7. CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
ETHAN
“ Y ou’re here,” Jill calls when I step through the front door. A smile appears on her face, and there’s a hint of relief in her voice.
“I just finished my shift at the department. What do you need me to do?” I ask my sister as I maneuver my way around a crowd forming at the bar. It’s only five o’clock, but already, the drinks are flowing and the place is loud.
“We have a few large parties coming in soon, so I need you behind the bar. Logan is in the back, managing the crew. Carter is out there somewhere,” she points into the sea of people, “entertaining the crowd.”
“You mean flirting with them?” I chuckle.
Carter, who just turned twenty-six, is the king of socializing. Which is at complete odds with how he was as a teenager. Back then, he was a quiet kid who blended into a crowd, forever observing, watching. Never the talker. When he and Logan started making plans to open up their own restaurant after college, I naturally thought Logan would be the face of the establishment, not reserved little Carter.
Jill gives me a tight smile as she pulls out six shot glasses and fills them with a pale-yellow gin. “I wish they’d hire somebody competent enough to make a mai tai. I mean, seriously, how hard is it to remember orange juice?”
“Is Peter here?” I ask. Her fiancé typically helps out on the weekends, filling in as needed. Kind of like what I’m doing right now.
She shakes her head. “He has a trial to prepare for. He’ll be working a lot over the next few weeks.”
“And you?” I ask as I round the bar.
If he’s going to be busy, that typically means she will be too.
With a sigh, she gives me a small smile. “I’m taking a step back. We hired another attorney.”
I come to a halt beside her. “Seriously?”
“I know. I know,” she says, cringing. “You were right. Peter and I have to figure out how to separate work life and home life. If we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, we need to find some kind of balance. So that’s what we’re doing. I’ll help out here until Logan and Carter hire somebody competent enough to last more than a day.”
Jill reaches under the counter and pulls out a black apron with Four Oysters embroidered on the front. “But enough about me. You look good today. Happy even.” Slapping the apron against my chest, she moves on to pouring clear liquor into an assortment of glasses.
I toss the apron back under the counter. Though that may not be the smartest idea, since I’m wearing a very clean, very white T-shirt.
Just as I’m about to tell her that, for the first time in a very long time, I’m content—that in these last two weeks, without Victoria in the picture, I’ve felt more alive than I have since my days in the Marine Corps—a familiar raspy voice garners our attention.
“You, Ethan Tate, are covered in the most beautiful white and pink auras I’ve ever seen.” Hazel, Hope Island’s very own town psychic, makes her way toward us wearing a warm smile.
She leans over the dark wood countertop and points a bejeweled finger at me. “Do you know what that means? It means that there’s purity in your heart, and love is on the way.”
I give her a half cringe, half smile. I’ve known Hazel my whole life, and I discovered long ago that it’s easiest to agree with her.
Her brows angle up in despair. “You can’t make that face and hope to land the love of your life. It looks like you’re constipated.” She tilts her head one way, then the other, then peers over one shoulder. “What happens if she’s here right now?”
Jill laughs but doesn’t even try to come to my rescue.
“Your body must be cleansing itself of that woman,” Hazel says, keeping her voice low. “I didn’t like her very much. Her aura was always so murky and negative.” She waves both hands around me, as if to help dispel Victoria from my being.
“You and Luther drinking the usual?” Jill moves in, pulling two pilsners from the shelf above us.
“Jill.” Hazel’s expression changes. “Are you feeling okay? You’re surrounded by a dull violet halo. That suggests depression. Are you taking antidepressants? I know a really good therapist if you need one. Let me see if I have his number.”
I slip away just as Hazel knuckles her phone, muttering something about Dr. Tim.
For the next hour, I crack open beers and mix cocktails, serving them to men in crisp button-down shirts and women exposing more skin than I see at the beach. Most of the people here know me and make promises not to drink and drive. Some women flirt, but I don’t indulge in conversation. That’s Carter’s territory, not mine.
I’m knee deep in Vodka Tonics when the sound of my name catches my attention.
When I look up from the drink I’m pouring, Tessa is waving at me from across the bar. I scan the area on either side of her. When I don’t see Kinzie, my shoulders drop.
She makes her way over and plops down on a barstool. “It’s crazy busy in here tonight.”
With a hum, I give her a nod. “I think it’s like this every night.” I wipe down the bar in front of her and drop a cocktail napkin onto the lacquered top. “Did you just get out of work?”
She lets out a long exhale. “Yes. And I’m starving.”
I toss a menu at her. “Got your heart set on something in particular?”
She quickly pushes it away. “Oh. No. Jill didn’t tell you?”
Brows arched in question, I put the menu back on the stack beside me.
“There will be ten of us. I’m just waiting for them to clear off those tables.” She nods to the back of the dining room, where the hostess and a bus boy scrub down two empty tables.
“Special occasion?” I ask, keeping my tone even, though my heart takes off. With a group that big, there’s a good chance Kinzie will be here.
“Yup. Derrick and I have big news and wanted to share it with everyone at the same time.”
I side-eye her as I mix a chocolate martini for the girl next to her.
“Before you go on looking at me like that, no, I am not pregnant. Nothing like that for us. That’s always been Kinzie’s dream. Maybe one day, Derrick and I will be ready, but right now, our careers are more important.”
When Kinzie’s name falls from her lips, my heart rate picks up even further.
“Speaking of Kinzie, she should be here soon.” Tessa looks at her watch and then glances at the door. “Actually, Dr. Tim will be here too.” With those words, her face falls.
My chest tightens. There is no way Kinzie would ever go for a guy like Dr. Tim. Sure, he’s a great therapist, but he is not what I’d call a nice guy when it comes to women.
“I want to apologize,” Tessa says, angling in closer and lowering her voice. “After you left the house that day, I asked Tim how the two of you knew each other and he mentioned you were his patient. If I would have known, I would never have—”
“It’s okay. I had a great time.” I don’t actively tell people about my trauma, about the nightmares that wake me up most nights, but Tessa couldn’t have known about our connection.
Her expression lifts, and she straightens, but before she can respond, her phone vibrates against the bar top.
“Hey, baby,” she says as she brings the phone to her ear. She plugs her other ear with a finger and glances at the door. “I’m inside at the bar, but I think they just finished cleaning off our table. When you walk in, go straight back, and you’ll see me.”
“Do you want me to put in an order for appetizers before—”
I’m cut off by a scream from my sister. I turn and search for her at the other side of the bar, sure she’s chopped her finger off trying to slice a lime. Instead of wearing a pained expression like I’m expecting, her face is split in a large, cheesy grin, and her focus is fixed on the front door.
I follow her line of sight until my attention lands on Derrick and the woman beside him.
She has long, sleek espresso hair, and she’s wearing a short black satin dress that shows off her very long, very lean legs. From the side, she looks like a fucking model. A curve at her waist and then at her cleavage. Two silver straps hold the tiny piece of fabric in place, barely containing her breasts. She turns, wearing a million-dollar smile, but as quick as I see it, it disappears. And that’s when my eyes meet hers.
“Holy shit,” I say aloud. It’s fucking Kinzie. What the fuck? The martini glass I’m holding slips from my hands and falls to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. At the sound, I step back, but as I do, I bump into Carter, whose arms are full of dishes ready to be delivered to tables.
I stumble and try to catch my balance, but it’s too late. I go down hard and land on my ass.
“Fuck.” I haul myself back up and duck my chin.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up . I do my best to keep my attention averted, but it’s no use. Because I’m a fucking idiot.
Jill has already made her way to Kinzie, and just as the two of them fall from each other’s embrace, they look straight at me.