Chapter 12
“Bullies are jerks but do they tell the truth? Asking for a friend.” ~ Maya
Maya
I shut the dishwasher and make sure it starts before digging my phone out of my pocket. I glance around to make sure no one’s watching me, but there’s no one else in the restaurant kitchen at the moment.
It’s Saint Patrick’s Day and it’s all hands on deck at Five Fathoms Brewing. I don’t care how busy we get. I am not working the bar or restaurant floor. There are way too many people out there. It’s hot and loud and crowded.
I shiver. No way.
Which is why I’m on dishwashing duty all night. The dishwasher behind the bar is not enough to keep up with a Saint Patrick’s Day crowd, which is why I’m in the kitchen. But since there’s a lull in the dishes, I decide to message Caleb.
How did therapy go?
He responds right away.
How do you know I had therapy ?
Hazel’s easy to bribe. One pirate’s plunder muffin and she caved.
What did she say?
I need to be careful here. It’s obvious Caleb has some shame attached to his injuries, which makes no sense. But I know all about people being ashamed for things they should be proud of, so I tread carefully.
You had therapy today. Oh, and you swear like a sailor.
I’m not a sailor.
I know but I couldn’t resist the chance to tease you.
I’ll show you teasing.
Promises. Promises.
What am I doing? I’m not supposed to flirt with my fake boyfriend. This madness will end in heartbreak. I’ve read the romance books. I know how this goes.
I always keep my promises.
Hold on. He’s not supposed to flirt back with me. How do I respond? Do I continue to flirt? What do I write? A message pops up before I can figure out how to reply.
Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night? I want to thank you for taking care of me in the restaurant.
There’s no need to thank me.
I decide when I thank someone.
And you’ve decided, have you?
Come to dinner tomorrow night.
Does he think he has to persuade me? Of course, I’m going to say yes. As if I would ever say no to Caleb. I don’t think my body is capable of saying no to the man .
What time? And what do you want me to bring?
I have everything covered. Bring yourself.
The door slams open and Chloe rushes in carrying a tray of dirty glasses.
Gotta go. See you tomorrow.
I stuff my phone in my back pocket.
“I got it,” I say as I accept the tray from Chloe.
She brushes the hair off of her forehead. “It’s crazy out there. I’ve never seen it this busy.”
I snort. “What did you think would happen when you came up with a bunch of games with beer prizes?”
Smugglers are competitive enough. Add in a beer prize and they go absolutely all out nuts. Naturally, all of the games are rowdy, too. There’s a tug-of-war between smugglers and mermaids, a mermaid storytelling contest, and the best mermaid-inspired cocktail contest.
“I honestly didn’t think people would dress up as smugglers and mermaids and spend the entire night before the tug-of-war daring each other to drink.”
I giggle. “I don’t know why not. It’s exactly what you would have done.”
She shrugs. “True.”
The dishwasher beeps to let me know it’s finished. I open it and Chloe grabs the tray of glasses.
“Thanks.” She rushes away but spins around before she reaches the door. “You okay in here by yourself?”
My brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“It’s a party out there and you’re in here. ”
“And?”
“Flynn and Lucas are here, too.”
“And Nova and Hudson are home because she just had her baby.” They named her Iliana. The name is derived from the Greek word ilis , meaning bright. It’s the perfect name since Hudson’s nickname for Nova is Sunshine. “What’s your point?”
“I feel bad you’re all by yourself.”
“You feel bad? Are you sick? Do I need to phone the doctor? Wild child Chloe is worried about someone else’s feelings.”
She glares at me. “I worry about other people.”
I know she does. She used to hide how she cared about other people, but Lucas and his daughter Natalia have changed her. I’m happy for her. I’m also a bitch for trying to steer the subject away from my own preference for being alone.
“Sorry.”
“Chloe!” someone shouts from the bar area.
“Shit. I need to go. Promise me you’ll let me know if you want some company.”
I don’t hesitate since I know I won’t want any company. The only company I want is a man who prefers to hide away in his cabin all alone. He’ll probably become more of a hermit after the restaurant incident. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’ll let him hide.
“Promise.”
She studies me for a moment before nodding. “I’m holding you to your promise. ”
She hurries away and I return to the dishes. Chloe excels at her position as the restaurant and bar manager for Five Fathoms Brewing, but she’s horrible at stacking glasses for the dishwasher.
The door to the kitchen bangs open and I whirl around with a smile on my face. Chloe must really be worried about me.
The smile freezes on my face. It’s not Chloe. Three people I hoped never to come across again stumble into the kitchen.
Harry, Alan, and Joe – aka the three boys who made my life living hell in junior high school. Harry and Alan are brothers and Joe is their sidekick because every group of bullies needs a sidekick.
“You shouldn’t be in here.” My voice wavers.
“W-w-we shouldn’t be in here?” Harry pretends to stutter as he prowls toward me.
“You heard me,” I force the words out and Harry stops in the middle of the kitchen a few feet from me.
Alan cackles. “We did? You barely spoke louder than a mouse.”
“Holy shit!” Joe shouts. “It is a mouse. It’s Mouse from junior high school.”
I cringe at his use of my old nickname. I thought the nickname would be forgotten after these three moved away from Smuggler’s Hideaway. But now they’re back. I hope they’re not back for good. They don’t belong on the island. Smugglers aren’t assholes. Sneaky troublemakers is more our style.
Harry crosses his arms over his chest. “Poor mouse working all alone in the kitchen and missing the party. ”
Alan elbows him. “She probably wants to miss the party. It’s much too scary for a little mouse at such a big party.”
Joe sneers. “The little mouse doesn’t have a defender anymore.”
I wish Caleb was here now. He’d wipe the floor with these idiots.
“Who would defend her?” Harry asks. “She’s just a mouse.”
“Who could love a mouse?” Alan adds.
I flinch. His words hit much too close to home. It’s hard to feel loveable when the people who should love you unconditionally label you a traitor and refuse to have anything to do with you.
“Ah, look at her. She’s cowering in the corner. Poor little mouse.” Harry sticks out his bottom lip in a fake pout.
“You need to leave.” My words are barely above a whisper but I said them. “This area is for personnel.”
“Personnel?” Harry snorts. “The mouse who thought she was too good for us in junior high school is a dishwasher.”
I’m not a dishwasher but I don’t care to correct his assumption. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. He doesn’t matter.
“You need to leave,” I repeat a bit louder.
Joe pulls on Harry’s sleeve. “Let’s go. This is boring.”
“Yeah,” Alan says. “There’s nothing to see here.”
Harry nods in agreement. “Just a little, unlovable mouse.”
They stroll toward the door. Joe and Alan walk away without a backward glance, but Harry turns around to wave. “Bye, little mouse. Have a nice life living all alone on this stupid island. ”
I watch as the door closes behind them. I wait a few seconds before allowing the tension in my body to release.
I’m glad those assholes left the island after graduating from high school. They don’t embody the feel of a smuggler.
But were they correct? A little voice asks. Am I unlovable?
All my insecurities come roaring back to life. Insecurities I thought I’d left behind after I moved out of my parents’ house. I’m not a nobody. I finished college. I founded a brewery. I helped make the brewery a success.
All true. But what about love?