by C. Morgan
Nick looked at Fulton as if he were just seeing him. “Who are you?”
“Does it matter?” Fulton shot back.
Nick looked Fulton up and down with his lip curled. “No, I don’t suppose it does. Amara, I’m waiting.”
Fulton began to get up. The last thing I wanted was a brawl in my new restaurant. “Nick, I think it would be better if you found yourself a seat or left.”
“You heard her, pup,” Fulton said with a sneer.
Nick glared at him. “You look like the help.”
I got to my feet before Fulton could. “Nick, you need to go.”
He looked at me with disdain. “You’re right. I do. I’ve got a hotel for the weekend. I’ll give you a call later.”
Fulton made a growling noise low in his throat.
“Sure,” I said without committing to actually answering the phone.
Nick walked out with his chin high. Kerri shot me a look before going back to what she was doing. I breathed a small sigh of relief before taking my seat and looking at Fulton. He looked completely unashamed of his behavior.
“Nice guy,” he commented.
“He isn’t a bad guy,” I replied.
“The guy was insulting your restaurant. Tell me you didn’t miss that.”
“It’s just how he is.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” he asked, his eyes holding mine.
“No.”
“Good. That guy is a putz.”
“Thank you for sticking up for me but you can’t just go around knocking the teeth in of people you don’t know,” I lectured.
“Sure, I can.”
I bit back my smile. I was actually kind of thrilled to have him sticking up for me. He was the big, strong protective type—something else I didn’t think I liked. I was used to being independent and strong, or at least trying to be. “I’m sure you can, but it isn’t always the right thing to do.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. I need to get going.”
“Fulton, wait. You didn’t even get to try the lobster cakes.”
“I’m not hungry. Thanks for the beer.” He took a five-dollar bill from his wallet and put it on the table before walking out.
I stood and watched him go. I had insulted him.
Kerri came toward me, a big smile on her face. “Well that was impressive.”
“What was?” I muttered.
“Two guys, neither of which are your boyfriend, nearly went to blows over you.”
“They did not.”
“Oh, they did, and my money was on Fulton. He would have wiped the floor with your suit-and-tie boy.”
I rolled my eyes. “They were not going to fight, and they certainly weren’t fighting over me.”
She shrugged. “Whatever you say,” she said and walked away.
It certainly looked like they were about to fight. It was strange. There was nothing between any of us. Fulton seemed to have staked his claim without mentioning it to me.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Chapter 9
Fulton
We were getting a late start for the day. I hated getting a late start. It fucked up the entire day. I was a morning person. Technically, I supposed I was a night owl as well. I didn’t sleep much. When I wasn’t fishing or working on my boat, I was tracking down cheap bait, surfing the internet for cheap equipment, and my secret obsession, shopping for boats I couldn’t afford. When I wasn’t doing all of that, I was working on my house.
I was a loner for the most part. I didn’t mind. No friends meant no disappointments and no drama. Stanley was too simple to be dramatic. Not simple in an unintelligent way, but simple as in he just didn’t give a shit about much of anything.
“Did you get the new buoys?” Stanley asked, carrying the box onto the boat.
“Yes,” I answered. “And if the dumb fuck who keeps smashing my buoys hits these, there is going to be a problem.”
Stanley laughed. The last few weeks, I was certain someone had deliberately run directly over my buoys. They were smashed, cracked, and barely afloat. I spent the money and ordered more. My signature hot pink, black, and neon yellow was ugly as sin, but it worked. Other fishermen gave me shit about the pink, but I didn’t care. A pink buoy did not negate my manhood.
“Is this it for bait?” Stanley asked, eying the single barrel.
I nodded. “There’s another shortage.”
“Shit.”
“I know. This cost me almost twice what we normally pay.”
He shook his head. “We’re in the wrong business. We need to fish for herring.”
“May not be a bad idea,” I agreed.
We finished loading the boat, getting ready for a long day out. It should have been done yesterday, but yesterday had been spent fucking with the engine. There was always something sucking my time, I felt like.
“Can we eat before we go?” Stanley asked.
I looked up at the sky, the sun slightly covered by filmy clouds. The weather was fine, which meant we had all day and evening to fish. “Fine, but I want to be quick, and don’t bitch about coming in by five.”
“I never bitch,” he retorted.
We headed down to one of the fish shacks and ordered a quick lunch before finding a seat at one of the picnic tables.
“Did you go to that restaurant opening?” he asked. I happened to mention it and he thought it was a good idea if I played nice. I had my own ideas about how I could play nice with the sexy owner.
I nodded. “I stopped by for a minute.”
“How was it?”
“It’s a nice place.”
“And the food? Any good?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t eat.”
“Why in the hell do you go to a restaurant and not eat? I heard they were giving out free food. Don’t tell me you’re too good for free food.”
“I didn’t have the chance to eat. I wasn’t there long enough.”
“Why? She kick you out? Tell me you showered off the fish guts before you went.”
“I showered.”
“Then?”
“Me and Amara were talking a bit. Some asshat came over and was talking shit. Instead of beating the hell out of him in the pretty new restaurant, I walked away. Technically, he walked away but I left shortly after.”
“Who was the guy? Should I get my nine mil?”
I rolled my eyes. Stanley didn’t have a nine mil or anything else. “I don’t know, a friend or boyfriend of the new owner.”
“Oh, one of those uppity ups.”
“How do you know?”
“I was surfing the net, watching cat videos like I do, and I saw an advertisement for the restaurant.”
That surprised me. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yep. The owner is the one you are hot after?”
“I’m not hot after her,” I snapped.
“Yes, you are.”
“Is there a point to this?” I asked.
“Do you know who she is?”
“Amara,” I answered.
“She’s a rich bitch.”
“Shut the fuck up. She’s not a bitch.”
He grinned before holding up a hand. “I didn’t mean she was a bitch. I just meant she’s rich.”
I suspected she was from the upper crust. “Like how rich?”
“Like her daddy is Barry Murdock.”
The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I didn’t believe for a second Stanley actually knew the guy either. He was just flaunting his knowledge. “Who is he?”
“Murdock Investments,” he said with a great deal of satisfaction.
Now I knew the name. “No shit?”
He nodded. “Yep. Your little lady is like a billionaire. Hell, maybe they are zillionaires. I’m not sure, but I know she is rolling in dough.”
“She doesn’t act like she’s that rich,” I told him.
“So far.”
“How does a rich person act?” I shot back.
He arc
hed his back, sticking out his chest with his hands up. “Oh my, look at this dirty table,” he said in a falsetto voice. “Butler, butler, wipe this table.”
I smirked. “She doesn’t talk like that. From what I saw, she doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty and actually helping out.”
“She’s just trying to pretend she’s a normal person,” he said.
“How would you know?”
“I just do. I watch a lot of TV. There are like a million movies about rich girls that want to know what it’s like to be normal and all that bullshit. They like their money, but they also want to play poor.”
He was onto something there. “Oh well. Doesn’t matter. I’m just selling her lobster.”
“You’ve got a crush on her.”
“I don’t crush,” I told him. “I’m not twelve.”
“Okay, you’ve got a thing for her. You want to know what little rich girl is like.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Finish eating. We’ve got work to do. We’re not rich. We have to earn our living.”
“You’re saying she doesn’t?”
“I’m saying we do.”
As we were finishing our lunch, my phone rang. I looked down and saw it was Amara. I wasn’t going to let on I was anxious to talk to her. I got up from the table and turned my back to Stanley. It wasn’t like I needed privacy, but I didn’t want him talking shit about my face lighting up or something stupid like that.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hi, Fulton?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Amara,” she said. “Murdock.”
“Yes, Amara. I know who you are.”
She softly laughed. “I guess you probably don’t know a lot of Amaras. My parents had fun with that one.”
She was rambling, which told me she was nervous. Either she was getting ready to fire me or ask me out. I had a feeling it was the first. “I hope your friend wasn’t too upset,” I said, working my way up to an apology.
“He’s not really my friend. I am sorry for his behavior.”
“Don’t apologize for him.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to enjoy a meal.”
“It’s fine,” I said, looking over my shoulder to see Stanley stealing a few fries from my basket. I shot him a glare before turning my back to him again. “Did you need something?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. I was wondering if it would be possible to get another order tomorrow. I’m expecting it to be just as busy tonight and I don’t know if I will have enough to make it through the weekend.”
“I can. I’ll have it to you in the morning.”
“I’m sorry about the short notice,” she blurted out. “I hope you didn’t have plans.”
“I’m getting ready to go out now,” I answered. “I don’t make plans for the weekend. I work.” It came out much harsher than I meant it to. I supposed I was a little irritated she was from one of the richest families in Maine. It shouldn’t matter, but I was still carrying a chip on my shoulder from my rough childhood.
“Oh, okay,” she said. “I appreciate it. I truly do.”
“Yep. I’ll have it to you in the morning.”
“Thank you. Have a good trip.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Thanks.”
I ended the call and turned back to Stanley, catching him with his hand in my basket of fries once again. “You may as well finish them,” I snapped when he snatched his hand away. “I don’t want to eat them after your grubby hands have been on them.”
“My hands aren’t grubby.”
“We need to go. We have another order to fill. We aren’t coming in until we have every last lobster she needs.”
“She?” he asked. “Oh shit, rich b—” He didn’t finish what he was going to say when I shot him a look. “I mean the wealthy young lady?”
“Yes.”
“Now that you know she is made of money, can’t we charge her more?”
“No.”
“Come on. We’re going to be busting our asses all day to get her a last-minute order. That should be worth a little more.”
He had a point, but I wasn’t going to raise the rates after the first order. “You’ll be fine. It isn’t like we haven’t fished all day and night before.”
“No, but it doesn’t mean I like it.”
“I packed extra snacks for you,” I told him.
“Bullshit. I know you didn’t.”
He was right and I wasn’t going to waste time by running down to the store. “Let’s move.”
We packed up and headed out. Stanley was beside me, finishing the fries I didn’t eat. “You know, if you raised your prices, we could be zillionaires.”
“We could also be broke,” I shot back. “We make money because we’re cheap. Accept it. The minute I raise my prices to match the rest of the competition, I’ve got no leverage. I’ve also got no income. Do the math. This is trickledown economics.”
“I don’t know what the hell you are saying.”
“I’m saying if I don’t make money, you don’t make money.”
“Oh.”
Yes, it was the same conversation we had almost daily. I knew he wanted us to make more. So did I. Unfortunately, it was a risky situation. I couldn’t afford to lose even one customer because of a price increase. The increase would not cover the money I lost from a single client. If I lost several, I was fucked.
For now, I was keeping things even. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, but I figured I would know it when I saw it. It was all about keeping a roof over our heads and our bellies full. Getting rich was not in the cards for me. Making it was my goal. I kept the bar low. No need to suffer disappointment if I didn’t have to.
The bouncing of the boat soothed me, lulling me into deep thoughts about Amara. I told myself to quit thinking of her as mine or something to have. She was not in my league. She was pampered and would expect certain things from any man she dated. That guy that showed up was the kind of man she dated.
It really was too bad. She was missing out. I could show her a good time. I could show her what it was like to be with a person with nothing to lose. I believed we got to live a little freer than people like her. She had to follow the rules. I didn’t. I may never be rich, but I would always be free.
Chapter 10
Amara
I checked the inventory levels for a second time and was very worried. The first two days of business totally blew my projections out of the water. I was grateful for my father’s help, but a little warning would have been nice. I was afraid I was going to run out of product before my scheduled delivery, which meant I was going to have to place an emergency order and pay the fee that went along with it.
It was early. No one else was in the place. I liked the quiet. I had my phone plugged into the portable Bluetooth speaker and was enjoying the peacefulness, even though I had my music on. The last couple of weeks, it felt like there was always someone around me. The solace was welcoming.
I was singing loud and proud to the music when I heard the buzzer on the back door. I looked at the time. I wasn’t expecting any employees and I doubted Kerri would be coming in this early. I walked to the door and opened it a few inches. “Hello?”
Fulton’s face appeared. I shrieked and jumped back.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” I said with a laugh, pushing the door open. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.”
“I told you I would be here. I wanted to make sure you got it as early as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anyone to help?” he asked, looking over my shoulder.
“Nope. Just me.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Fulton, I can help,” I insisted.
He gave me a look, like he was sizing me up. “Okay.”
We spent the next few minutes bringing in the load. He helped me transfer the shipment into my cooler. “I can’t believe I a
lready went through the first shipment. I have gone through just about everything.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
I smiled. “It is. I’m sorry about the other night.”
“Don’t be. Your friend is an asshole. You can’t help that.”
I had to laugh. He was right. “He is not technically my friend.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Come into my office and I’ll get you paid.”
I quickly checked his invoice, trusting it would all be on the up and up. He seemed like an honest man. A brutally honest man.
“Thanks,” he said and took the check from me.
“Are you headed out fishing?” I asked him.
“I don’t think so. Why? Do you need more?”
“No, I was going to offer to make you something to eat. I guess you could call it a late breakfast.”
“Why?” he asked, his skepticism written all over his face.
“Because I invited you to come by and try the food and then things happened and you never got a chance to eat anything.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Please? You’ve done a huge favor for me.”
“It’s not a favor. You made an order, and I delivered.”
He was so cut and dry. “It won’t take long,” I insisted.
He shrugged. “All right. I guess I’ve got some time.”
His reluctance made me think that maybe he had somewhere else to be. I didn’t want to keep him. “Do you have another delivery to make?”
“Nope.”
I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bowl and a pan. I was going to make him the lobster cakes I was hoping my restaurant would become known for. It was my one signature dish. The one thing I knew I did exceptionally. “Then I’m going to make you some lobster cakes.”
“You don’t need to do that,” he said as he followed me into the kitchen.
I knew the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. I wasn’t trying to get to his heart, but I did want to be friends with him. “I want to. Besides, I promised the chef I would get a jump on some of the prep work. And I’m really hungry.”
“Thanks.”
I got busy enjoying the routine. “Do you eat a lot of lobster?” I asked. I always wondered if the fishermen survived on what they caught. It would make sense.
