36. Booth
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
booth
The corners of my mouth split as I plaster on a cheesy grin.
It’s that time of the week when Mrs .
Stewart demands she talk to the chef so she can complain about something ridiculous.
According to my mom, it’s been going on since our first week of opening.
Her whining is part of my routine.
If she didn’t show up, I’d be calling the cops to carry out a welfare check.
With beady eyes, she tuts at the tiny stain on my chef coat, while her husband eats his hamburger silently.
Poor guy. She probably removed his voice box for talking back.
“Mrs. Stewart , I promise you that today’s catch of the day was, in fact, caught today.” My palms press together in front of me in a prayer.
I’m praying that Patrick will finally let me ban her.
She turns her nose up at the empty plate in front of her.
“ It didn’t smell fresh. An awful fishy odor was coming from it.”
Lord, give me strength.
I’d rather chop off my own hands than serve bad fish.
Not to mention the health hazard it would cause .
I glance down at her plate.
“ Did it taste fishy?”
She balks.
“ What are you implying?”
“Nothing.” My grin stretches so wide my eyes water.
“ I’d be happy to send out a complimentary blueberry cobbler.”
Her head jerks with a huff.
“ I suppose that will suffice. I’d suggest you throw out the rest of that trout before someone else orders it.”
Salmon.
She had salmon.
“Absolutely. I’ll get right on that.” I look between her and her husband.
Blink twice if you’re in danger.
“ Enjoy the rest of your evening. See you next week.”
“We shall not be dining here ever again,” she shouts after me.
“We shall not miss you,” I grumble for my ears only.
I poke my head into the kitchen.
“ Simon , two blueb?—”
“I know the drill.” He chuckles and slides two desserts across the pass.
“ This isn’t my first rodeo.”
If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.
“ You’re a champ. I need to talk to Jo . You got this?”
“Do what you gotta do.” He nods before tearing off a new ticket from the printer and reading it out.
The bar staff are zipping back and forth as they fulfill drink orders.
Even amid the dinner rush chaos, my brother and Johanna take advantage of any spare second to catch each other’s eye.
Here I am, incapable of holding Aly’s attention even if my life depended on it.
I spent all morning thinking about her, wondering how it went with Martin .
My phone battery suffered thanks to the amount of times I refreshed our text thread.
Nothing . It took all my self-restraint not to call or message her.
Johanna spots me waiting at the end of the bar, and holds up a finger.
She stabs at the portable point-of-sale tablet, entering in an order, then heads my way .
She props her hands on her hips and exhales.
“ Tonight is a busy one. How are you all doing in there?”
“Feeling the pressure. I’ve never seen a January like it.” I take in the full tables, not an empty seat in the house.
“You’re telling me. Maybe you can convince Aly to stop hiding in the office and to come and give us a hand.”
My head whips to the side.
“ Aly’s here ?”
“Um, yeah. She came in about seven hours ago.” Suspicion creases her brow.
“ Something going on between you two?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.
“ Fuck , pretend I didn’t say that.”
“Okay, let’s pretend I didn’t tell you this.” She glances around, like Aly is about to jump out.
“ She looked pretty pissed when she walked in. Quinn texted to say that she and Martin were having coffee this morning at the bakery and it appeared…tense. I’m not trying to gossip. I just thought you should know.”
I squeeze her shoulder.
“ No , thanks for telling me.” My eyes drift to the back of the restaurant as I weigh up my options.
“She’s still here. Maybe seeing you will cheer her up.” Jo shoots me an encouraging smile until she reads my mood.
“ Is it serious between you?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Suddenly feeling drained, I prop my elbows on the bar and drop my head into my hands.
“ She’s leaving.”
“When?” Jo asks.
I shrug. “ That’s it, I don’t know when, and we agreed this was casual. I know you don’t like her, but there’s a lot more to her than meets the eye.”
“Hey.” A bony elbow jabs me in the ribs.
“ I never said I didn’t like her. I don’t know her. Apparently , she accepted Quinn’s invitation to our Galentine’s dinner, so hopefully that’ll change. It means she’s here for another few weeks too.”
Johanna’s optimism confuses me further .
“Booth?” she whispers.
I peek through my fingers and find her staring at me in delight.
“ It’s not a bad thing that you like her. So what if she’s leaving? New York isn’t far. I’ve seen how you are with her—you couldn’t be more obvious. But I’ve also seen how she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching.”
“Yeah, and how’s that?” I ask sarcastically.
She smiles at me gently.
“ Like she can finally stop searching. When her eyes land on you, she’s found it.”
Invisible strings stand me to attention.
I’m hyperaware of my heart thumping in my chest, threatening to break free.
“None of us have ever seen a woman that puts up with your shit either. The way you two argue is bizarre, but who am I to judge?”
I chuckle.
“ It’s our foreplay.”
She shudders before grabbing me by the shoulders and shoving me away.
“ Don’t make me judge you. Go find her, you charmer.”
My legs need little encouragement.
Those strings propel me toward the office.
Outside , I pause, hand hovering above the door handle before I slowly twist it.
A low hum buzzes beneath my skin, increasing in intensity when I spot Alessandra behind the desk.
Fuck, if I haven’t missed her.
She’s deep in concentration, eyes darting left and right as she reads the screen of her laptop.
Her gaze cuts to me at the creak of the old door hinges.
Focused to frustrated.
“What are you doing?” Her abrupt tone is my first warning sign.
I dismiss it.
“Well, hello to you, too, beautiful.” Hoping to lighten the mood, I wink at her.
Nothing .
Jo wasn’t wrong, she’s pissed, and I bet it has to do with this morning’s meeting.
This version of Aly isn’t new to me, nor does it scare me off .
I round the desk and crouch in front of her.
With the tip of my finger, I move to tuck a glossy curl behind her ear, but when I brush her cheek, she wheels out of reach.
“I asked what you’re doing, Booth ?” she asks impatiently.
Something is very wrong.
Aly can be abrasive and snappy, but this is different.
On closer inspection, dark shadows line under her eyes.
The desk is littered with papers and documents.
A coffee stain marks her otherwise pristine blouse.
She’s unsettled.
“I’m checking in on you,” I reply calmly.
Sitting on my haunches, I rest my hand on the arm of the chair—mostly to stop her from putting more distance between us.
“ Talk to me.”
Behind the frustrated glow in her eyes, there’s a fragile softness.
“I’m busy. And you should be too.” She goes to spin away but fails.
“ Let go.”
“Talk to me,” I repeat and tighten my grip on the chair.
“What are you, a parrot? Stop trying to get under my skin. I don’t have time.” Panic accompanies the anger in her voice, her face a complexity of emotions.
My shoes scuff across the floor as I shuffle closer.
“ That doesn’t work on me anymore. Pushing me away is only going to make me try harder. Did he not show up?”
She stiffens.
Anger pools in my stomach at the thought of Martin standing her up.
I find it hard to believe, considering his reaction earlier in the week.
I raise my hand to cup her cheek, voice tender.
“ Jo says you’ve been here for hours. Let’s call it a day.”
For a second, her muscles slacken, and she leans into the touch.
“You can trust me, Silver ,” I whisper.
Like she’s stepped on a live wire, her eyes ping open and she jumps to her feet.
“ Don’t call me that. ”
Taken aback, I choose my next words carefully.
“ Did something happen?”
“Yes. No . It’s …” She releases a tense breath.
“ This was a mistake. We should have stuck to one night.”
My head snaps back at the abrupt change in direction.
I’m used to her sharp words, but these hit differently.
These are tipped with venom, made to harm.
And they strike me square in the chest.
My knees scream in pain.
I’m at her feet, because when am I not?
I’ve fallen without warning.
There’s no time to gauge how close the ground is until I’m meeting the concrete face-first.
Smack.
When Aly draws arms, backing down isn’t the solution.
You’ve got to fight fire with fire.
Rising to my full height, I brush off my pants.
“ I didn’t take you as a liar.”
With eyes wide—in shock or anger, who knows—she points at the door.
“Get out and go do your job,” she spits.
I lean forward, eyes narrowing.
“ Is that what you want? Because not five days ago, you were singing a different tune. Crying out my name and falling asleep in my arms. Sure didn’t seem like a mistake then.”
“People do stupid things when they need to get laid. You’ve fulfilled your duties. Well done.” She crosses her arms, stance wide as she prepares for war.
“ You’re dismissed.”
I’m not surrendering.
If this is how she wants to get out her frustrations, then so be it.
I’ll be her punching bag.
I’ll take each hit gladly if it means she quits hiding.
“Is that all you’ve got, Silver ?” I dig.
“ Or are you ready to be honest?”
Sage and lavender stuns me when she steps into my space, and I bite back a groan.
“How’s this for honesty?” she barbs.
“ You use humor and stupidity to stop people from looking too closely. If you dropped the act, they’d all see what I see.”
“And what’s that?” I press closer, our fronts flush.
“You’re not scared of letting your family down, but of going after what you want. It’s an excuse.” She jabs me in the chest. “ You’re scared of failing.”
I’m not sure what response she was hoping for, but I doubt it was this.
I snatch up her wrist and smash our lips together.
However this ends, we’re going out fighting.
She gasps as I bite down on her plump bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth.
Her hands grip my shirt to push me away, but I fist the back of her hair, sealing our fate.
She meets me with fervor.
Pain, anger, and raw desire fuel this kiss.
I’m mad. Mad at her for trying to go at this alone.
Mad at her for pushing me away.
Mad at her for calling me out.
She’s mad. Mad at me.
Mad at life. Mad at the world.
We are madness. A beautiful carnage.
This can’t last forever, so I give her my all in sixty seconds before breaking the kiss.
She’s left panting and clutching at my clothes.
Dazed , until the coolness in her gaze freezes over.
“Why did you do that?” Her fingertips brush along her swollen lips.
“If you really want me out of your hair, then consider me gone. I’ll be cordial and well behaved until you jet back to New York .” I grasp her jaw with one hand and tilt her head back.
“ At least I got one last taste. But on the off chance you’re bluffing”— I graze my lips over her temple, breathing her in—“you know where to find me. Hide all you want, Alessandra .”
Her hands float in the air as I retreat, eyes never leaving hers.
“But I see you. All of you. And it doesn’t scare me.”