No rush.”
I don’t want to check on creepy guy again, but I need to take table nine’s order, and that’s right next to him. I keep my eyes forward as I walk by his table, and stand so his back is to me. He actually turns around in his seat to watch me. I fidget and try to focus on writing down table nine’s orders.
Deep breaths, Sadie. He can’t do anything. He can look, and his thinly veiled sexual innuendo is disgusting, but soon he’ll be gone and I won’t have to deal with him anymore. I’ve got this.
I slip my notepad into my apron pocket and head toward the back. I’ve barely taken two steps when I feel a hand on my wrist, the grip like a vise.
“Let go of me,” I say, hissing under my breath.
Creepy guy’s lip turns up in a horrifying approximation of a smile. He’s right on the edge of his seat, his hand clamped down on my wrist.
“Come here, sugar,” he says.
Fear and rage surge through me and flashes of memory race through my mind. I’m pinned down, unable to move. Helpless. I gasp and try to blink the images away. My heart speeds up and adrenaline courses through my system.
“Let go.” I think it’s my voice, but I feel like I’m no longer in control of my body. I’m floating above myself, watching this scene play out as if it’s happening to someone else.
“Come on, sugar, be nice.” He tugs on my arm, hard, and I stumble toward him.
The detached feeling intensifies. I’m completely numb. I watch as my other hand balls into a fist and flies toward his face. There should probably be pain, but I feel nothing as my knuckles smack into his nose. He lets go of my wrist and I jerk backward.
Noise comes back to me in a rush, as if I was momentarily deaf. The guy howling in pain as he clutches his face, blood leaking out beneath his hands. The startled exclamations of the other customers. Todd’s angry voice, demanding to know what’s going on.
I bolt into the kitchen. Oh my god. What did I just do? Did I hit him? I look down at my hand. My knuckles are red and I can still feel the sensation of his nose crunching. Holy shit, I think I broke it. My hand aches, and my other wrist burns where he held me. I have red marks in the shape of his fingers.
The cooks stare at me, and within seconds, the rest of the staff is talking in whispers, casting wary glances my direction.
Todd marches back into the kitchen, his face full of fury. “Sadie. My office. Now.”
I swallow hard and follow him back, still reeling from shock. He closes the door behind me. I have a momentary flight reaction that’s so strong, I almost run out to my car.
“You’re fired,” he says. Nothing else. He doesn’t ask me what happened, nor does he appear to care. That’s it. I’m out the door.
“Todd, he—”
“You just broke a customer’s nose,” he says. “We could be sued over this.”
I hold up my wrist, still red where he grabbed me. �
�He held my arm and wouldn’t let go.”
He eyes my wrist for half a second. “Still. You hit him. I can’t promise he’s not going to call the police.”
My shoulders slump. You have to be kidding me. I must have a big fuck with me, no one will care sign on my back. Apparently jackass men can do whatever they want to me, and the minute I try to stand up for myself, I’m the one who gets screwed.
I moved to this stupid town thinking I could get away from this bullshit. But I suppose it exists everywhere.
“I’m not sorry that I hit that jerk.” I’m either going to lash out in anger, or crumple to the ground and cry. Anger it is. “He was staring at me and making disgusting comments all night, and his hand on me was the last straw. So fuck you, Todd.”
I whirl around and fly out of his office. I grab my coat and purse and stomp my way out of the kitchen to the back door. Pausing before I go into the parking lot, I get out my pepper spray. If that dick is out there waiting for me, I’m going to blind his sorry ass. I can feel fear trying to take hold, so I grasp onto the rage pouring through me like a lifeline. I can fall apart at home. I have to at least get to my car. Anger keeps me afloat.
My hands shake and I have a feeling if I am attacked, I won’t be able to use the stupid pepper spray. Tears fall down my cheeks—tears of impotent anger and frustration. Memories swirl through my brain, the old ones mingling with the new. It’s hard to keep them separate.
I pause next to my car and take a few shaking breaths. Keys. I need my keys. I slip the pepper spray into my pocket and pull my keys out of my purse.
“Excuse me?”
The woman’s voice makes me jump—literally. I clutch my chest and turn around, breathing hard.
“I am so sorry,” she says. It’s the woman with the curly blond hair from table twelve. Her husband is next to her, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say, but my voice trembles. I wish she’d just let me go. I’m holding on by such a thin thread, and the sympathy in her voice almost breaks me.
“Can I see your hand?” the man asks. “I’m a doctor.”
I glance down at my knuckles. They’re red and starting to swell. “I think I’m fine.”
“Maybe, but I’d feel better if you’d let me take a quick look.” He steps forward. “I’m Cody Jacobsen. This is my wife, Clover.”
I swallow hard. “Sadie Sedgwick.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sadie,” Clover says, nothing but sincerity in her voice. “Are you new in town?”
“Yes.”
I hold out my hand and Cody looks it over. “It doesn’t look broken. Can I touch it?”
I wonder if he has any idea how grateful I am that he asked first before touching me. “Sure.”
He places his palm beneath mine to keep it steady and gently probes the back of my hand. “Can you move your fingers for me?”
I wiggle my fingers. It hurts a little, but not too much.
“Good,” he says. “I don’t think you need an x-ray. Ice it when you get home to ease any swelling. If it swells up a lot, or you find you’re having trouble moving your fingers, get it checked out, okay?” He pulls out his wallet and hands me a business card. “My clinic is open seven days a week.”
I take the card and tuck it in my purse. “Thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”
“What happened in there was horrible,” Clover says. “You were a badass.”
Cody laughs. “Clover.”
“She was. You saw how he grabbed her. He needed a good punch in the nose.”
“Well, my boss didn’t think so.” I close my mouth quickly. I shouldn’t be dumping on these people. They’ve been very nice, but they don’t need to hear about my problems.
“What?” Clover asks. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” I say. “I’m sorry. I have to get home.”
“Wait,” Clover says. “You didn’t just lose your job, did you?”
“Obviously,” I say. “I punched a customer.”
Clover gasps, her eyes widening. “Oh my god, Cody. I told you I felt the tingle when I saw her.”
“Actually, you did say that,” Cody says.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I say.
“You’re a waitress,” Clover says, as if that explains everything.
“I was until a few minutes ago.”
“Exactly,” she says brightly. “This is perfect. I have a new job for you.”
“Um, sunshine, are you sure?” Cody asks.
She gives him a rather cute eyeroll. “Yes. Positive. We need a new server. We’ve needed someone for weeks. This is why Gabe hasn’t hired anyone yet. I was supposed to meet Sadie tonight and offer her a job. It’s fate.”
I’m so confused, I just stare at her. “I… what?”
Clover smiles. “I work at the Ocean Mark. It’s about twenty minutes north of here, so it’s a little bit of a drive. But it’s so much nicer than this place.” She turns to Cody. “And clearly we’re never eating here again, after they fired Sadie.”
“Clearly,” Cody says.
Clover turns back to me. “Come in tomorrow at three. It won’t be too busy on a Sunday, and Sam can start training you.”
I stare at her, feeling such a mix of surprise and disbelief, I’m not even sure where I am. “I don’t… Um… Okay?”
Cody gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, she does that to people.”
“I do what to people?” she asks.
“Bewilder them.”
“I do not,” she says. “Anyway, tomorrow. Three. Meet me there and I’ll show you around.” She winks at Cody. “See? Fate!”
“Make sure you ice your hand,” Cody says. “And I hope the rest of your night is better.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Good night, Sadie,” Clover says, beaming at me. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
Cody shakes his head with a smile as he puts his arm around his wife. Clover waves. I stand outside my car and watch them go, not sure what just happened.
I get in my car and lock the doors. Was that real? If I show up tomorrow, am I going to discover this was some kind of prank? Or that Clover is a crazy person? She didn’t seem crazy, just… enthusiastic. And Cody legitimately seemed to be a doctor, unless his business cards are fake.
How paranoid am I that I’m concocting a story about Cody and Clover that has them as con artists, posing as a doctor and his spunky wife who works in a restaurant?
I clutch the steering wheel and release a long breath. I suppose I’ll go to the Ocean Mark tomorrow at three. If Clover is crazy, I’ll just pretend like I’m lost. And if she isn’t, and she really did just give me a job minutes after I got fired, I’ll count my blessings.
Goodness knows this girl could use a break.
2
Gabe
My staff is already getting things prepped for tonight’s service when I come out of my office. They’re a good bunch—hard-working and professional. My kitchen has to operate like a well-oiled machine to give guests the culinary experience they’ve come to expect from my restaurant. I set the tone, but we have to be more than the sum of our parts. I’ve been fortunate to find some great people that I can count on.
Soft music plays in the background while we work. It’s a Sunday, and we’re not booked up, so I don’t anticipate a busy night. We’re in the middle of the tourist season, but Jetty Beach tends to have a lot of weekend visitors, so Sunday nights are quiet. Last night was a madhouse, so I’m sure we’ll all be glad for a slight reprieve.
The first orders come in, and I’m lost in my work, hardly paying attention to what’s going on around me. I work side by side with my sous chef, Clover. We’ve worked together for several years now, so we settle into a comfortable routine without much need for chit chat. We get the first meals plated and ready for the servers to take out.
I look up and notice someone I don’t recognize. Before I can wonder what a strange woman is doing i
n my kitchen, our eyes meet. The air around me seems to spark and I swallow hard. Her auburn hair is pulled up and the most dazzling green eyes I’ve ever seen stare back at me. She has a dusting of freckles across her delicate nose and cheeks. She starts to give me a shy smile, but it fades as I watch her. Sam, one of my head servers, leans in and says something to her. They grab the plated meals and walk back to the dining room.
“Clover, who was that?”
Clover glances at me. “Who was what?”
“The woman with Sam who just took table four’s dinner?”
“Oh, that’s Sadie,” she says with her signature smile. “She’s new.”
“New? I don’t remember hiring anyone.”
“You didn’t,” she says.
“Then why do we have a new server?”
“I hired her,” she says.
“You what?”
Clover takes a deep breath. “I hired her. That’s what restaurants do when they’re short on wait staff. They hire someone.”
“No, I hire someone when we’re short on wait staff.”
“Except you haven’t,” she says. “We’ve been short-staffed for weeks. Besides, it was fate. You expect me to argue with fate?”
“Oh boy,” I say. Clover has this weird thing with listening to fate. “Does she have any experience?”
“Yes,” Clover says brightly. “She was working at the Porthole Inn but she got fired.”
“What? You hired a server who got fired from her last job? Clover—”
“Wait, you need to hear the whole story,” she says. “It wasn’t her fault. Some guy was being a jerk and he grabbed her. And then she got in trouble for it. It was ridiculous. But also perfect, because I was there to hire her so she could work here. It was totally meant to be.”
I stare at Clover for a few seconds. I’m sure that train of logic makes perfect sense to her. But she can’t just hire someone without telling me. I do the hiring around here. “Clover, I know you were just trying to help, but—”
Could Be the Reason: (Gabe and Sadie) (A Back to Jetty Beach Romance Book 3) Page 1
