My Uptown Girl

by C. Morgan

  “What the hell happened, Amara?”

  “Well, as it turns out, the plumbing isn’t so great in this building. And the bad plumbing wasn’t a new problem. We had a leak and ended up having to replace the floor back here.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” he asked. “I could have helped.”

  “I have to do this on my own.”

  “What company did you get in here to take care of this so fast?”

  “It wasn’t a company. I did it.”

  “You did it?”

  “Not just me. I had help.”

  He looked around once again. “This is a new floor?”

  “Yep,” I said with pride. “We pulled out the old one and laid all new tile.”

  “Who is we? I know you are a smart girl and you can do anything you put your mind to, but you did all of this? I didn’t know you knew how to use a hammer, let alone lay floor.”

  I grinned. “I didn’t do it by myself.”

  “Don’t tell me it was Kerri?”

  “It was Fulton,” I said, watching his reaction.

  “The lobster guy?”

  “Yes, the lobster guy. He was making a delivery and saw the geyser we had at the sink. He shut off the water and offered to help. When he came back and discovered the fix was easy but the damage was extensive, he said he would fix it for me.”

  “Why didn’t you call a plumber? You don’t know this guy.”

  I said. “I did call a plumber. He didn’t show up until way late. If I would have waited for him, my restaurant would have been under water, literally and figuratively.”

  “But you could have called me,” he insisted.

  “Dad, Fulton offered to help. He sacrificed his time to help me. That’s a big deal in his world. He missed out on making money to help me.”

  He sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I don’t understand,” he muttered under his breath.

  “What don’t you understand?”

  “What is your hang up with this guy?

  “My hang up?” I asked, putting my hand on my hips.

  He waved a hand through the air. “You are infatuated with this guy. I get it. He’s the cool, dark guy. He probably wears a leather jacket. He’s the bad boy. He’s the blue-collar guy. You are having fun with a man you wouldn’t normally meet.”

  “You are back to being very pretentious,” I told him.

  “You can call me what you want but I’m looking out for you. This guy is not for you. I understand you can’t distance yourself from him, but I can.”

  “I don’t need you to do anything.”

  “You say this guy gives you a great price on lobster,” he said, no longer paying attention to me. “I’ll find you a supplier and pay the difference. I don’t want you to have anything more to do with this guy. You don’t need him in your life.”

  “You are not switching my suppliers! This is my restaurant.”

  “You need help. You need guidance. You are going to throw away everything you’ve worked for. This guy is going to use you and dump you and you’ll be left with a sinking business and no hope for turning it around.”

  My mouth fell open. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I cannot believe you! What are you even talking about?”

  “This guy isn’t your boyfriend. Even if he is right now, he won’t be for long.”

  “Well, your crystal ball is pretty impressive,” I said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  He looked around the restaurant. “I’ll hire a crew to take care of this mess.”

  “What mess? I don’t need a crew!”

  “You don’t need him! I’ll hire you a professional crew to take care of things. You need to learn to keep business relationships and personal relationships separate.”

  “I don’t need you telling me what to do,” I said. My anger was growing. I didn’t want to fight with him but he was pissing me off.

  “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m giving your guidance. I have stayed out of your way, but when I see you making some serious mistakes, I have to step in.”

  “I’m not making mistakes.”

  “Oh sweetie, you are. You just can’t see it yet. That’s why I have to help you.”

  I thought we were over it. I thought he understood how I felt. I loved my father so much but what I was seeing from him wasn’t the man I knew. I didn’t want there to be a rift between us. If I gave in and got angry, it would be bad. I didn’t want to hurt him. He was trying to look out for me, even if it sounded terrible.

  “Dad, I appreciate the offer, but I have this under control.”

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me,” he said, the hurt evident on his face.

  It explained why he was lashing out at Fulton. My daddy was used to me being his little girl and he was the hero in my life. He was the one that got to swoop in and rescue me. Having someone else do it was hard for him to swallow.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t want you to worry. I know you are worried about me being successful. I wanted to prove to you that I could do this on my own.”

  He softened a little. “Sweetie, I will always worry about you. You can tell me anything. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of. Let me make some calls. I want someone out here to do a full inspection. This will tell us if there are any more issues. I should have done that before I ever bought the place. I’ll have him do a full check of the plumbing and electrical. Are there any other issues you’ve had?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “What about the equipment? Is it all working?”

  I didn’t tell him about one of the fryers that was on the fritz. He would insist on buying a new one. “Everything is fine. It was just the pipe.”

  “What about mold? Was there mold?”

  God, I hoped not. “No. We replaced the flooring to make sure there wouldn’t be mold. The broken pipe was under the sink and not in the wall, so it should be fine.”

  He looked around, clearly not convinced. “I’ll make some calls.”

  I didn’t argue. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He turned and looked me in the eye, a hard look on his face. “Next time, tell me what’s going on. I could have helped. I will help. This business venture is not easy. Even the most seasoned businessman would struggle to get a restaurant off the ground. Asking for help isn’t a bad thing. You have to learn to ask when you need it, or this is all going to fall apart. I want you to be successful. Let me help you get through this first year. How are you doing on finances? Are you going to be able to make your rent?”

  “Yes, Dad. I’m fine.”

  He gave a firm nod. He was still irked. “I’ll take care of things.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of it, but I would deal with it when the time came.

  “I need to get going. I’ll check in later. Keep your chin up, Amara. We’ll get through this.”

  He gave me a quick hug before I walked him to the front door. I locked it behind him and released a sigh. I loved him but he made me crazy. I walked back through the kitchen, almost afraid of what an inspector would find.

  I walked into my office and flopped down in my chair. I hoped my dad wasn’t serious about the lobster hookup. For now, it was safe. My dad knew Fulton’s name, but he didn’t know anything else, and I would find a way to avoid telling him. I wasn’t about to let him screw over Fulton by canceling my orders with him. Not after what he had done for me.

  I heard my phone beep and reached for it. I smiled when I saw a text from Fulton.

  No lobster. Let’s go fishing tomorrow. Play hooky for a bit?

  I was bummed his day on the boat had been a bust. I felt a little guilty for telling him to go out. I knew every drop of fuel cost money he didn’t have. I had never been fishing, lobster or otherwise. It could be fun to learn. Hell, if worse came to worst, I could work on the boat with him. We could be a team on and off land.

  Show me the way, I replied.

&nbs
p; I didn’t really care much about the fishing, but I was anxious to hang out with him and watch him work. It had been a huge turn on watching him work in my restaurant. I had a feeling seeing him on the boat was going to be even hotter.

  Chapter 29

  Fulton

  Since we weren’t doing a lobster run, I slept in a bit. Stanley said he didn’t mind another day off, but I knew I needed to get him catching lobster again and soon. He needed the money just as much as I did.

  We’d be okay. I would pay him a flat fee from my savings. We had a standing arrangement that he would always get some kind of a check, even when the fishing was slow. It was part of the benefits package, as he called it. I couldn’t fish without him and didn’t want him going to another boat. Technically, I supposed I could fish without him, but I didn’t want to.

  I loaded my truck with the fishing poles and an ice chest filled with snacks and drinks. I wished like hell I could take some cold beer out, but I wouldn’t risk it on my boat. That was the last thing I needed. I headed to Amara’s apartment, anxious to see her. It had been too long. I refused to acknowledge what it meant that I felt a few days was too long.

  I was hoping today would be the day I could tell her how I felt about her. I wasn’t going to push it. If it felt off, I would keep my mouth shut. I wanted things to just kind of happen between us. I didn’t want it to feel forced or like I was moving too fast. I knew what I wanted but she might still be on the fence. I wouldn’t push—unless I sensed her wobbling. Then I would absolutely push.

  “Good morning.” I greeted her with fresh coffee and a hot kiss.

  She smiled and opened the door for me to enter her apartment. “That will definitely make it a good morning.”

  “Are you ready?”

  She lifted her arms. “I think so. Do I look ready?”

  I bit my tongue. She looked ready for something in her little shorts and hoodie, but I would keep that to myself. “You do.”

  “Is it hard?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “At the moment, no. It only takes a second for that to change.”

  She burst into laughter. “You’re bad. I meant lobster fishing. Or trapping. Whatever it is. Is it hard?”

  “We’re not doing lobsters today. I was thinking something a little more relaxing. We’ll see if we can catch some bluefish. Have you ever had it?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “Good. We can have a fish fry at my place.”

  “That sounds like a very good plan. I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved we aren’t going after lobster.”

  “That requires a bit more work. Maybe I’ll get you out there some day, but for now, I think it’s best we stick with a rod and reel.”

  “Works for me.”

  We left and headed for my truck. She looked good sitting in the front seat of my old truck. She fit perfectly with her cutoff jean shorts and her hair pulled back in a ponytail with a pretty pink ballcap on. She was perfect for me. Low maintenance, low key, and just the woman I knew I needed in my life.

  She carried the poles while I carried the ice chest and the bag of snacks she insisted on bringing along. We walked down the dock to my boat with me following behind her and checking out her ass. I liked the shorts. Every step hiked them up just enough for me to get the smallest glimpse of those round curves.

  I had it bad. Holy shit, I had it bad. I helped her on board and gave her a quick tour. It was a very quick tour, considering there was nothing exciting to see and it was a pretty small boat.

  “Ready?” I asked her.

  She was smiling, the wind blowing her ponytail as she came to stand beside me at the wheel. “I’m so ready.”

  I took us out, away from the lobster fishing grounds and into an area known for fishing. I didn’t get to do any real fishing very often and was looking forward to a day of chilling out. “Have you ever been out deep-sea fishing?” I asked her.

  “Nope. I think my dad did a charter once, but I was young and far more interested in my phone than the actual experience.”

  “That seems to be the norm these days.”

  “What about you? Did you and your dad come out very often?”

  “Not a lot but enough. He was on the water a lot and about the last thing he wanted to do was take this boat out after a long day.”

  She smiled, nodding. “I could understand why. Do you come out when you aren’t doing lobster fishing?”

  “Not really. I’m always on the hunt for lobster.”

  She moved away, standing at the rail as she stared out at the sea. If I were the picture-taking type, I would have snapped a picture. Instead, I committed the image to memory.

  “It feels so good out here,” she exclaimed and held her arms out to the side, her face turned up to the sun.

  “What’s your story?” I blurted out. I couldn’t contain my curiosity about her any longer. She was the total package. I couldn’t understand why no man had swept her off her feet.

  “My story?” she asked, turning and leaning her butt up against the edge as she looked at me.

  “Yeah. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t feel like I was ready.”

  “Ready for what? I know you weren’t a virgin.”

  She grinned, shaking her head at my bluntness. “No, I wasn’t. I’ve had boyfriends but nothing serious.”

  “Because you weren’t ready for a real relationship?”

  “Yes. I wanted to make something of myself first. I wanted to graduate college and attempt to make my dreams come true before I settled into something. I know it sounds selfish, but I didn’t want to share my time with anyone. I wanted to focus on me, and when I felt like I was ready, then I would think about a serious relationship.”

  That didn’t bode well for me. “What do you consider serious?”

  “I don’t know, like going steady,” she teased.

  “Serious as in you’re only fucking one guy?” I asked a little harsher than I meant it to come out.

  “I would only fuck one guy at a time,” she answered. “I’m not into threesomes.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She walked toward me and slid her arm around my waist. “Yes, one man for me. I don’t do the carousel thing.”

  “Good because if you are even thinking about fucking another man right now, it isn’t going to end well for him.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You remind me of another man in my life.”

  “Excuse me? Didn’t I just tell you that didn’t work for me? I don’t share.”

  “My dad,” she said and pulled away. “He’s very protective, which is another reason why I haven’t had a serious boyfriend. I don’t think he would ever approve.”

  “Except for that Nick asshole?” I asked.

  “Not anymore,” she muttered.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Nick is not in the picture. He was never in the picture. My dad knows that.”

  “Does Nick want to be in the picture?” I asked, doing my best to control my jealousy.

  “I don’t care if he does or not.”

  “Good answer,” I said.

  “Nick only thinks he wants me. I am way too imperfect for him. I am not the kind of woman he wants. He would want someone pretty in pink all the time. He’d expect me to be a hostess and never speak unless spoken to. I can’t do that for him or anyone. It’s why I have avoided relationships. Too many guys have tried to change me.”

  “Fuck them.”

  She smiled again. “I agree. It’s why I want to make something of myself first. I have seen too many women get into these relationships with their perfect guy and find themselves miserable and missing out on what could have been. I want to find my success on my own. I want to go into a relationship with the confidence I can do anything and I am more than a prop.”

  I pushed up my sunglasses and turned to look at her. “You are so much more than a prop. You are perfect the way
you are. Never change for anyone. Not even your parents. You do you.”

  “You are very kind,” she said.

  I slowly moved my head back and forth. “I’m not kind. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “No one is perfect.”

  “Is there a measuring stick? I mean, how do we know who is perfect and who isn’t? Is there a blueprint to follow?”

  She looked thoughtful. “I guess not but perfect is a pretty high bar.”

  “You’re right up there. Perfect is when you are a good human and do right by others. Perfect is when you have a quick smile and a general good quality about you. The looks aren’t a bad thing either.”

  She giggled as she looked at her feet. I’d embarrassed her. It wasn’t my intention, but she needed to know she was perfect just as she was. “Thank you. Spending time with you makes me feel a lot better about myself.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “It’s a very good thing. I hope I can make you feel the same way.”

  “You do,” I said in a quiet voice. “You have no idea.”

  She moved back to the side and watched as I guided us out. I set anchor and baited our poles after giving her a quick tutorial. It felt a little strange to be sitting in a chair on the deck of my boat. I was always on my feet, working my ass off.

  “This is so relaxing,” she said after we’d been sitting in silence for a while.

  “I don’t think I have just sat still in a long while.”

  “You’re one of those people that is always on the move?”

  “I guess I am,” I admitted. “I never really thought about it before.”

  “Probably because you’re always going.”

  “True.”

  “I think I like fishing,” she commented.

  “Let’s decide after you have actually caught a fish and have to gut it.”

  She turned to look at me, the back of her head resting against the chair. “I’m a chef in some ways. I’ve gutted things.”

  Just another point in the positive column for her. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. I could see myself spending a lot more time with her. “Then I’ll leave the cleaning to you.”