Although they each had a sizable trust fund, her father controlled the funds until their thirtieth birthdays, when he expected them to have learned how to be contributing members of society. They received regular generous payments, but, like her brothers, Arden prided herself on making her own way.
“Really?”
She nodded. “Yes. So if you need help I’m willing.”
“I appreciate it. Joni usually fills in when I need a waitress, but she’s a member of the wedding party. How about you come in tonight and work a shift so you can get a feel for things? I’ll pay you, of course.”
“You don’t need to pay me. I am staying in your house after all.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll be paid. If you have a couple of minutes now, we can go over a few things to get you oriented.”
Arden followed Brandon out of the office, watching as he moved confidently through the kitchen. He showed her around the spotless room, his pride evident in his every word, before leading her to the dining room. Although she tried to focus, she was distracted by the play of his muscles under his shirt. His shoulders were broad, his chest well-sculpted, but it was his back that was most interesting to her. The muscles there were strong and flexed as he moved a chair out of the way.
When the tour was over, they returned to his office. He smiled and butterflies began fluttering in her stomach. He might not know it, but his grin was a lethal weapon.
“So, you still interested?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Let’s take care of the paperwork.”
“Paperwork?”
“Yes. I want to be able to pay you properly.”
She couldn’t fill out anything. He’d need a copy of her driver’s license. And then he’d know her last name. She hated to think that he would change once he knew who she was, but she’d seen it too many times to believe differently. Money changed people. But she still wanted to help him. Joni had told her this reception was a big opportunity for him, and she didn’t want him to look bad simply because he needed more waitresses. She blew out a breath and inspiration hit her. “Do you pay Joni?”
“No. She’s pretty hardheaded and won’t let me. She does keep her tips, though.”
“Then I’ll take the same deal Joni has. No salary and I’ll keep my tips.” She didn’t need the money, after all. And he did need the help.
“That’s ridiculous. You can’t work without pay.”
“Why not? You aren’t charging me rent. If you insist on paying me, I’ll have to pay rent. Either that or I’ll move out. Since the bed-and-breakfasts are full, and my car is in the shop and I have no way of getting to one of the hotels you mentioned, I’ll probably end up sleeping on a park bench.” She was playing dirty, but she wanted to help. She hadn’t been raised to be a taker. She needed to pull her own weight.
He opened his mouth and she knew he was going to continue to argue. She cut him off. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
He frowned with displeasure and ran a frustrated hand down his face. “I guess I’ll take it.”
Chapter Four
Brandon plated the seared sesame tuna, and expertly added the side dishes, dipping sauce and wasabi paste, thus finishing the order for table seven. He gestured to the waitress, who grabbed the tray and hustled into the dining area of the restaurant.
The crowd was unexpectedly large for a Tuesday night. He knew part of the reason was all the visitors in town for the wedding. Ordinarily he would be thrilled with the turnout, but tonight he was concerned because of his newest waitress. He didn’t want poor service to result in a less-than-spectacular dining experience for his guests, new and regular alike. Great food was only a portion of what Heaven on Earth offered.
True, Arden had experience, but every restaurant had a different way of operating. Although he’d given her a quick orientation, he didn’t expect her to remember everything the first night. It generally took at least a week before the waitstaff met his expectations. Of course he had no idea how long she intended to stay in Sweet Briar or if she was interested in working for him on a long-term basis. He’d just be grateful if she stayed through the reception and didn’t do any harm to his restaurant’s reputation in the process.
Brandon turned his attention back to work. The next hour flew as he prepared dinners quickly yet carefully, ensuring each one was cooked perfectly and attractively presented. Once things slowed down, he went into his office, stripped off his stained whites and put on a navy suit jacket. He removed his hairnet and adjusted the leather strap holding his dreadlocks in place.
He visited the dining room at least once each night. As owner, Brandon wanted his patrons to know he valued them and appreciated their business. More than that, he wanted their feedback. If there was a problem with the food or the service, he wanted them to tell him, not their Facebook friends or Yelp.
He stood at the entrance to the dining room for a moment soaking in the sight and the sounds of his restaurant. The pale gray walls and bluish gray floor-to-ceiling curtains provided the perfect backdrop to the snow-white tablecloths and napkins. The silver-and-crystal chandeliers gave off just the right amount of light to be flattering and cozy at the same time. The soft background music added ambience, but didn’t interfere with the quiet conversations his patrons were having.
Satisfied that all was well, Brandon stepped into the dining area. His eyes immediately found Arden. Several diners were scooted to one side of a table and she was taking their picture. She saw him and her face lit up. His pulse leaped and his blood pounded in his veins. He cursed under his breath. No way was he getting caught under her spell. He brushed a hand over the scars his jacket covered. His days of trusting women were in the past. The last time he’d put his faith in a woman he’d barely escaped with his life. A woman could pass a lie-detector test and he still wouldn’t believe a word she said. Not anymore.
“You’re in luck,” Arden told the patrons, still holding his gaze captive. “The chef is in the dining room. Perhaps he’ll pose for a picture with you.”
As one, the group of eight people turned and looked at him expectantly. Even though taking pictures did not come close to the top hundred things he wanted to do each day, he’d long since accepted it as part of the job. For a reason that still escaped his comprehension, his guests loved being photographed with him. Apparently, it made the dining experience even more special.
Holding back a sigh, he took his place among the men who were standing behind their seated dates. After Arden snapped a few photos—which she showed to the women, who cooed appreciatively—he shook hands and chatted briefly with them. Each person raved about their meal and the service, promising to return soon and to tell their friends about their experience.
As he crossed the room to greet other diners, he caught another glimpse of Arden. She was the one who should have been photographed. Even in the waitress uniform of a white blouse and straight black skirt, she was absolutely stunning.
Her haircut wasn’t traditional, but the short waves were extremely sensual. He’d always liked long hair, believing it was more feminine. Of course, since he now wore his hair long, perhaps he should change his way of thinking. On Arden, he loved the way her hairstyle allowed him to see her face. And what a face it was.
Her brown eyes were warm, revealing an inner kindness. Having seen her face washed clear of makeup he knew her light brown skin was truly flawless and not the result of artfully applied makeup. But it was her quick smile and general openness that appealed to him most, drawing him in even as he did his best to resist.
He dragged his eyes from Arden and continued to work his way around the room. Leah, one of his veteran waitresses, grabbed his arm and steered him to a nearby table where a couple in their forties sat, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. “This is Chuck and Valerie Harris. They’re cele
brating their twentieth anniversary.”
Brandon shook the man’s hand and smiled at the woman. “Congratulations. I’m honored that you chose to celebrate here.”
“My wife and I heard so many things about your restaurant we just had to try it.”
“I hope we lived up to your expectations.”
“Our meals were perfect and the service was outstanding. Now we know why everyone was raving about this place.”
Brandon smiled again. “I never get tired of hearing that. Have you ordered dessert?”
“Not yet,” Mrs. Harris said. “I’ve narrowed it down to three choices, but I can’t make up my mind.”
“Get them all. Eat one now and take the other two for later as an anniversary gift from us to you.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Harris asked, beaming.
“Positive.” He glanced back and forth between the two. “Again, have a happy anniversary.”
He spoke with a few more customers, posed for one more picture, then returned to the kitchen, his favorite place in the world. The next hours sped by as he prepared a variety of perfect meals.
Finally the night ended and the last patrons left, happy sighs trailing them out the door. The waitstaff punched their time cards and then left, calling goodbye as they went.
He’d offered Arden a ride home, which she’d eagerly accepted. He told himself it only made sense as she was currently sleeping in his guest room and not because he wanted to spend time alone with her. She watched him now with a quizzical expression.
“You can wait in my office if you like. Matt has to clean in here and I need to sanitize the kitchen. It won’t take long, okay?”
* * *
Arden’s gaze went to Matt, Brandon’s young dishwasher and custodian, who was busy clearing tables. The teen was placing the centerpieces on a serving tray, tossing stray silverware in a bin, then bundling the tablecloths and napkins together. He moved quickly and efficiently.
“I’ll help Matt.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but there’s no sense in sitting around when there’s work to be done.”
She saw surprise and approval in Brandon’s eyes before he turned and left the dining room. Ordering herself not to stare after him, Arden approached the young man. “Want some help?”
“Waitresses don’t clean up.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Sure. As long as you don’t mess up. It’ll take twice as long if I have to go behind you to fix your mistakes.”
He was so serious Arden had to swallow a smile. “Tell me what you want me to do. And how.”
He gave such elaborate instructions it was clear he believed his job cleaning the dining room was more important than Brandon’s job of preparing the food. The teen watched her clear a table of four, hovering like a mother hen and ready to pounce at the first sign of a mistake. When she finished he nodded, satisfied she wouldn’t mess it up too badly. “You can put the tablecloths and napkins on the bench in the entry so Brandon can take them to be laundered.”
“Okay.”
Matt grabbed a vacuum cleaner and set to work on the floor, laboring over each square inch as if dirt was another word for sin. Well, cleanliness was next to godliness. She laughed at her own wit, then got back to work. They had just finished when Brandon returned, his stained chef’s jacket draped over his arm. He bundled it along with the linens into a laundry bag.
“It looks great in here.” He clapped Matt on the shoulder. “Good man.”
“Arden helped,” Matt mumbled, shuffling his feet, yet standing a bit taller. Obviously Brandon’s praise meant a lot.
“I hardly did anything. Besides, you showed me what to do.”
Matt flashed a grin that disappeared quickly and he pulled on a gray hoodie. “I’d better get going. Mom has to get up early for work, but she won’t go to bed until I’m home.” Brandon grabbed the bag of laundry and set the alarm. The three of them stepped outside and Matt headed for a bicycle leaning against the side of the building. A moment later he was pedaling down the moonlit street.
The wind blew and the silver chimes dangling in the trees tinkled. Although the day had been warm, the ocean breeze cooled the town at night. Arden wished she had thought to bring a sweater. She folded her arms across her chest in a futile attempt to ward off the chilly air.
“Cold?” Brandon asked. He was so near she felt his warm breath on her cheek. Her stomach imitated a carnival ride and looped the loop.
“Not really.” The wind gusted again, harder this time, and she shivered. “Well, maybe a little.”
He slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
She closed her eyes briefly, indulging in the comfort of that simple gesture. His jacket was still warm from his body and when she inhaled, his clean, musky scent surrounded her and she sighed.
Her eyes popped open. Was she crazy? Back in Baltimore, she’d just been misled and betrayed by a man who on the outside appeared to be a perfect gentleman. But her experience with Michael-the-weasel had turned out to be worse than finding gunk on the bottom of her favorite shoes. She wasn’t going to be so gullible again. Just because Brandon was gorgeous and smelled so good didn’t mean she had to go and do something stupid like fall for him. She was on a man-free diet.
Brandon dropped the bag of linen into the back of his truck, then opened the passenger door for her. Despite reminding herself of the need to embrace the single lifestyle, her heart beat a mean pitter-patter at his nearness. Trying not to flutter her eyelashes, she smiled graciously and climbed into the truck, then used the seconds it took him to circle the car and get in to mentally shake some sense into herself.
As he pulled out of the parking lot and into the street, her mind searched for something to distract her from the man beside her. Perhaps conversation would help tamp down her attraction. “Tell me about Matt.”
Brandon glanced over at her and smiled. “Matt was my first employee.”
“Really? But I thought your restaurant was three years old. No way is that kid a day over seventeen.”
“Sixteen. Matt started hanging around a few days after Justin and I started building the restaurant.”
“Who’s Justin?”
“He and I were partners. I bought him out a couple of months ago. Anyway, Matt was thirteen at the time and begged me for a job. I brushed him off and told him to come back when he was sixteen.”
Brandon shook his head at a memory he clearly found amusing. “He showed up the next day saying he was ready for work. He’d come equipped with a broom that was more stick than straw and started sweeping the walk in front of the building. I shooed him away and told him to come back in three years. The next morning I got to work shortly after dawn. Believe it or not, the kid was already there. He was washing the pane window with Windex and a ratty T-shirt.”
“Impressive.”
“I thought so. I couldn’t hire him to work in the restaurant, but I told him he could run errands for me with a parent’s permission. He returned the next day with his mother. She thanked me profusely for hiring her son. Apparently, her husband had run out four years earlier, leaving her to raise Matt and his two younger siblings on her own. While Matt grabbed a broom and kicked up a cloud of dust, his mother confided that the family was barely staying afloat. Matt had been picking up odd jobs, giving his mother all of his earnings.”
“And you hired him to do jobs you could have done on your own.”
Brandon shrugged. “It was nothing.”
Maybe not to him. She was sure it was a big deal to Matt and his family who needed the cash. And Brandon had taken Arden into his home without a second thought. True, she had the money to take care of herself, but money wouldn’t put a roof over her head when there was no room in the
inn. He’d just stepped in and helped. If she wasn’t careful she would start thinking of Brandon as a real-live hero.
“When he turned sixteen I hired him to work in the restaurant. He’s probably the best employee I’ve ever had.” He looked at her and winked. “Well, besides you, that is.”
She laughed. “Of course.”
Brandon pulled the car into the driveway. It felt so natural to walk by his side at the end of the day. Was it only yesterday that her car had broken down and he’d rescued her, welcoming her into his home? She felt so close to him, so comfortable with him, they could have known each other all of their lives. And now, she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
* * *
Arden peered into the restaurant’s dining room. Over the past couple of days she’d worked the lunch shift once and the dinner shift three times. At first she worried that Brandon was giving the opportunity to work to her instead of someone who might actually need the money. She was relieved to discover that wasn’t the case. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping waitresses and actually needed her help. That made her feel better about accepting his continuing hospitality. This was a fair trade with each giving something the other needed.
Tonight the restaurant was closed for Carmen and Trent’s wedding rehearsal dinner. The bride had chosen purple and teal as her wedding colors and the dining room was decorated accordingly. The usual white napkins had been replaced with blue-green ones. The beautiful centerpieces were comprised of flowers ranging from the palest lilac to the deepest violet. Light flickering from the numerous candles around the room bounced off the softly lit crystal chandeliers. She had never seen a more romantic setting.
The Waitress's Secret Page 5
