My Bittersweet Summer (19 page)

Mid-rumination, my mom found me, the bunched skin of her forehead a clear sign she was stressed.

“Margie, we have a problem,” she said.

I moved the stockpot of potatoes off the burner. “What’s that?”

“I’m going to need you in the front of the house the rest of the week, and maybe some next week, too.”

“What? Why?”

She sighed and rubbed at an eyebrow. “Isabelle lost her childcare, and we’re short a hostess now. We should be able to get someone new soon, but until then we have to rearrange some things. Max and Carter can fill in on prep for you, but Caroline can only take on a few extra hostess shifts.”

“Oh, sure,” I said. “No problem. When am I up front? Tomorrow?”

Her shoulders pulled in, apologetic. “This evening. I asked Carter to come in, and he’ll be here soon. Would you mind? I’d take it myself, but your father’s cooking tonight and I have three meetings with clients who want to reserve the banquet room.”

“Tonight? Can’t the wait staff step in? I’m not even wearing makeup today.”

“You can run home as soon as Carter gets here. You can have an hour for dinner and clean up.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “Isabelle just called me ten minutes ago, and no one else can make it. If it wasn’t an emergency, I wouldn’t ask, but—”

I held up my hands. “It’s okay. I got it covered. I can reheat something at home for dinner and get ready. Skirt or slacks?”

The tension in her face immediately fell away. “Thank you, Margie. Skirt, please. You can borrow my black flats and the white cap sleeve shirt if you need them.”

“Sure thing.”

She kissed my cheek and hurried away as the back door banged closed. Carter Alexi strolled in with a wave.

“Your mom let you know about the schedule change?” he asked as he pulled his black hair into a ponytail.

“Just now,” I said, untying my apron. “The potatoes are boiled, but they still need peeling. The crème brûlée is a little low, but should be good for another hour at least, so no huge rush there. I finished refilling the garnishes, but they’ll need more of the stock reduction soon.”

He took my apron from me with a smile, his dark eyes lingering in my face. Carter was nice and cute, but four years older than me, so I’d never given him much consideration. “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”

My cheeks heated. “Well, everything except for the reduction, but—”

Carter winked at me. “No worries, Margie. I’ve got it now. Enjoy your escape from kitchen purgatory.”

I giggled. “I’m much more comfortable back here, to be honest, but I guess the change of pace is nice.” I turned to grab my purse from the back room. “Thanks, Carter. See you in a bit.”

As I left, I barely caught a glimpse of Zach as he loudly slammed the dishwasher closed. Rolling my eyes a little, I shrugged it off. I didn’t have time to deal with any small amount of jealousy over practically nothing. Maybe turning down dates was a new thing for him, but it was old hat for me. Besides which, a little wink was hardly an invitation to dinner.

I mulled it over as I drove home, wondering how he’d react if I did go out with someone else. Likely one of two things would come of it. One, Zach would get angry and confront me about it, proving my theory that he was still a jerk. Or, two, he’d realize I was serious about wanting nothing to do with him and leave me alone. It could be a test of sorts.

I cringed. What did I care about it anyway? Testing Zach? Seriously? Maybe I’d finally gone off the deep end. Testing a guy was incredibly gross, and even the thought of it made me want a shower. I wasn’t the kind of girl who manipulated people that way.

Was I?

Shaking it off, I pulled up to the house. It wasn’t like I had anyone asking me out anyway. Aside from Matt’s initial nasty come-on before he knew who I was, Zach was the only guy who’d shown any interest in me at all.
 

I heated up my dinner, wondering if Carter was honestly interested, or if he was one of those naturally flirty types. I didn’t know him all that well, though I wasn’t opposed to seeing him outside of work. He seemed fun, and it wasn’t like I was looking to start a serious relationship weeks before leaving the country. Maybe I’d put aside the age difference and keep an open mind.

Chuckling to myself as I heated up leftovers, I imagined what Destiny would say if she knew what I was considering. It was likely she'd egg me on and tell me to go for it.

As I sat down to eat, I mostly brushed the idea away. Normal dating seemed like a far-off dream. As hard as the concept had seemed while in high school, it seemed even more so with me leaving in a few months. Would it even be possible to get close to someone with my issues? At least Zach had known about my problems and wasn't surprised. How would some stranger react? Even if a guy existed that could deal with all of it, could I? It wasn't something I'd thought I'd have to think about my last summer in the States.

Sighing, I decided to stop worrying about it. No one was asking, and I had other things to do. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it, if it ever came at all. Finishing my dinner, I rinsed off my plate and headed to my room to change. In thirty minutes, I'd be seating customers, and my mind needed to be on my job, not on boys.

*
 
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“Great job tonight,” my mom said as she closed the reservation book on the podium. “I really do appreciate you stepping in last minute.”

I shrugged and handed her a glass of wine from the bar. “Don’t worry about it. It was a good chance to practice Dad’s pairing suggestions. I needed the refresher.”

She sipped the wine and sighed. “So you don’t mind filling in until we find a replacement?”

“Not at all. That’s why I’m here. Wherever you need me, right?”

She kissed my cheek. “True, but I still appreciate it, Margie.”

“I’m going to see if they need any help cleaning up in back, okay?” I turned and headed for the kitchen, calling out a warning before pushing the door open. As I passed the line, Chef Antoine watched me with an appraising gaze, unnerving me a little. What was with the look?

I brushed it off as I pulled up to the prep sink, seeing Carter up to his elbows in vegetables for the next day. “Hey. Need a hand?”

He looked up at me and grinned, wiping away the glistening sweat at his hairline with the back of his forearm. “Always got room for you, Margie.”

His grin made me blush, but I covered it up by washing my hands in the sink behind him. “What’s left to do?”

“I still need to peel and julienne the zucchini, slice up the stuff for the pickled garnish, and make a new batch of brine for the chicken thighs.”

I scanned the ingredients he’d already hauled out. “Saving the onions for last?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t want you to catch me crying, is all.”

Bolstering my courage, I decided to test the waters of flirtation and flashed him a smile. “Why? Some girls might like a man with a sensitive side.”

The dishwasher slammed closed behind me, but I ignored it.

Carter leaned a hip against the sink and grinned at me. “Is that right?”

I shrugged a shoulder and stepped past him, on my way to the walk-in. “Just saying.”

I returned a minute later and dumped an armload of white onions at the prep station. To save him the trouble, I peeled and chopped the fragrant veggies, but by the end of ten minutes, I was totally crying from both the onions and his jokes. I hadn’t known how funny he was before, as I only ever saw him when our shifts overlapped. By the end of our prep work, I was actually really looking forward to my hostess shifts, as it meant he’d likely be in the kitchen in my place. What did the age difference matter if I genuinely enjoyed spending time with him?

Smiling to myself, I dumped the last bin of peels in the trash and pulled up the bag, preparing to take it out. As I braced to lift it, my foot slipped on the wet tile, and I lost my balance, my left arm dropping the bag and flailing out for something to hang on to.

“Whoa.” A strong arm caught me around the waist, and I found myself crushed up against Carter’s chest. “Better be careful in those dressy shoes, Margie.”

I looked up at him, my face burning in embarrassment. “I… Yeah. Thanks.”

When I was steady again, his arm slipped away and relieved me of the trash bag. “Better let me get that.”

All I could manage was a grateful smile as he walked off with the trash. A clearing throat behind me a minute later made me jump, realizing I was still standing there, grinning.

Zach snapped open a new trash bag, replacing the old one as I stepped away from the can. He looked irritated.

“What?” I planted a hand on my hip.

He glanced up as he tightened the ties around the lip of the container. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You look like you have something to say.”

He straightened, his lips pulling into a tight line, then turned away. “I wasn’t aware my opinion mattered.”

I sniffed and picked up the sealed container of pickled vegetables, heading back to the cooler. “It doesn’t.”

As I was closing the walk-in door, Carter returned from the dumpster. He paused inside the door, considering me. “Hey, you busy after this?”

I stopped and stared at him. “Busy?”

“There’s people with guitars on the beach tonight. Wanna go?”

“With you?” Holy crap. Was he actually asking me out? Already? Really?

He chuckled. “Me and whatever riffraff shows up. Is that a problem?”

“I… No. I mean, sure, that sounds great, but I’m still in work clothes.”

“Everyone will be in work clothes,” he said with a laugh. “It’s what we do on Wednesday nights. A few locals bring out their instruments, and we relax after work. No rich kids allowed. You in?”

“Sounds like fun. Sure. I’m game.” My stomach fluttered as his grin widened.

“I’ll let the others know you’re going with, then,” he said as he backed away towards the prep station. “We won’t leave without you.”

Others? Feeling stupid at my assumption, my cheeks heated, but I smiled and nodded to cover it up. Of course a guy his age wouldn’t ask out an eighteen-year-old. How dumb was I? Still, it was sort of worth it to see Zach irritated. I shrugged it off and headed back to clean up duty, excited to be doing something other than going home and reading before bed. Self-improvement was fine and all, but the occasional night of fun was important, too.

“I had a nice time tonight. Thanks for the invite,” I said as we got to the beach parking lot, headed for my car.

Carter shrugged. “Of course. If I knew you’d be interested, I would’ve asked weeks ago. It just seemed like…” He paused, then shrugged again.

I leaned up against my car. “Seemed like what?”

“Well, none of us figured you for the type to hang out with the help.”

I blinked at him, confused. “What? Why? I
am
the help. Who else would I hang out with?”

“You’re the bosses’ kid. You can hang out with whoever you want.”

I crossed my arms, a stewing irritation settling over me. “Why do I have the feeling when you say ‘whoever,’ you actually have someone specific in mind?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned up on the car opposite me. “You’re saying the rumors aren’t true then?”

I hefted my keys, and hit the unlock button. “Rumors are rumors. If you’re talking about Zach, no, there’s nothing going on there. Less than nothing. Not that anyone would believe me.” Straightening up, I turned to open the door, but he caught me by the wrist.

“Hey, hang on. I wasn’t trying to…” He let me go when I turned. “I just meant that I don’t want to step over a line I shouldn’t be stepping over. That’s all.”

“Of all the lines you could worry about, that’s the one you picked, huh?”

He gave me a sheepish grin. “I just need to keep this job, that’s all.”

“So why would you be worried about Zach Robinson?”

“Well…” His fingers slipped into mine, cautious. “I mean, his parents own the restaurant. And, you know, rich kids like getting what they want, when they want it. So if I was to, I don’t know, ask you out, I might be worried he’d try to get me fired.”

Heart racing, I tried not to let my nerves show. “My parents would never let that happen. That’s not how they run things.”

Carter lifted my hand, bringing it between us to rest on his chest. “So, is that a yes, then?”

Three in, six out.

I smiled up at him. “You haven’t asked me anything yet.”

“We’re both off Monday. Want to waste a day with me?”

He wanted a day? A whole day? With me? My head spun a little. “That sounds like a great waste of a day to me.”

When he lowered his head, I was sure he was going to kiss me, but, instead, his lips brushed my knuckles, and he grinned. “Then it’s a date.”

Grateful for the harsh orange streetlight to hide my blush, I sucked in a slow inhale and backed away, opening my car door. “Yeah. Monday.”

Carter winked at me as he released my hand. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Dinner shift?”

I shook my head. “Lunch, but I’ll see you.”

As I slid into the driver’s seat, I watched him wave and head back to the beach. Once he was out of sight, I started the car, giggling to myself. A date with a cute guy,
and
I got to put a bee in Zach’s bonnet? Maybe I should’ve bought a lottery ticket, too.

My good mood soured as I pulled up to my house. The lights inside were off, meaning my parents were already asleep, but the porch light was on, shining off the blond head of Zach Robinson.

Exhausted at seeing him there, I readied my pepper spray keychain and got out of the car.
 

“I swear I’ll make this quick. Just hear me out, okay?” He held up his hands, palms out.

I stopped in front of the step, pepper spray pointed at him. “Why are you a creepy stalker? What part of ‘leave me alone’ did you not understand?”

“I just want to warn you about Carter. That’s it.”

“Great. Thanks. Bye.”

He didn’t budge from in front of the door. “I’m serious, Margie. He’s not the nice guy you think he is. He’s worked on the island for four summers now, and when he’s not working, he spends his time sleeping with as many girls as possible. You deserve better than that.”