3. Kayla
CHAPTER THREE
KAYLA
I turn around from clearing dishes to see the cute guy at the booth, staring with the same intensity as when I took his order. At least the Black guy, Hunter, made small talk. Mr. Tall, Blond, and Blue-Eyed didn’t even hint at a smile. Looking at him now, his hair isn’t all blond. An even mix of light brown breaks up the paler strands falling over his eyes in a way that makes me wonder, for a split second, how soft it would feel on my fingertips if I brushed it out of his face.
What the hell?
Maybe Ashlie’s right if I’m imagining running my hands through the hair of a perfect stranger. I shake the thought from my head, turning away from what’s-his-name. Chance? Chad? It doesn’t really matter. Summer vacationers only stay a few days here before heading to warmer, sandier California shores. These two, with their matching gray Gradford University shirts, seem like they’re just passing through. I’ll turn up the hospitality and suffer through the pleasantries, and then they’ll be on their way.
Balancing the tray of food on my upturned palm, I grab a water pitcher and head back to the booth. “Okay. Burger for the mighty Hunter,” I tease, passing his plate to him. “And a salad for the tranquil gatherer.” I smirk at the blond. Hunter snorts a laugh, earning a smile from what’s-his-name.
“Chase,” he says, the smile remaining this time.
“Ah, that’s it!” I snap my fingers. “I knew it was something primitive.”
He’s staring again, but this time with a crooked grin plastered to his lips. The blue in his eyes gets deeper the longer I look at him, so I avert my attention down, landing on the spread of facial hair covering his chin. I swat away another thought of running my fingers down his jaw. Oh, he’s attractive, all right. And he probably knows it too.
Hunter clears his throat. “I was just telling Chase I’ve never met another Black person with green eyes, aside from the people in my family. It’s pretty rare.”
“Yeah.” I bob my head. I can’t go a day without someone interrupting me just to tell me about my own eyes. “I hear that a lot, actually. Enjoy your?—”
“Maybe you can help us out.” The words rush out of Chase like he’s been dying for a chance to speak.
“With what, exactly?”
“Hunter here is convinced Fort Bender has nothing fun to offer. That can’t be true.”
“There’s tons to do here. We have Crystal Beach, Bender Botanical Gardens, Redwood Rail Bikes, hiking, bonfires on The Bluffs, so many museums, and the Herb Train that goes to this cool little outdoor bar.”
“Herb? Like, herb -herb?” Hunter asks, pinching his pointer finger and thumb together and tipping them to his mouth with hopeful eyes.
“No.” I shake my head, laughing. “The man who designed the rail system was named Herbert. Hard H . Herb. That type of train wouldn’t have been legal yet. You might be able to leave a suggestion card now though.”
“A puff-puff train is right up Hunter’s alley,” Chase ribs, grinning so wide it shows off his impossibly straight teeth.
“Alright, alright, maybe it won’t be so bad here,” Hunter concedes. “So we’ll see you around this summer, then? You sound like the perfect tour guide.”
“Oh, me? Naw, not really. I’ll be working.”
“All summer?” Chase asks earnestly. His eyes bore into mine so intensely I have to look away again.
“I—”
“Patty,” my boss calls from the back office. “Come here a sec.”
“Yep, all summer. I’ll be your cashier at the counter whenever you’re ready. Enjoy!” I scurry back to Ms. Patti’s office.
Saved by the boss.
Patti’s gimmicky idea to give everyone who works in the diner the pseudonym Patti evolved out of an abundance of caution to protect us waitresses from overeager tourists. Our town is small enough that almost everyone knows everyone’s name, but to visitors, we’re all known as Patti . Or Patty . Or Pattie . I’m pretty sure we’ve had a Pat in the past too. Her foresight has saved me a time or three, and right now, I silently thank her for the fallback. Cute tourists equal distractions. As my mom would say, Ain’t nobody got time for that .
“Hey, Patti, what’s up?” I slip into a chair next to her office door.
“I’m finalizing details for the internship interview at the end of the season. Seaside Catering has been hired to service a shareholders’ event for a tech company called EdTechU. You’re still going for the internship, right?”
Definitely .
Catering isn’t my final destination, but this internship, along with my degree in event management, will give me the last bit of experience I need to make my dreams of becoming an event planner come true. I love planning, organizing, and executing ideas. Taking a vision and watching it come to fruition. Even the contracts and budgets are something I enjoy. My kaleidoscope of responsibilities has helped me gain exposure to some of those other skills, but this opportunity would be the cherry on top. I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. Now it’s so close I can almost taste it.
“Yes. Absolutely. One thousand percent yes,” I say.
“Great!”
She’s aware of how hard I’ve worked for this. Like me, Patti grew up here in Fort Bender. She left to receive a degree in restaurant management and returned here to renovate an old hardware store into the Patti’s Place of today. A few years ago, she created the offshoot Seaside Catering, which has become a top catering service for the northern coast of California.
This diner holds a significant spot in my memory. It’s where we came to celebrate all my milestones—awards, post-game team bonding, graduations—you name it. When I reached junior high, I came after school most days for a milkshake or a piece of her most popular apple pie. I asked for a job in high school, and she said yes on the spot. She teased I was there every day anyway, so she might as well pay me for it. Ms. Patti got to watch me grow up, and it feels fitting to embark on my professional journey under her guidance.
Her expression shifts as she puts her businesswoman face on. “There are two positions this year, and three of you vying for them. We’ll need to be all-hands-on-deck with everyone’s head in the game, so to speak. It looks like we’ll be in San Francisco, so I need you to mark your calendar for August 5. When I have the final details, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Got it.” I slide my phone from my back pocket and enter the date into my overflowing calendar. “What can I start working on now?”
“Is it okay, Kayla?” she asks with furrowed brows. “I know how hard you’re working this summer. It’s a lot, and I don’t want the stress to get to you.”
“I can handle stress. It’s no big deal.”
“The diner, camp counselor, babysitting, and who knows what else you’ve taken on.” She leans back in her office chair, lacing her fingers over her midsection. “You’re young and still need to live a little… So no, I’m going to wait to give you details until after you’re done with camp. You’ll still have plenty of time to get things ready after that.”
“I’m fine, Ms. Patti,” I urge, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Really. I’ll be fine.” I have a lot on my plate this summer, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Where most people would crumble under the pressure of a packed schedule, I’ve found compartmentalizing to be easy. I can stick things on the shelf in the back of my mind, putting the worry on ice until I have to deal with it again. Some might call it avoidance. I call it efficiency. It works well for me and makes focusing on the task at hand a lot more manageable. Getting ready for this internship is something I’ve been looking forward to since I decided to apply. I’m itching to get my foot in the door, and her withholding the information because she thinks I’ll crumble under the pressure is annoying. I know what I can handle.
“No.” She shakes her head, setting her final words in stone as she sits up in her chair. Like someone hit a switch, her face relaxes, and her eyes glint mischievously. “Speaking of fine , did you see the guys at the booth? Whew !” She fans herself. “Talk about a hot boy summer.”
I chuckle and groan. “That’s not what that means, Pat!”
“Well, it should. I may be old, but I’ve got eyes. They’re right around your age too. Maybe living a little could include one of them.” She wiggles her eyebrows, giving a shoulder shimmy.
The bell next to the cash register dings, and I’m on my feet, headed to the door before she tries out any additional out-of-pocket lingo. “I don’t have time for boys this summer.”
“That’s the whole problem!”
Just as I reach for the doorknob, she puts a hand on my forearm. Her brows furrow like before. “You’ll let me know if it’s too much, right? We can always cut back hours here at the diner.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say again. And after her repetitive questioning, I think I’m still telling the truth. This summer is packed, but that’s how I’ve always liked it in the past. Busy helps me stay on top of things. Busy keeps me safe. I don’t waste time thinking so much when I’m running around putting out everyone else’s fires.
When I get up to the register, Chase is standing there, alone, drumming his fingers at his side as he smiles at something on his phone. That smile probably helps him get away with a lot, paired with that hair and…everything else.
“It’ll be $20.75. We take everything except check,” I say, glancing over to the empty booth. “Is Hunter out on the prowl?”
He slides his phone into his pocket and smiles at me while fishing for his wallet. “With him, anything’s possible. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s halfway back to LA by now.”
“He’s not a fan of Bender so far?”
“He just hasn’t given it a chance yet. Hunter’s more of a sandy beach, sunshine, girls everywhere kind of guy.”
“And you’re…?” My voice trails as I internally kick myself for sounding interested. I have no business asking that kind of question to a cute stranger who’s been staring at me for the last hour.
“I’m the kind of guy who can wait patiently to learn your real name.” He smirks.
His sudden confidence is a stark difference from earlier, and it throws me off guard. My mouth gapes as I struggle to think of a response, and the butterflies surging through my core are no help. Cute, shy tourists are one thing, but confident, charming ones scream danger to everything inside of me. I wish he would skip the flirting, pay his bill, and get out of town so I can finish my shift in peace.
“I’ll be here all summer,” he adds. “Plenty of time to bump into each other and get acquainted.”
With my pulse hammering in my ears and the flutters scattering throughout my chest, I almost miss what he said.
All summer ?
I have to see him around town for the next three months, with that smile and those eyes? “I guess it’ll be your lucky day, then.” My attention drops to the register screen.
“Oh, it definitely will be.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch him slip something into the tip jar on the counter. “Thanks!”
“Sure. The food was great, and the waitress was…” He pauses, waiting until I flick my eyes up to his before he says, “phenomenal.” He winks at me. Winks. Like he’s used to girls melting at the expression. I wouldn’t call what happens to me melting. Maybe a slight warming. And yeah, my face flushes. He can’t see it, but he smirks like he can.
“See you next time, Patty .”
Once he leaves through the door, I puff out the breath I’ve been holding and lean back against the counter. Since when does winking turn me stupid? I’ve been winked at before, and it’s never made me blush. Yet here I am, fanning my face, thinking about his ocean blue eyes and crooked smile. That thing could brighten up any space, especially paired with the tiny sense of humor he seemed to find before leaving. Hopefully, he and his friend find another restaurant to frequent while they’re here and he can wink at some other unsuspecting waitress.
I notice one of Patti’s white business cards in the tip jar, tucked under the cash Chase slipped in. I contemplate putting it right in the trash, but when I pick it up, there’s a phone number and one sentence scrawled on the back:
Next time, try not to steal my breath away.
—Chase.