“Look, I wanted to apologize again for this morning. I really hope this doesn’t cause you and Felicity any problems with the authorities or with her staying with you. And I hope you guys find a good housemate who won’t call the cops on you.” Crap. Not the time for jokes, you idiot. Say something else. Anything! “And just because you were a jerk way back when doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the same way now. I mean, you’re letting your niece live with you, so that’s got to count for something.”
“Uh, thanks?”
I finally turn around. His dark hair is mussed, thicker than it used to be, and that damn beard only highlights his half-smile. I would have thought a beard would hide so much of what made his face beautiful at eighteen, but it doesn’t. If anything, it enhances his best features, all of which have evolved into a more rugged handsomeness now. It’s sending me off-kilter, and I don’t like it. My go-to move would be to flirt with a guy to regain the upper hand, but I can’t flirt with Milo. He’s too dangerous. And even though I wronged him today, it doesn’t change the fact that he was a real asshole this morning before I took things too far.
And he still hasn’t apologized.
I cross my arms and pretend to give him an unimpressed once-over. “Although come to think of it, you still act like a bit of a snob if you ask me.” I just can’t seem to help myself.
That sends his neck back. “I’m a snob?”
“You told Felicity I was shallow and, let’s face it, you don’t have any basis for that.” My voice stays even like I’m simply reading him the specials. “You just assume anybody who didn’t grow up in your precious town is somehow lacking real values and goes around demanding to be served hand and foot. Which is completely off base.”
“Think whatever you like, but you’ve got some nerve calling me of all people a snob, and you know it.”
“Snobbery goes both ways, SCUBA boy. Do you think me and my flat ass wear this insane get-up for laughs?”
He doesn’t respond, but I catch the telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth, and my head threatens to explode.
“God, you’re an asshole!” I knew it all along. Whatever cease-fire he was working inside the restaurant is long gone.
But any trace of humor fades at my insult, and the tendons in his neck pop as he steps closer and points a pissed-off finger in my face. “You are unbelievable. You seem to forget all the help I gave you that summer—you just turned around and threw it all back in my face before you trotted on back to your charmed life. And that was a decade before you called the cops on me for no reason!”
“I did not!”
He throws a hand out. “I believe I have a copy of the report on my kitchen table, Sunshine.”
Oh, hell no! I step even closer. “Don’t you call me that! And I meant I didn’t throw anything in your face because there was nothing to throw! You were always out for yourself and you know it. You didn’t care about me one bit!”
He steps back and laughs in response. He laughs. It’s a bit maniacal, but it’s a laugh for sure.
I’m left standing with my fists on my hips and a half-empty bottle of rage in my belly. “I always knew you had a screw loose.”
“You should know. You’re the one who loosened it.” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice one.
“Are you drunk? God, this is ridiculous. I’m going back inside.” I stalk by him to the door. “Have a nice life!” It’s time to get back to work and forget this man ever existed.
“You too!” His voice follows me, but I don’t look back. “Don’t forget your pitchfork when you go home tonight.”
Crap. It’s just like that asshole to remind me I only have one more day to find a place to live.
“You did well tonight, Louisa.” Camille nods in my direction as she settles the cash drawer. “Tomorrow, you get your own full section.”
I don’t miss the glare from Maria before she stalks to the back hallway. Girl needs to chill out. I’m only going to be here for a few weeks.
“Thank you, Mrs. Blume.” I hitch my purse on my shoulder. I’m still wearing the dress, but the braids came out the minute the last customer left. They were starting to cut off blood flow to my brain, or at least that’s what I’m blaming for the craptastic headache forming between my ears.
“Please, call me Camille. We’re family now.” She smiles and goes back to counting.
She really is sweet, but being included in her “family” makes me a bit nervous based on evidence to this point. Nevertheless, she gave me an awesome job, so I’m grateful. Tips were killer tonight. Unfortunately, very few of them were cash, and the restaurant pays credit card tips out on payday—which happens to be more than a week from now.
“Okay, Camille. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I pull out my phone to call an Uber and step outside onto the sidewalk. It’s a beautiful fall night and I wish I could walk, but the Misty Inn is a few miles away. I push the power button on my phone, but nothing happens.
No, no, no! I press and hold the button, hoping I just powered the whole thing down earlier by mistake, but it’s no use. “Dammit!”
“What’s wrong?” A familiar voice comes from the other direction. It’s Rayna, and she’s got her hand in the crook of Bran’s elbow. They must have come out the side door.
“Stupid battery died.” I hold up the phone. “I was trying to call an Uber.”
“We can give you a lift,” Bran offers without hesitation and Rayna nods.
“Oh, you don’t have to. That’s really nice, though.” I offer them a smile. I’ve always been a resourceful person, so I’ll figure something else out.
Bran beckons with a tilt of his head. “Oh, come on. We insist.” Rayna nods next to him, and they stand there like the quintessential storybook couple. Bran with his tall frame and fair good looks and Rayna with her petite curves, killer dimples, and head of curly black hair.
“Maybe I can just use your phone to call Uber?” But I immediately realize that won’t work because the accounts are tied to phone numbers. “Ugh.”
“Come on,” Rayna coaxes. “Bran doesn’t bite.”
“And Rayna only does when she’s hungry, so you should be safe.”
I smile my appreciation, and we all walk down the sidewalk together. “Thanks, guys. I swear I’m getting a car soon.”
I can practically see Bran’s ears perk up. “What are you in the market for?” We end up talking about cars as we hop in Bran’s truck and I direct them south on Lake Park Boulevard. Turns out he’s an auto mechanic and runs a whole shop. My buddy Zeb comes to mind, and I wonder if maybe I should’ve had my car towed to Bran’s place instead. It’s still sitting at Zeb’s waiting for me to deal with it.
Rayna chimes in, clearly done with the shop talk. “I know you’re new in town, but I didn’t ask. Do you have family here you’re staying with or did you get your own place already?”
“Oh, I’m still working on that. Just staying at a motel for the time being, but I’ve got some feelers out.” Total lie. “And no family here. I just like the place.” I decide to leave it at that. The last thing I need is her telling Camille I only plan on staying for a little while. I need that job.