All In

by Marta Brown

  “Lane? Are you up there?”

  Chapter 8

  Ashley

  I hear noise from high above me before Lane comes half way down the spiral staircase and stops. He seems surprised to see me.

  “I hope it’s okay that I’m here.” He answers my question with a smile, then winces when the cut on his lip stretches too far.

  “Hi,” he says, reaching up and touching the angry looking injury.

  His swollen lip is a cringe worthy shade of purpley-black and his hair is more mussed than before, but he still somehow manages to look gorgeous, and I can’t help myself from staring. How is it possible he looks this good after getting into a fight? Not a little scuffle either, a real fight with blood and broken bones that he got in for me.

  “Lane, I’m so sorry. I feel terrible.”

  “Nah, it’s just a few battle wounds. No worries, they’ll heal.”

  “Thought you might need this,” I say, holding up the ice wrap Andrew made.

  “Thanks,” he says but neither of us moves. There’s a beat of awkward silence as we look at one another until I take a tentative step forward, toward the first stair, and raise my eye brows, silently asking for permission to come up.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. Come up.”

  “Ouch,” I say when I finally reach him and can see the cut up close. It’s worse than I thought.

  I lift the makeshift ice pack to his face and gently place it against his lip. He closes his eyes and a small groan escapes him that I assume is from the pain, but I hope it’s from the relief the ice brings.

  I can’t stop myself from letting my eyes roam his face while his are shut. His strong jaw, clenched tight, is covered with a day of stubble and his suntanned skin looks soft to the touch.

  A trickle of cold water runs down my arm from the melting ice and causes me to pull the icepack away from his face all of a sudden. His eyes fly open at my unexpected movement, and it’s then that I realize how close we’re standing to one another. I take a step backwards, to the step below, and hand him the icepack. “Be careful it’s dripping,” I say lamely. “So… you work here?”

  He looks around at our surroundings then runs his hand through his already messy hair.

  “Uh, yeah… I actually took over for my grandpa a few months ago.” He glances up the stairs and then back down to me. “You wanna see the top?”

  I nod and follow behind him as we climb the rest of the way up. I glimpse off the side of the railing and down the middle of the spiraling staircase when we reach the top and regret it immediately.

  “Whoa there,” Lane says as he reaches out and grips my waist when I sway slightly. His hands graze the small sliver of exposed skin between my jean shorts and tank top and it’s making me even more lightheaded than the height.

  “I uh… didn’t realize how high up we are.”

  “It took a little getting used to for me too. Just give yourself a few minutes, and try not to look down.” Lane smiles but keeps his hands wrapped around my hips.

  “I think I’m good,” I say after a minute, then chastise myself because he lets go of me.

  I continue to hold the railing tight as we take the final few steps to the top of the lighthouse. “What do you mean you took over for your grandpa?” I ask, trying to busy my mind, so I don’t focus on the height, or the way his hands felt on my skin.

  “Oh yeah,” he says like he’s completely forgotten what we were talking about before my dizzy spell. “I took over for him when his health started to go a few months back. He used to work here a few nights a week, actually asked my grandma to marry him here. I think working here made him feel close to her after she passed, ya know?” I can hear the sadness in his voice, and I understand how he feels considering this is my first summer on the island without my grandfather.

  “Oh. I’m so sorry. Is he…” I let my question fade off not knowing how to finish.

  “No. No… he’s okay,” Lane assures me, and I’m relieved. “Just couldn’t do the job anymore, so I took over his shifts. It’s just a few nights a week, and it gave me plenty of study time during the school year. And I don’t know, it’s kinda nice up here. Peaceful.”

  “That’s right, Andrew said you grew up here,” I say as a bright light passes over my face making me temporarily blind. When I open my eyes again, I quickly turn my back away from the rotating light and face out the window, the height forgotten.

  “Wow,” I say breathlessly. “It’s so beautiful.”

  I turn slowly to follow the revolving light as it illuminates everything it touches. The reflected flame casts a wide sparkling beam of light over the ocean’s surface, not just protecting ships in the night, but making the menacing black water look magical instead.

  “Yeah, it is,” Lane says quietly.

  I continue to follow the light as it shines on the tiny town I’ve called home every summer for as long as I can remember. It’s the first time I see the lighthouse for what it truly is; a beacon calling people home, and that’s how I feel right now, even standing next to someone who I hardly know. I feel like I’m home, maybe for the first time ever, and it’s a weird and wonderful feeling.

  “I wanted to say thank you again,” I whisper, turning back to face Lane. It seems wrong to talk in my full voice, afraid it will somehow disrupt the beauty. Lane turns, and I’m taken aback at how handsome he is even with the cuts and bruises peppering his face.

  “You’re welcome,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice low.

  “I really don’t know what has gotten into Gregory lately. I’m so sorry.” I shake my head, embarrassed Lane thought Gregory and I were a couple and even more embarrassed by the things Gregory said about me in front of Lane.

  “Don’t apologize for him. No girl should be spoken to like that, or grabbed in that way. Ever.” The fire in his eyes is so intense it makes my stomach flutter.

  “I slapped him, by the way. Hard.”

  The intensity in Lane’s eyes changes from burning fury to amusement. “Really?”

  “I did,” I say with a laugh even though the events that followed were anything but funny. “Right before he grabbed me, I slapped him so hard it left a welt on his face.”

  “Atta girl,” Lane says. “That guy deserves a whole lot more than a slap by a pretty girl and an ass kicking from me…but it’s a start.” He chuckles.

  Pretty girl?

  I feel my cheeks warm. Was Andrew right? Is it possible Lane might like me? And was Gregory right when he accused me of liking Lane?

  He really is unlike any guy I’ve ever met before. In the last day I’ve seen him show more character than I’ve ever seen Gregory Chase or any of the other guys I know, except for my brother, ever show. I’d come here with the excuse to give Lane the ice pack, but deep down, I really just want to get to know him more.

  “Do you want to hang out?” I blurt out before I can stop myself and I’m shocked by my own boldness. What is this boy doing to me?

  Lane looks around the small room then walks over to an old wooden desk and chair that’s in the corner and gestures for me to sit down. “Uh, yeah. Sure,” he says. “Sorry there’s not much to do up here though. I usually just read or listen to music.”

  Oh. He thinks I mean right now. I shake my head at myself. I’m so bad at this. I should change my mind, so I don’t make a fool out of myself, but I don’t want too. I really want to see him again.

  “Ahh, no. Not now,” I say, taking a deep breath because I’ve never done this before. “I mean…like tomorrow… night?” I’m hopeful that he’ll understand what I’m asking, and I won’t have to spell it out.

  I’m quickly losing my nerve as he stares at me, saying nothing. What if I’ve misconstrued everything and he’s just a do-gooder who’s not at all interested in me? Before I can change my mind, run down the stairs and never look back, his voice breaks through the uncertain chatter in my mind.

  “Oh.” His eyes widen minutely in understanding. “No.”


  “No?” I repeat, my voice cracking. Why didn’t I run? My face is on fire, and there is no hiding my embarrassment.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I mean, yes. I would love to hang out, but no, I can’t tomorrow. I have to work.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking momentarily shy before nearly knocking me over with a lopsided smile. “How about this weekend? I’m off on Saturday. We could have dinner?”

  My heart begins to slow down as the butterflies in my stomach start to speed up. “Then it’s a date?”

  He flashes me a smile that makes me feel dizzy all over again.

  “It’s a date.”

  Chapter 9

  Lane

  “Settle down and come here,” Grandpa says, getting out of his recliner. He’s been watching me with a fair amount of amusement over the last hour while I’ve run around the house getting ready for my date.

  I glance in the mirror then throw my hands in the air in frustration. I’m wearing my black work pants and white button down shirt, but the only neck tie I own is the one that completes the club uniform, which I refuse to wear on a date, to the club no less. But even without the club’s tie on, I still look like I’m about to wait tables, instead of going on a date with Ashley Whitmore.

  I follow Grandpa down the small hallway, lined with years of pictures of my mom and me growing up and into his bedroom. “Now, I know I’m just an old man, but I do know a thing or two about how to dress for a date. I still think you should wear a sports coat,” he says, opening his closet. “And I’m not sure what ‘old school’ means, but you have to at least wear a tie, no matter what ‘school’ you belong to.” He chuckles. He’s sharper than he lets on some days.

  “But…”

  “Here.” He holds out a grey silk tie with wide white diagonal stripes on it. It’s nice. I knot the tie then check myself out in the full length mirror covering his sliding closet door. The tie works, and I don’t look like a waiter. Much.

  I run my hands through my hair nervously, messing up the style I just spent twenty minutes on. I quickly fix it back into place and face Grandpa again. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

  “Well, how do I look?” I ask surprised by how nervous I am.

  “You look like you like this girl,” he says knowingly and he’s right.

  …

  While on my way to meet Ashley at the club, after a quick stop at the local florist shop to pick up a bouquet of roses, I can’t help but laugh at myself. The entire time Ashley and I were looking out at the town from the top of the lighthouse I was trying to man up enough nerve to ask her out. Car races, sure. Fist fights, no problem. Asking a girl out, no, asking this girl out on a date, total wuss.

  Even though Ashley technically asked me out, I called ahead and made a reservation at the club for dinner. Madison was happy to give me the best table in the house, the corner one overlooking the water. I want to show Ashley I can give her what she’s accustomed to.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants one last time and try to act like I’m not stressing out when she pulls up and gets out of her car.

  She looks stunning. Her long dark hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and I can’t stop staring. I let my eyes follow the curve of her neck down to the sparkly tank top she’s wearing and then to the short black shorts she has on, showcasing her long toned legs, the whole outfit topped off with a pair of heels. High ones.

  Damn.

  “Hi,” she says, a beautiful smile lighting up her sunburned cheeks. Or is it a blush? “Thanks for meeting me here, my parents are hosting a dinner party tonight at the house, it’s complete chaos.”

  “No problem.” I nod pulling out the bouquet of flowers and jutting them out at her like an idiot.

  “Thank you,” she says, delicately taking in their scent.” They’re beautiful.”

  I stand there staring at her like a fool. Those flowers have nothing on her.

  “Well…should we?” Her voice jolts me from my thoughts. She starts to walk around to the passenger side of my car before I stop her.

  “Um… I actually got us a reservation… here,” I say.” If that’s okay?” I add quickly.

  She glances at the entrance of the club and then back to me. “Oh. Of course. That was so thoughtful of you,” she says sweetly, but I wonder if it’s the truth. I hadn’t actually considered she might not want to be seen with me at her country club until this very second. Gregory may not be the only one to accuse her of ‘slumming it’ because of me.

  “We can go somewhere else,” I offer as my mind races for a restaurant that’s nice enough to take her to, but one I wouldn’t need a reservation at on such short notice.

  “No, Lane, this is great.” The smile she gives me calms my nerves until I walk into the lobby of the club as a guest and not for work.

  Mr. Billings sees us from across the lobby and quickly makes his way over to greet Ashley. He turns his attention to me next and speaks under his breath, “Lane, I don’t have you on the schedule tonight, and you’re a little over dressed for dish washing.”

  Dish washing? You’ve got to be kidding me. I obviously didn’t think this decision to bring Ashley to the club for a date thoroughly through. “Sir,” I whisper back, trying to keep my voice so quiet Ashley won’t hear, “I’m on a date.”

  Mr. Billings straightens up and looks at Ashley who is politely ignoring us, but I can tell she’s heard the entire exchange by the way she keeps staring at her feet, like they’re the most interesting things she’s ever seen. Inside I’m dying. I widen my eyes at Mr. Billings begging silently for a life preserver.

  He clears his throat and gives me a knowing nod, “Mr. McCarthy, sir, Miss Whitmore, right this way.” He gestures with a wide sweep of his arm toward the dining room entrance. I wonder as we walk if Mr. Billings is trying to help me out by treating me like a member, or if he’s covering his butt after insinuating a member’s date should get to the back and wash dishes. Either way I’m relieved when Madison shows us to a table tucked into the corner of the dining room with an amazing view of the harbor.

  “This is really nice,” Ashley offers once we’re seated and looking over our menus. I know she’s been here before, and this is probably not all that special of a restaurant to her, but I appreciate her acting like it is. It makes me feel like I’m not failing completely. Yet.

  A new waiter, one I’ve never met before, which I’m thankful for because I don’t feel like getting razzed in front of Ashley by one of my friends, takes our orders then returns promptly with our salads.

  I look down at the multiple sets of forks, knifes and spoons in front of me and realize I have no idea which utensil is for which course, even though I’ve set these tables a million times. I’ve never actually eaten at this nice of a restaurant or paid any attention to which utensil the Stays use. Crap. I steal a quick glance at Ashley’s place setting while she’s telling me about growing up in Hartford and luckily I’m able to deduce which fork she’s chosen to use.

  Crisis averted.

  We fall into comfortable conversation during dinner, never experiencing any awkward first date silences. She’s easy to be myself around, and I like to listen to her talk. She’s smart and funny, and when she laughs it makes me want to say something funny again so that I can keep hearing it. What is this girl doing to me?

  “And how was everything this evening?” our waiter asks, his eyes lingering on Ashley, and I suddenly understand why Gregory yelled at me.

  “It was great, thanks,” I say, pulling his attention back to me.

  “Very good, sir.” He nods, discreetly placing the bill next to me and walking away.

  I stop myself from making a choking sound when I open the thin black leather folder and see a hundred and twelve dollar bill for dinner tucked inside. I’ve worked here for three summers so I shouldn’t be surprised by the total, but I am. I clearly miscalculated when I got cash out of my savings earlier today.

  Shit.

  I do a quick calculation in my h
ead and realize I have a little less than a hundred bucks left on me after buying Ashley flowers and filling up my tank. My heart starts to pound, but I try to keep my face expressionless while my mind scrambles with a way to pay for dinner.

  I give her a quick smile as a plan develops. “Will you excuse me? It seems I left my wallet in the car,” I say to her nonchalantly, even though on the inside I’m freaking out.

  “Of course,” she says, glancing at the check then back up to me. “But—”

  “I’ll be right back.” I give her my most confident smile before casually walking out of the restaurant and then out the front door. The fresh air hits me like a welcome drink of water in the desert, and I’m able to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

  My plan will work. I hope. Otherwise I’m gonna have to beg Mr. Billings to take it out of my paycheck.

  “Vic?” I call out into the mostly empty room but don’t see him anywhere.

  “Vic’s gone for the night,” Pete says from a table in the back of the garage where he has his feet propped up and is reading a magazine. “A little over dress for detailing, don’t ya think?” He smirks.

  Funny. Haven’t heard that one before.

  “Dude, Pete, can you do me a huge favor?” Technically he still owes me one. “I’m on a date right now, and I don’t have enough cash to pay the bill.”

  “Who’s the lucky lady?” he says, wagging his eyebrows up and down exaggeratedly.

  “Ashley Whitmore.”

  He drops his feet from the table with a loud thud. “Whoa.”

  “Exactly.” I tap my foot frantically on the concrete floor. “So?”