My Bittersweet Summer (18 page)

“I saw you weren’t on the schedule Friday, so we could totally make the marathon. I went to the one they did for a bunch of classic movies last year, and it was a ton of fun.”

Not wanting to interrupt, I headed past them and straight to the walk-in. It wasn’t that I cared if he went, it was more the thought of Tori being such a predator. Her voice took on a weird nasally tone, not at all how she sounded when I talked to her. I grabbed a bunch of garlic to roast for my paste, figuring I should look like I went back there for a reason, and returned to my station.

“I dunno, Tori,” Zach said as I set in to prepare the dozen white heads of garlic. “Not sure I can do anything Friday.”

“Come on,” she cooed. “You and me in a dark theater for hours. Some of the best animation from the fifties and sixties on the big screen. What’s there to not like?”

Biting on my cheek to keep from laughing, I couldn’t help being amused that Zach was faced with the won’t-take-no-for-an-answer problem he’d inflicted on me more than once.

“I think I already have plans, but thanks for the offer,” Zach said. “Maybe another time.”

I paused mid-peel, a little surprised by his answer. Catching myself, I carried on, trying really hard to pretend I wasn’t listening in.

“But there won’t be another time,” Tori insisted. “It’s a one-time event.” From my peripheral vision, I saw her swing around the rack and lean in close to him. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

Oh, gross. I was pretty sure he’d said the exact same thing to me before, but at least it wasn’t blatantly obvious he was trying to sleep with me. Really ready to not listen to any more of it, I bent down and removed the small roasting pan from under my station, setting it on top of the cutting board with a bang.

“Sorry, Tori. Just can’t make it.” The clacking of plates indicated he’d already gone back to loading dishes into the washer. “You might ask Adam at the bar. He’d definitely be down for it, and I think he’s off on Friday, too.”

“Uh, okay,” Tori said as she backed away with a load of clean dessert plates in her arms. “Yeah, well maybe some other time then.”

The garlic arranged in the pan, I spared a glance at Zach while I drizzled olive oil over them. I’d thought he’d at least be looking at me to see my reaction to that scene, but his attention was completely focused on a pan he was scrubbing. Frowning as I ground sea salt over the garlic, I wasn’t sure what to think about what I’d witnessed. Why would Zach turn down a sure thing with an attractive woman if he was single? I’d figured after hearing about his breakup he wasn’t seeing anyone, but maybe I was wrong. Of course, that also meant him seeing me was decidedly cheating, and that was yuckier to think about than Tori’s weird flirting voice. But, he wasn’t my problem anymore.

The garlic went in the oven and I set the timer. It was time to restock the desserts.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*

“It was weird, Des,” I said into the phone. “He barely even looked at me when I’d dump things to get washed.”

“He’s probably hella embarrassed,” she replied. “I would be.”

“Maybe,” I mumbled, doodling on a notebook. “But then why not just quit? It’s not like he needs the money.”

“Could be his punishment for almost getting the cops called on him. They could’ve threatened to cut him off if he quit.”

“I guess, but the thing with Tori was bizarre, too. Though it’s possible he doesn’t like her that way.”

Destiny giggled. “Never stopped him before. I know Hillary had it out with him for creeping more than once before she went to Stanford.”

“So, what then? You think that was for my benefit?”

“He did say he wasn’t giving up, Margie.”

I rolled over on my bed and sighed. “He said a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I believe any of that, either.”

“Gonna do anything about it?”

“Nope. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Oh, I did hear one thing that’s sort of related to you. You’ll get a kick out of this.”

“Uh oh.”

She giggled. “Apparently the Robinsons called up Avery, Lance, and Matt’s parents and had them pick up their drunk ass sons on Saturday. Matt got off pretty light, I think they sent him to the Hamptons to visit his grandmother for a few weeks, but I heard Avery and Lance got put on lockdown until the Fourth of July.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, confinement to their luxury mansions? Harsh.”

“For what it’s worth, if it was anyone but you they’d probably have let it go.”

“Anyone but me?”

“Yeah,” she said. “After all that talk about lawsuits and stuff after you got hurt back in the day, I think they’re worried about an incident they can’t brush away with money.”

I sat up, confused. “What do you mean, brush away with money? Did they before?”

The silence on the other end chilled me.
 

“I’m guessing you didn’t hear about that,” she said at last.

“Hear about what?”

“Well…”

“Destiny, what didn’t I hear about?”

“Look, I only heard rumors, so your parents would know if it was true or not, but I was told those guys’ families gave your family a bunch of cash to keep them from suing the crap out of them for hospital bills and stuff.”

“Who told you that?”

“It was like forever ago, Margie, I don’t remember. Everybody knew, though. It wasn’t just me.”

Pulling the phone away, I rubbed my face with my free hand. That certainly explained the Robinsons’ generosity.

“Margie?”

I put the phone back up to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Are you mad at me? I swear I thought you knew.”

“I’m not mad at you, Des. But no, I didn’t know. My parents never told me, and I didn’t really think about where they got the money for Dr. Hooper. I knew he was expensive, but I figured that was why they worked so hard and we were still poor. I didn’t talk to anyone here after we left, so I didn’t hear any of the rumors myself.”

“I’m sorry, Margie.”

There wasn’t any sense in getting mad at her. It wasn’t like she’d been keeping it secret from me on purpose. “Don’t worry about it. It’s old news for you. I just can’t believe my parents never told me.”

“Maybe it’s kinda like how my mom keeps the bills from my dad. Sometimes, it’s easier for everyone if he doesn’t have a clue. I’m sure they thought they were just protecting you, Margie.”

“You’d think they’d know by now that they can’t protect me from everything.”

“They did the best they could for you, Mighty Mouse,” she said. “The important thing was that they helped you get better, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, and I hated that I’d made her feel guilty for telling me about those old rumors. My thoughts tangled up in themselves, trying to decide on a different topic of conversation.

“Hey, did you decide what show you guys were gonna see in NYC in August?” True to form, Destiny knew exactly what to say to distract me.

“Eh, I’ve been throwing around a few ideas with Angela, but I think we decided to wait and see what we could get cheap from one of those will-call places. She said there’s one off of Times Square that’s not outrageous and has a good selection.”

The discomfort evaporated as she told me about the last time she’d been to New York City and the collection of knock-off purses she got while there. While I knew those knockoffs came straight out of sweatshops, the temptation to pick one up was more than I wanted to admit. I made a list of some of Destiny’s suggested things to see and do while there, and gradually the conversation wound down. Eventually I felt like we were back to normal again and hung up. My pillow was calling me and tomorrow was going to be an early start.

Well, at least he’d stopped putting things outside my window.

That was the best I could do for positive thinking as I stared at the carrot flower, its green onion stem wedged under my windshield wiper. Sighing, I removed the carved blossom. A little paper gift tag fluttered from a piece of twine tied at the top, and I turned it to see if he’d written anything on it.

A single, loopy number one was the only thing there, which left me even more confused. What game was Zach playing? Whatever it was, he’d graduated from two layers of petals to three, and the cuts were smoother than before.

I really didn’t know why he was bothering. Did he think a single carrot was suddenly going to change my mind? Maybe he wasn’t as smart as I’d given him credit for.

After tossing the flower in the trash bin on the side of the house, I headed out for the day. My parents were already at the restaurant, but I needed to make an early run to Galloway to pick up a special order of seafood from a local fisherman. Chef Antoine had gotten a wild hair and asked for some bizarre, rare fish, and the one place we could get it only delivered as far south as the town across the bridge. With a manager home sick and a hostess likely on her way out due to a sudden loss of childcare, my parents had their hands full.

It was an uneventful pickup at the seafood market, and after an exchange of an emailed receipt for a styrofoam cooler, I was back on the road. Even with stopping for drive-through coffee, I was well on schedule for being at the restaurant by ten o’clock.

When I pulled into the parking lot of Le Beau Tournée, I was surprised to see not only my parents’ car alongside Chef Antoine’s red convertible, but Zach’s blue Audi as well. What was he doing at work so early? Per the schedule, he wasn’t due in until four that afternoon.

I was so distracted by it, that I completely spaced out and shut my door without turning off the engine. The moment it clicked closed, I spun, scrambling for the handle even though it was too late.

Locked.

Appalled at my bonehead move, I knocked my forehead against the roof, hoping it would jar my brain into gear. Less than a week with my own dedicated vehicle and I’d already screwed it up.

“Not to pry or anything, but, uh, something wrong, Margie?”

At the sound of Zach’s voice, I jumped back a pace.

Because of course he would be the first witness to my stupidity.

Resigned to embarrassment, I sighed. “Could you go get my dad? I sort of…”

He waited, eyebrows lifting.

“Locked my keys in the car.”

Without a word, though I could see him fighting not to laugh, Zach turned towards the back door. However, he didn’t go inside, instead stopping at his car and crouching down out of sight. He returned carrying what looked like a straightened out coat hanger.

“I think I can help,” he said.

My gaze shifted between the hanger and his honest expression, not fully understanding why he wasn’t being smug or having a good laugh at my expense. “Uh… You know how to use that?”

He gave me a half smile and rolled up to the driver’s side door, immediately peeling back the black rubber seal at the base of the window. “Believe it or not, I’ve had to break into this car at least two dozen times. Pinnacle of responsibility and all that,” he said as he snaked the wire down into the door.

“This used to be your car?” A twinge of irritation poked at me. While I knew it was a used car, knowing it was Zach’s old car irked me.

“Until I graduated, yep,” he said, fishing around in the door. “My folks weren’t about to drop the cash on the latest sports car with Matt around.”

“Tough break,” I snorted.

He glanced up at me briefly. “The steering wheel locks up sometimes when you start it, but I couldn’t find a mechanic that could figure out why. If it ever does that to you, just shut it off and restart it again after about five seconds.”

With a pop and a click, the door unlocked, and he opened it for me. “Problem solved.”

Ecstatic, I hurried to shut off the car and pocket the keys. “Oh my God, thank you. I was dreading having to tell my dad about this.”

Over the top of the door, he handed me the hanger. “There’s a little ledge right under door. I used to keep this there in case of emergency.”

Hesitant, I took the makeshift tool. “Uh, thanks, but not sure I’d know what to do with it.”

Zach shrugged and backed away. “Well, my dad taught me. He said he learned that trick from your dad when they were in college. He’d probably show you. Life skills and all that.”

“Yeah. Life skills.”

With a small smile and a wave, he retreated, leaving me staring after him and wondering what the hell all of that was about. He wasn’t the least bit smug, didn’t press for another chance as repayment, and had talked to me like I wasn’t a girl he’d chased for weeks.

He seemed… Nice.

Instantly suspicious, I hurried to collect my purse and the cooler of fish. Dwelling on it was only going to tie me in knots, and the last thing I needed was a headache when I’d just miraculously avoided one.

Funny how Zach could save me the stress of one situation, only to cause it in another way.

*
 
*
 
*
 
*
 
*

Zach’s behavior didn’t waver from the bizarre the rest of the day. After shooting down Tori the day before, it was apparently a signal to the other unattached females on the staff to try their hand. Jenessa giggled her way through an invite for coffee on Thursday, and Addison tried to tempt him out to a beach party on Saturday afternoon. I was especially surprised at Addison, as the bartender was Amazonian on the gorgeous scale, and her red hair always earned her tons of tips during her shifts at the bar.

Zach turned them both down with a smile.

The most conceited thought in the world occurred to me as I was waiting on a batch of potatoes to finish boiling: was he doing all of those things for me? The idea seemed completely absurd. The guy tormented me relentlessly as a kid, and knew me barely over a month as an adult. Why on Earth would he put on such an elaborate act for someone who was practically a stranger? I might be pretty, but hardly supermodel material.
 

The other explanation was equally ridiculous. Maybe Zach really had meant what he said about trying to become a better person. Aside from royally screwing up that day on the beach, all indications pointed to that being the case. And with the way he was practically ignoring me, it seemed much more likely than it being in pursuit of a little crush. Regardless of any of that, though, it hadn’t even been a week since I threw in the towel on him. He’d let me down when it mattered most. That level of betrayal couldn’t be smoothed over or forgiven with a few token gestures.