Chapter Four
Tori
The next day, I stared down at Kincaid’s number, contemplating that I really didn’t have anybody else to call for a ride.
Of course, I’d grown up here and knew plenty of people, but most of them I hadn’t seen in years.
I definitely didn’t have their cell numbers.
There was also the giant ball of one ugly drama that marred my history here.
When I’d left for college, I’d all but kicked up dust behind me in the wake of escaping the gossip swirling around my family.
I tapped Kincaid’s contact information.
“Got it,” I called as I lifted the tray of drinks and hustled out to deliver them.
I loved my job. Maybe for some people, being a waitress at a winery and restaurant wasn’t all that, but I loved the hustle and bustle.
I practically never looked at the clock.
With it being summer in Alaska, there wasn’t a single day here at Fireweed Winery and Restaurant that wasn’t wall-to-wall customers with tourists crowding Alaska.
“This mead is amazing,” a woman said as I delivered the second round of drinks to their table.
I glanced at the bottle. “Yes, the blueberry mead is—” I pinched my fingers together and blew a kiss. “Chef’s kiss. One of my favorites, to be honest. Would you all like dessert?” I whisked my gaze around the group of women.
“I shouldn’t, but yes,” one of the women said.
“We’re celebrating everything,” another chimed in.
“Everything?” I prompted.
“It’s a divorce trip,” another offered.
“You came to Alaska to celebrate a divorce?”
“Yes!” one of the women said, thrusting her fist into the air. On the heels of that, they all raised their glasses and clinked them together.
“Okay, so this divorce is worthy of celebration?” I teased.
They nodded vigorously. They were a pleasure to wait on—friendly, funny, and full of questions. This was clearly a good group of friends.
“Whose divorce are you celebrating?” I asked.
“Mine!” the woman who had thrust her hand into the air said.
“Well, your dessert’s on the house,” I said.
She took a deep breath, blinking just as I saw what I thought was a flash of pain in her eyes. “So, what are our options then?”
I quickly rattled off the dessert menu, having it memorized by heart. “And, tonight’s dessert special is a blueberry cheesecake with blueberry drizzle. Also, chef’s kiss. Blueberries are in season, if you didn’t catch that detail,” I said dryly.
They all went with the blueberry cheesecake.
“Thank God I don’t have to listen to Brad bitch about my weight,” the divorcee said.
I eyed her. “You look amazing. I’m not flirting or anything. I’m just objectively offering that observation. Your ex sounds like a jerk.”
“Ava is adorable!” one of her friends—slightly tipsy—exclaimed.
The entire group giggled.
“Well, no one needs to be married or date anyone who has anything to say about their body that isn’t good, right? We celebrate the female form,” another one of the friends said.
Ava looked a little teary as her eyes arced about the table. She lifted her gaze to mine. “It wasn’t just that he bitched about how I looked. It was that when I found out he was cheating on me, he said it was because I was getting a little chubby. Do I look chubby to you?” She gestured up and down.
“Not at all,” I said firmly. She looked healthy and curvy, and beautiful. “You look amazing, and it’s all for the best. This is a perfect trip for a divorce trip, or whatever this is.”
“Thank you.” She beamed up at me, seeming to have recovered from the earlier flicker of hurt.
I got swept into the rest of the evening, as was always the case, but I couldn’t help checking on them one last time as I brought the check. I caught Ava’s gaze.
“It’s all up from here,” I told her.
“It is, right?” she pressed.
I nodded. “Absolutely.” I smiled at her, lightly squeezing her shoulder. “We all deserve to be treated well. That’s not too much to ask.”
They left me a wildly extravagant tip, which I didn’t discover until after they had gone.
The night wound down. I appreciated the later part of these evenings—wiping down the tables, putting things away, and so on.
It gave me a chance to wind down after the usually hectic pace.
I was just finishing up in the back. The kitchen was quiet, with the soft sounds of clinking and cleaning and the hum of the industrial-sized dishwasher, when I heard Tish’s voice.
“How’s it going, Tori?” she asked.
I glanced over. “Awesome. Another busy night.”
“Is it ever not busy?” Tish mused dryly, her eyes twinkling.
I grinned as I untied my apron and tossed it in the laundry basket in the corner of the break area.
“Definitely not. What are you doing here so late?”
Tish Cannon managed the administrative side of things for Fireweed Industries for the location here in Willow Brook.
When I was growing up here, they’d had a mine that shut down at some point.
Eventually, they revamped it into a renewable energy business after reopening the offices.
Somewhere along the way, someone had decided it would also be smart to open up a winery and restaurant—like their flagship location in Fireweed Harbor, in Southeast Alaska.
These additions were nothing but good news for Willow Brook, as far as bringing business and tourists to town.
“Oh, Griffin and I had dinner here, and he’s out there talking with his cousin, Archer. So, you know me, I had to do a loop.”
“A loop?” I teased.
She shrugged lightly, a sheepish smile on her face. “Just check in and see how it’s going.”
“How is Teddy doing?” I asked, referring to her toddler-aged son.
“Allie, Graham’s daughter, is babysitting.”
“Must be nice to have a night out,” I commented.
Tish tipped her head to the side. “Yes, but it’s always weird. If you ever have kids, you’ll see what I mean.” Pausing, she held a hand up. “Not that you have to have kids. Kids aren’t everything.”
I shrugged. “I don’t actually know if I want to have kids. Although they’re sure cute, but they seem like a lot of work.”
“Oh, they are a shit-ton of work.” Tish nodded firmly. With a glance at her watch, she added,” I should rustle Griffin up.”
“Always good to see you, Tish.”
Tish wasn’t technically my boss. She didn’t have much to do with the running of the restaurant, but she did sign my paychecks as the admin person in HR.
“You should come out for card night. You keep not coming,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I hedged.
“Just that. I’ve invited you three times, and three times you vague-boop your way out of it.”
“Tish!” I exclaimed, trying to ignore the prick of defensiveness inside.
“It’s at Holly’s place next week.” Her smile was warm.
“Text me the details. I’ll come.”
She texted me on the spot, just as Griffin appeared at her side.
Her husband was one of the Cannon family who owned Fireweed Industries.
It was the biggest business in Alaska, and it even made the news here and there since it was an international corporation.
It still surprised me that Griffin had been a hotshot firefighter—and still did that on occasion—even though he also worked for the family business.
They had money. Lots of it. I suppose when you were one of six siblings, maybe you wanted to strike out on your own.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, sliding an arm around Tish’s waist.
She blushed a little when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, and my heart twisted sharply in my chest with an old pain. I was always happy for anyone who was happily in love, but it still felt like something impossible for me. It was safe to say trust was hard to come by for me.
“I gotta run,” I said, offering a quick smile between them. “Have a good night. Good to see you, Griffin,” I called as I spun and hurried away.
When I got home, Bella was sound asleep, so deaf that she didn’t hear me until I got right up to her. The vet had told me she probably felt the vibration of my footsteps on the floor.
She wagged her little tail, looking a little tired, as she lumbered up to her feet. I wanted her to live forever. She was still mostly healthy and had a strong heart, but I didn’t know how much longer I’d have her.
Between the divorce party group tonight and that little pinch of seeing the way Griffin looked at Tish, Bella reminded me of what was pure and true—a dog’s love. No strings. No mess. No complications. No lies. I could always trust in that.