by Brenna Darcy
If the day before on the jetty was anything to go by, she’d set the timer on her cell phone for an hour and a half to tread on the side of caution. Getting lost in her story was hardly a valid excuse for being late, or the positive impression she hoped to make on the job.
When her alarm sounded, making her jump, Flic finished the thought she was on and closed her book. Not having unpacked, locating clothes to suit Mim’s request may take time. A plain white t-shirt or dress shirt, black trousers and comfortable black shoes were all items Flic knew she’d packed. Liking the casual but tidy look, Mim hosted a relaxed and inviting atmosphere, which appealed to the customers. She stressed that there was no room for stuffy dressed wait staff in her establishment, for which Flic was grateful.
Most of the locals dined at Mim’s leaving the more commercial places for the tourists. However, Mim’s reputation spread quickly, seeing visitors of the town frequent the restaurant too.
“Now don’t worry, Monday nights are usually quiet. A lot of locals, they’ll forgive you for getting orders mixed up and forgetting the specials. I’ll take care of the tourists, they’re a little less patient.”
Flic smiled, Mim was trying to help her relax, but her warning released a flurry of butterflies she struggled to settle.
Seven o’clock saw the restaurant so busy Flic didn’t think they’d manage to get a handle on it before midnight. There was no time to dwell on how unfit the last eight months had left her, she had no choice but to keep up. Mim was like a machine, laughing with the customers, taking orders and serving their food with ease.
It didn’t take long for Flic to sort the locals from tourists. Those more interested in her than the wine list or specials menu was an obvious giveaway. They had many questions, some she answered, and others she avoided without being rude, or dismissive. Mim had been right about their patience, however she was quick to settle into a rhythm. Efficiency finally presenting itself like it’d never left.
The restaurant quietened down by eight thirty, some of the locals left having arrived for six o’clock. All but two tables were occupied, and with meals served the rush slowed. Mim was in the kitchen helping Tim with a stock order. Flic busied herself behind the bar, stacking glasses and mugs in the dishwasher and wiping down the already clean bar top. Tim seemed an easy going and pleasant sort of guy, not to mention an amazing chef. Every meal he cooked and plated was presented as artistically as her breakfast had been. So many of the customers raved about the food, it hardly seemed relevant to keep telling him.
Looking up when the front door opened Flic couldn’t help but notice how the man that stood framed by the doorway was as endearing as the plated meals. Vaguely familiar, Flic dismissed the thought. He looked as though he belonged on a film set instead of in the rustic little restaurant, which would explain the recognition. He reminded her of one of the dark broody lead characters who starred in the movies she enjoyed. All with similar good looks, jawline angular and strong, flawless olive skin with the shadow of yesterdays shave, and piercing blue eyes, although as he approached, she notice his a brilliant green.
Mim was still in the kitchen so Flic decided to greet him. “Welcome to Mim’s, do you have a reservation?”
He looked around as though her question was intended for someone else. Realizing it wasn’t, he stared at her a moment before responding. “No, I don’t.”
Flic couldn’t decide if he fitted into the local, or tourist category. Far from friendly, but the frown etched into his face didn’t give off the holiday vibe either. She stood staring at him trying to pick his status when she realised too much time had passed, reaching the point of awkward.
“Are you waiting for anyone else tonight?”
“No, just me.”
“Okay, this way please.” Flic picked up a menu and led the way. The alone dining probably gave reason for his frown, especially if he was new to the experience and dreaded it as much as she did.
Flic noticed a few local’s smile and wave. He was obviously known to them, but she sensed an outsider all the same.
The only vacant or made up table was in the centre of the room, as Mim had placed a reserved sign on the other. Pulling a chair out and setting the menu on the table Flic moved so he could take his seat.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Pursing his lips, he shook his head as though the effort of dealing with her was barely tolerable.
“Ok, I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu shall I?”
When he didn’t even glance up Flic took her cue and left.
Walking past Mim on the way to the kitchen, she stopped to talk a moment. “A really grumpy local guy just walked in, I think my presence alone offends him, shall I take his order, or would you like to?”
Mim grinned, “leave him to me. Tim’s just finishing up desserts for table eight.”
“I’m getting the better deal I can assure you, he’s on table twenty-two.”
Mim laughed as Tim rang the order bell, and continued to chuckle as she walked into the restaurant. Flic didn’t have time to ask what joke she missed, instead turned her attention to the kitchen. Mim had warned her that Tim didn’t like prepared meals to sit clogging up his workspace, so she tried her best not to keep him waiting.
“You’re my quick little Flic, we’ll be keeping you around for a long time.”
She beamed. “I hope so.” Picking up the delicious looking desserts she carried them, three plates at a time to table eight. A table of six giddy women who looked older than her and far too old to be giggling as they were, had ordered the set menu making it easy to distribute their meals without having to interrupt their conversation.
“I dare you to go over and talk to him,” one said in a whisper loud enough for even Tim to hear in the kitchen.
“Come off it Brenda, you know Kelly isn’t interested in conversation, she’s told you so many times, talking’s over rated.”
“Well, Kel, if you don’t hurry up and get your skinny butt over there, I might have to beat you to it.”
“Go on Robyn,” another encouraged.
Flic left to get the other three desserts, noticing that the grumpy guy had relocated to Mim’s reserved table, the one they’d occupied during breakfast.
Mim obviously knew who he was, maybe the reservation was made for him and Mim forgot to write it in the book. Although she doubted Mim would ever forget to do anything, everyone here probably knew it automatically as his table. If he was so precious about where he sat maybe she should pre warn Mim that the women from table eight planned to ambush him. It would serve him right to have to talk to someone. Besides he could obviously handle himself, he didn’t appear to have a problem being rude.
Returning to the table she saw the one named Robyn was seated opposite Mr Grumpy, talking and laughing with him. A smile had replaced his frown. Flic set the desserts on the table, and after clearing table seven of the empty plates, headed toward the kitchen. On her way she noticed he handed her a slip of paper. Probably his number, or maybe his address, she guessed—or judged— what did it matter? Men were all the same, reinforcing her view that the only relationship worth having was not having one at all.
She, the hired help, wasn’t good enough to be acknowledged, but a pretty woman in a short skirt was worth the effort. Delicious as he was shallow, a neck breaker for those who only viewed the surface. There had to be more to a man to hold her attention. She’d learnt the hard way, but never again.
Flic didn’t know why this guy, clearly a jerk with a lovely face and mesmerising eyes, agitated her so much. With plenty of work to do she didn’t have time to analyse his behaviour further. Not stopping until almost eleven, when the restaurant was deserted and re set for the following morning, she was exhausted.
Mr Grumpy ate and left without so much as glancing at the dessert menu. She didn’t experience anyone else so unpleasant all evening. He was rude, dismissive and, judging by his behaviour toward Robyn, superficial as well.
Curiosity crept in and Flic couldn’t help but conjure up possibilities in her mind of what may have happened to make him so hostile. Mim didn’t seem the gossiping type, so she didn’t ask after him. Flic cringed and hoped her comment earlier hadn’t been taken with offense. In the future she’d learn to keep her opinions to herself, uncertain if he was a close friend of Mim’s, or worse, her son.
Tim left as soon as Mim announced the kitchen closed. “He spends too much time here as it is, I don’t like to keep him around if he’s not working,” Mim explained.
Flic’s decision to drive and not rely on her legs for the first night was a relief. Her feet throbbed and lower back ached as she walked to the car park with Mim. Any further and she wouldn’t have made it. Their cars were the only two in the parking area. The street was quiet and cast in shadow, it was a little eerie and Flic was glad she wasn’t alone. Mim pulled an envelope from her bag and passed it to Flic. “For tonight. So what do you think, will we be seeing you again?”
“That depends on you.” Flic wanted to say yes but a trial meant Mim made the final decision, no matter what she wanted.
“Good answer, I think we’ll get along fine. I like you.”
Flic grinned.
“You up to anything exciting tomorrow?”
“I might go for a walk and sit by the river and write some more, but other than that I’m not sure.”
“You write?” Mim raised an eyebrow.
Flic could have slapped herself after she said it and had hoped Mim wouldn’t pick up on her slip, but she had.
“I try.” Flic said dismissing the subject.
“Hmm, interesting. Anyway, Rachel won’t be in tomorrow night, are you interested?”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
“Good, same time. Tim will be happy. Rachel’s too slow for his liking. You did a good job tonight, enjoy your day tomorrow.” Mim opened her car door and slid behind the wheel before Flic could comment.
“Night, and thank you,” Flic called, and waved before getting into her own car. She never appreciated the comfort of her car seats as she did at that moment.
More exhausted than she’d been the night before, Flic dragged herself through the shower and collapsed into her bed. She had no intention of setting her alarm, and didn’t care if she slept all day. It wasn’t as though she was on holiday and had to make the most of her time in the area. Tomorrow was day two of her new life and what better way to spend it than relaxing?
Closing her eyes, Mr Grumpy’s frowning face invaded her thoughts. He already disapproved of her, imagine his face if he knew she slept in so late. Flic scowled, he wouldn’t care what she did. He barely even acknowledged her, why would he think anything of her sleeping habits. He hadn’t looked at her long enough to even register she was new in town, probably thought she was Rachel with a different hairstyle, that’s how much notice he took.
Why she was disturbing herself with thoughts of a guy she didn’t know, not even his name. Mim hadn’t offered it and Flic had no intention of asking. Besides, she couldn’t imagine any name suiting him more than Mr Grumpy. Any attention was wasted on him unless wearing a short skirt, and she had no desire for someone so arrogant and superficial. He was so irritating, the way he left her curious about him. Ridiculously good looking in such a dark mysterious way, a cliché if there was ever one, rude and unapproachable topped it off. The look on his face screamed he’d prefer her to be anywhere but next to him. The way he jumped in to stop her from asking for his dessert order was so irritating. And, to change seats. Who did that? No one she knew of, if they possessed even an ounce of social skills. Then again, she answered her own question. He didn’t possess social skills.
She rolled over hoping to disturb her thoughts enough to sleep. Why was she getting so wound up, she didn’t even know him, and quite honestly if this was the affect he had on her after a first meeting, she hoped she didn’t see him again. She needed to relax, not a cause to increase her blood pressure.
Eventually sleep found her, but she woke several times, as her usual dreams sort her out even though so far from home.
Chapter Four
THE WEEK FLEW BY TOO quickly. Flic worked every night as Rachel had a throat infection. When working with food, Mim insisted it more important to be well than come to work. If necessary, she’d turn away reservations, or decline groups without a booking.
Flic didn’t mind filling in, taking advantage of the opportunity to learn and familiarise herself with the specials and wine list before the weekend.
As promised, both Friday and Saturday nights saw the restaurant packed to capacity, to the point customers were making reservations for nine o’clock. They didn’t close the doors until after one in the morning.
After working seven nights straight, Flic looked forward to having a night off. How Mim and Tim managed without a break amazed her. The extra money, always appreciated, allowed her to take her time in searching for a second job.
Flic spent her days sleeping in, taking long walks to the river, relaxing and writing in her favourite spot set among the rainforest. She hadn’t had the opportunity to venture as far as the beach since arriving. Stacey’s description of how life would become, once a local, reflected hers already.
Her thoughts often wondered to Mr Grumpy. His nickname stuck, as she’d been too shy to ask his real one, in case Mim got the wrong idea. Not that he’d been in to the restaurant since that first night. Maybe he had a particular shitty day at work and wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be friendly. Then stay at home and be moody, her subconscious screamed.
His broody and mysterious demeanour was intriguing to say the least, but Flic didn’t want a man occupying her thoughts regardless of how sexy she thought he was. She’d been caught up in her head for almost a year trying to work out where she’d gone wrong and what she’d do without Ellie. She didn’t need to add a temperamental customer to the mix—trying to guess his problems when she already had enough of her own.
Past experience should’ve taught her she found the wrong sort of guys fascinating. The idea to move had been to eliminate complications from her life, not to add to them. He was certainly a problem, and anyone with a permanent scowl on his face most certainly had issues she need not concern herself with. However the more she tried not to think what those problems were, the more her thoughts drifted to him.
No one here knew her story, it was far from uplifting, and yet she managed to put on a front for strangers. She didn’t want to give them reason to be curious about her past. He wasn’t the stranger, and given the small town gossip grapevine, his story probably appeared some time before she arrived.
Unable to stand the silence and confinement of her room any longer, Flic gathered her tote bag and slipped on a pair of sandals. It was time she head for the beach.
It was as she remembered, rolling waves that frothed and bubbled as they broke on white sand. The continuous clapping sound was almost rhythmic, as it harmonised with the wind. There was nothing like the beauty of nature to consume her senses and rid her head of unwanted thoughts. She wanted to relax, to rejuvenate her mind before work that afternoon.
Anywhere else she would have expected the beach to be secluded in the middle of the week, but in the surfie town of Margaret River, crowded beaches were common, especially in the peak of summer. Flic had no desire to join the surf. N
ow days she preferred water that wasn’t home to sharks—becoming fish food was not something she was willing to risk.
Slipping her feet from her sandals, Flic walked up the beach to a secluded section, dropped her bag and sunk to the sand beside it. She didn’t bother to retrieve her towel, the sand was clean and soft, and she liked the way it felt between her bare toes.
Knees bent up to her chest Flic rest her chin on them and wrapped her arms loosely around her shins for support, as she watched the waves continue to roll one after the other.
Jason didn’t like the beach, so she neglected to come even though she loved it. The Western Australian beaches were some of the most beautiful in the world, drawing surfers and tourists from all over, and her little girl never got to experience the excitement of running from waves as they lapped around her ankles, or washed away sand castles, as the shore disappeared with the setting sun.
Flic allowed herself that moment to grieve for Ellie and the experiences they’d never get to share together. She’d been distracted since arriving, and a surge of guilt hit her. Working so much steered her focus from Ellie. If she wasn’t busy she was exhausted. In some ways she was grateful for the distraction. On the other hand, the realisation that she was permitting her memory to fade was distressing.
Not wanting to wallow in self-pity, Flic steered her thoughts to her living arrangements. She still felt like a tourist, an observer in the town she wanted to make her home. She’d already made the decision to stay and intended to start looking for alternative accommodation. The beautiful apartment was undoubtedly costing her mother a fortune. Being a holiday town Flic figured it might take some time to find somewhere suitable.
Maybe Mim would know of a place to rent, she seemed to know everyone in town. Not that she ever gossiped, she was good like that. Flic almost didn’t mind she’d slipped and told her about her writing. It was nice to have a friend she could talk to, and knowing that the town wouldn’t find out about it in less than twenty-four hours was comforting.
