12. Booth
CHAPTER TWELVE
booth
After my run-in with Alessandra , again, I storm to the front of the restaurant, eyes frantically scanning for Patrick .
I spot his mop of sandy hair bent over a table of customers, nodding and smiling at whatever they’re saying.
With my arms crossed, stance wide, I wait for him by the server’s station.
He catches my gaze, and from my body language, he knows we need to talk.
Dubiously , he approaches me.
“Now, calm do?—”
My hand swipes through the air, silencing him.
“ I refuse to work with her. She knows nothing. Cares about no one but herself. Plus , she admitted to having no future plan for us.”
“You got all that in less than ten minutes?” He grabs a stack of menus and hands them to a passing server.
Suddenly , I’m reminded of how Silver and I ended up in there together.
He curses when I sucker punch him in the bicep.
“ The fuck! There are customers. What’s your issue?”
I drag him to the back, where the ice machine and dishwasher are.
“My issue is with you feeding me to the wolves. ”
He looks guilty.
“ What happened?”
“She did,” I spit.
“Booth…” His voice is impatient.
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I tell him about the conversation.
“I don’t get it.” Patrick sighs.
“ Earlier , she was fine with us. She highlighted some areas we were lacking, but we’re already on top of it. I hate to break it to you, but she knows the industry.”
“She doesn’t belong here.”
Patrick sighs, so I reign back my anger.
Then my pacifist big brother goes and surprises me.
“ You’re right.”
My eyes bulge.
Quickly , I grab my phone, slide up the camera icon, and click Record .
“ Can you repeat that?”
He slaps my hand away.
“ Be serious for once.”
“Oh, I am. Seriously fucking confused about what to do. How are we supposed to operate during one of the busiest times of the year with her breathing down our necks? Tell me she hasn’t had it out for me since day one?”
Tilting his head, he stares at me condescendingly.
“ You ask for it sometimes.”
“You’re not helping.” I go to turn, but he clasps my elbow.
“ I really do agree with you. She doesn’t belong here, but?—”
“Not with the buts.” My arms flop at my sides.
“ You love buts.”
“My butt!” Johanna shouts from the front.
“ Butt out,” I call right as Patrick whistles his agreement.
Barf.
“As I was saying…” I roll my eyes at his patronizing tone.
“ Our plan worked. We smoked her out. This is what we wanted, so we need to deal with the repercussions. Let’s use her surprise visit to our advantage. Convince her to funnel some more money into the overheads. Jo’s been desperate to replace this lousy old thing.” He kicks the dishwasher with the toe of his boot.
“And how are we going to do that, oh wise one?”
“By making her feel welcome. Involved . Part of the team.”
I frown.
“ I’d rather stick my testicles into a blender.”
“You talk about your balls too much.”
“They’re pretty.”
“You’re changing the subject.” He flicks me between the eyes.
“ Don’t be pigheaded because of a bad first impression. She thinks you’re defiant. Prove to her that you’re the dedicated, hands-on head chef we know you are. Really show her.”
My mouth hangs open, ready to argue, when I pause.
Seeing my reaction, Patrick nods, eyes widening slowly.
“Wait…are you giving me permission to be a pain in her ass?” I ask incredulously.
In a flash, his expression reverts to passive.
“ I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He absolutely does.
I’m stunned. Then , a lightbulb dings above my head.
“If anyone asks, this conversation didn’t happen.” I slap him on the shoulder.
“ Catch you later, I have to see a man about a lobster.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, you tool.”
“Of course it does.” I throw my arms up, gesturing to the brick walls of the tiny room we’re hiding in.
“ This is Our Place .”
Leaving him to bask in my witty words, I decide to catch up on work at home and head down toward the bay.
I left my beanie at my mom’s, and the snappy winds nip at my ears, making them ache.
With my head down, collar tucked up high, and sneakers slapping against the compact snow, I make it back in record time.
The internet around here is dire, and when my cell connects with the Wi - Fi , a weather warning notification flashes on my screen.
The threat of a big snowstorm heading our way is the last thing I need.
Hopefully , it’ll pass before Christmas —which is one week away—but as a precaution, I drop Dex a text.
Booth: Please tell me The Nook is free?
I don’t fancy seeing out this storm in the boathouse.
Dex is one of the most talented carpenters I’ve ever met.
A real master of the trade.
After a summer job at the local lumberyard, he found his passion.
Now , he owns several wood cabins across the state; all of which he built himself.
The Nook was his first major project.
It’s mostly for family and friends, so he doesn’t rent it out unless tourist season is at its peak.
My house is well insulated, but with it sitting in the middle of the bay, there’s always a risk of strong winds blowing out a window or losing power.
Dex: You’re in luck.
I’ve reserved it from the 20th through to Christmas Eve for you.
No orgies.
Booth: That was one time.
Dex: Gross. How are things with Big Boss?
“Pfft, she wishes.” My fingers stab furiously at the screen.
Booth: We’re meeting for coffee tomorrow.
A bit of bonding.
Dex: *sniff* I smell BS.
Booth: I’d never lie.
Thanks for sorting the cabin.
I lock my phone and throw it on my rumpled sheets, strip out of my clothes, and stand under the scalding water in my shower until my skin turns pink.
The entire time, I think about Alessandra .
Not ideal when naked.
She might grate on my nerves, but she’s still stunning to look at.
Which angers me even more .
Once I’m dried off, I do a few hours of work, make dinner, then climb into bed.
My mind runs through endless ways that I’m going to make Alessandra feel welcome.
It’s obvious she knows nothing about the restaurant or the history of this town.
Lucky for her, I’m very knowledgeable.
She wants to prove herself as worthy?
I’ll be the judge of that.
By the end of the year, she’ll know so much, there’ll be no point in her sticking around.
I’ll be so attentive and dedicated, she’ll have no choice but to give me Employee of the Month .
She might also want to serve my head on a platter.
I fall asleep, grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how clever I am.
The Einstein of Sutton Bay , if you will.
Armed with two thermoses, I jab at the buzzer with my elbow and wait.
It’s rare I manage eight hours, but last night I went to sleep satisfied and smug.
Stage 1: teach her all there is to know about Maine fishing.
The thumping of footsteps sounds before a crack appears in the door.
Illuminated by the streetlamp, offering some semblance of light on this dark, frigid morning, I just make out a pair of sleepy, suspecting eyes peeking through the gap.
“Morning, Boss . Ready to start the day?”
She winces at my overly perky voice.
Not a morning person, it appears.
Bonus points.
“What’s going on?” she croaks and widens the door .
My eyes sweep over her body, and I stifle a groan.
She has to stop answering her door in nothing but silk and bare feet.
I bare my teeth in what I hope is a genuine smile.
She doesn’t deserve my dimples.
“ I’ve arranged a field trip. For educational reasons. I want to help you out. Teach you about the ways of the town and its people.”
“Booth, I’m not in the mood. Go bother someone else.”
I hold back my wince when the door slams against my foot.
“ Ah , so what you’re saying is you’re not interested in learning about the culture of this small town? Noted .” I fold my arms and tsk.
“ Shame . I thought you really cared.”
A puff of air escapes her lips and then she counts to ten under her breath.
“ Who said I didn’t care?”
“Your attitude did.” I raise an eyebrow in challenge; she raises one right back.
En garde. “ If you have better things to do than be an involved member of the management team…”
Goading Alessandra Argiros is fast becoming my favorite hobby.
If she were a cat, her claws would be protracting.
She contemplates my invite.
Like me, I suspect she loves a challenge, and she isn’t about to back down when her commitment is being contested.
“Where are we going?” Her voice is tight with agitation, right where I want her.
“It’s a surprise.” I thrust a thermos toward her.
“ This is for you. You’ll need layers for today’s adventures. Thermals , if you have them. You’ve got ten minutes to get changed.”
“This is a nightmare. I haven’t woken up yet, right?”
“Oh, you’re very much awake. Chop chop.” The slapping of my hand on my thigh makes her jump.
“ Ol ’ Petey won’t wait around all morning.”
“Who the fuck is Ol ’ Petey ?” she seethes.
I bend forward, our metal containers clanking as they collide, and I wink at her. “ Our tour guide.”