CHAPTER SIX #2
I blink from sheer surprise. She couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Are you serious right now? I’m one hundred percent focused on my lane.
Not sure if you can tell, but I’m in the middle of renovating a building that I purchased.
With my money. To open my restaurant. I’m focused on myself. I promise you.”
“Oh?” Something devilish lights up her eyes, and she takes a step closer.
“Maybe that’s exactly the problem, Kru. You’ve been blocking the sidewalk for an hour.
Putting on this ridiculous display of—” she sputters for a word for a moment “—physical fortitude for some non-existent audience. And now you’ve completely ruined my customer’s bulk order because you’re so focused on yourself.
Seriously, Kru. I know it might be hard to fathom, but I still have my business here too. ”
Her words are irritating. Actually, they’re hurtful. And now I’m getting mad.
“I know you’d love to believe that my entire world revolves around you,” I tell her, stepping closer as well, “but the fact of the matter is that things will work best if you do you, and I do me. This is a temporary inconvenience, but you’re acting like it’s the end of the world.
Once the construction is done and the patio furniture is in place, you’ll never be inconvenienced like this again. ”
“Until you think of something else to bother me with,” she spits.
“Do you think I’m making it my life’s work to bother you?”
“I think you have a financial interest in trying to get me out of my shop, yes. You already got me out of the apartment. I’m sure you could use an extra six hundred square feet for your neo-hipster chain restaurant small plates menu or whatever you’re going to serve in there.
Shit, you probably need a bar to dance on too—don’t you take your shirt off and dance hourly?
Isn’t that part of the gimmick at Ray’s?
Lucky for you Cloud Nine already has a bar ready for you to strip on. ”
I cock my head, equal parts annoyed and amused. “You’re just writing my business plan on the fly, aren’t you? Keep it coming.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket, opening the Notes app. “Go on. Tell me my next move. I’m writing it all down.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not surprised this aligns with your goals. But be honest with me—just admit you’re trying to drive me out of here. Because then maybe you’ll stop with these dumb games.”
“Whoa. Hang on.” I lift a palm and jam my fingers onto it to form a T. “Time out, champ. You’re jumping to a lot of conclusions and this ain’t a track meet.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ha ha, so funny.”
“You’ve done nothing but throw muffins and accusations at me since you stepped out of your angry cloud over there. So you’ve got two options right now—go back inside your shop, take a breath, and try again, or just keep walking and let me finish what I’m working on.”
She purses her lips. “I don’t like those options.”
“Not my problem.”
She reaches into her muffin box and grabs one, throwing it at me. It bounces dully off my chest and joins its squished friend at my feet.
Again, not sure if I’m more upset or amused. A laugh escapes me.
“Option three: throw a muffin at me,” I say.
“I don’t like being told what to do,” she hisses.
“Clearly.”
She scowls at me, then spins on her heel to leave. I can’t help myself. I pick up the muffin and lob it at her tightly packed ass. I can see the ricochet jiggle through her leggings and yes, it makes me smile. She gasps, turning to me with a look of shock.
“Did you just muffin my ass?”
“You muffined my chest!”
Her jaw drops further. For a moment, I’m not sure if she’s going to burst into laughter or march over here and slap me. “You deserved it.”
“So did you,” I inform her, “for all the untrue things you just said.”
She lets out a little squeak of indignation and reaches for the muffin. It’s looking a little worse for wear but still has its form. She hauls her arm back and throws it—surprisingly hard—but I’m able to step aside in time. It misses me entirely.
But then her eyes go wide just as I hear a distinct thwap.
A timid voice interrupts us.
“Um, Piper?”
Piper covers her mouth, mortified, just as I turn. A very sheepish man stands at the curb cut, behind one of my very heavy tables, his gaze darting between her and me. A squashed muffin lies at his feet.
“Oh my god, Will, I’m so sorry!” She presses a hand to her forehand, cheeks flushed. “I meant to hit him, not you. What, uh…what can I do for you?”
He clears his throat, offering me a small smile. “I came out here to chat with you and, well, whoever is in charge of Ray’s.”
I wave at him, realizing how absurd this looks.
I’m shirtless. There are cameras. Not to mention the muffins littering the sidewalk.
I reach for my shirt, still hanging from my belt.
But the damage is done. Putting the shirt on now would just prove to everyone that I should have been wearing it all along.
“That would be me.” I offer a hand and my most winning smile, as if this might somehow distract him from the fact that I’m bare chested at noon at a local business. “I’m Kru. Head chef and owner of Ray’s.”
Will shakes my hand firmly. “It’s great to meet you. I have something that will interest you.”
He offers me a postcard from his other hand. He hands one to Piper as well.
“The Bayshore Chamber of Commerce is hosting a friendly Best of Bayshore competition. I thought you both would be interested in joining. We’re looking to highlight the best specials from local eateries.”
“That sounds amazing,” Piper gushes.
“I’d love to join,” I say.
“People will vote on the entries for the most beloved Bayshore dish.” A smile flickers at Will’s lips, but he still looks suspicious. “The sign-up information is there; feel free to reach out if you have any questions.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” Piper assures him.
“This will be a great way to launch my restaurant,” I add.
“And a great way to test my new dessert special that I’ve been working on,” she says. “Which will surely be considered one of the best things in Bayshore.”
Will smiles wanly. “Great. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll leave you two to…whatever you were doing before.” He shuffles back into the parking lot and toward his car. He’s barely ten steps away when Piper is in my face, her nose scrunched.
“I’m gonna win this,” she tells me. The fire in her eyes has me inclined to believe her. But I’m nothing if not up for a good challenge.
“You’ll win second place,” I clarify.
She harrumphs and stalks away, leaving a trail of squished muffins. I try not to stare as she walks away, so I force my gaze over to Pat. He’s got a big grin on his face, giving me a double thumbs up.
“So good it’s like you planned it in advance!” he calls out.
Maybe it seems that way to him.
But becoming the landlord and neighbor to the one-night stand of my fantasies was never something I could have planned. The pricklier Piper becomes, the more desperate I am to tap into the why .
She melted like sugar in coffee when I met her in Cleveland. And now she’s harder to crack than a frozen marshmallow.
I know I should let it go. I don’t have the time or energy to pursue the answer to a question I shouldn’t even be asking.
But I can’t let it go.
I’m not just going to find out why.
I’m going to take first place in the competition while I figure it out.