Chapter 2
JACK
The table was sticky with spilled beer and lobster-shell detritus.
After eight months, I still found it entertaining to watch people who’d never demolished a whole lobster before give it a try.
It wasn’t so entertaining when you were the one who had to clean up after them.
Bits of shell and flesh went everywhere, even the walls.
I finished clearing and wiping down the table, restocking the cutlery and napkin holder, then picked up the tray loaded with dirty dishes.
It was only as I headed towards the kitchen that I realized Hannah had come downstairs and was sitting on a barstool, watching me.
She’d helped herself to a bottle of wine from behind the bar and had poured a glass, twirling the stem between her fingers.
A sure sign that she was feeling either sad or bored.
‘Are you almost finished?’ she asked, as I drew near her.
‘Not for a while yet.’
She sighed. ‘I’m bored.’
Bingo.
‘Well, you know what I’m going to say to that.’
‘Set a table,’ she said, mimicking my voice. ‘Wipe down the bar. Take an order.’ She blew her hair out of her eyes. ‘Newsflash, it’s too hot to do any of those things.’
‘You don’t have to do all three,’ I pointed out, smiling. ‘Just pick one and start there.’
She gestured around the room to where various staff were carrying out their duties. ‘That’s what these guys are paid to do.’
‘That doesn’t mean you can’t help out.’
‘You shouldn’t even be doing that,’ she replied, gesturing towards the tray I was holding. ‘You’re the manager. It’s not a good look.’
‘This isn’t like one of your fancy restaurants you’re used to back home,’ I reminded her. ‘And you know I’m not the kind of manager to stand around in a penguin suit acting like I’m better than anyone else.’
‘That’s a shame. You look cute in a penguin suit.’
‘Hannah.’
‘What?’ she said petulantly. ‘It’s a compliment. Am I not allowed to compliment you any more?’
I checked to make sure no one was within earshot. The rumor mill was already in overdrive – no need to add fuel to it. ‘I just want to keep things professional.’
She sighed. ‘Whatever. At least you referred to L.A. as home, I suppose. You haven’t done that in a while. I was beginning to think you were starting to like it here.’
‘I do like it here.’
‘But you prefer L.A.’
I pulled a face. ‘I don’t know. This place isn’t so bad.’
‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes. It matters a lot actually.’
I put the tray on top of the bar while I considered my reply. ‘OK, well, this place is growing on me, I guess. The slower pace of life. The nature right on the doorstep. I’ve even made some friends.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘What are you saying?’
‘It’s really not that bad. You’d probably like it too if you spent more than a few weeks at a time here.’
‘A few weeks is more than enough for me,’ she retorted. ‘Even that’s too much, sometimes.’
‘Well, then I guess you’ve got yourself a bit of a problem, haven’t you?’ I shifted the tray to balance the weight. ‘Seeing as you bought yourself a business here.’
‘I don’t have to be here full-time for this place to work.’
‘I know that. Even when you’re here part-time this place works just fine without you. It’s not like you lift a finger to do anything around here.’ My tone was mild, not betraying how irked I really was.
She held up one hand and showed me her long, perfectly manicured pink nails. ‘You want me to risk breaking one of these? When there isn’t a decent manicurist in this town capable of fixing it?’
‘Have you even given the local salon a chance? Because I’ve heard nothing but good things. The woman who owns it, Addison, comes in for happy hour every Friday and seems nice.’
She shuddered. ‘My girl in the city would kill me if I went to someone else. Literally.’
‘Not literally.’
‘OK maybe not literally. But I certainly wouldn’t be able to show my face there ever again.’ She pouted. ‘I’d be a social outcast, and you don’t want that, do you?’
I had to laugh. She was spoiled, but I’d known that from the moment I’d met her. I couldn’t be mad at her now when it was just the way she’d always been. It was me who had changed, not her.
‘I don’t have time to stand around chatting,’ I told her briskly. ‘Either make yourself useful or entertain yourself.’
‘Fine, I will,’ she sniffed. ‘There’s a new romance on Netflix I wanted to watch anyway. I just came down for a bottle of wine, and to tell you that I’ll be heading back to L.A. tomorrow.’
‘Again? You’ve only been here a week.’
‘Eight days, actually.’
I tried not to show the flicker of annoyance I felt. ‘Fine. Drive safe to the airport.’
‘Come with me?’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I have this place to run,’ I reminded her. ‘Your business.’
‘As your boss I hereby grant you the time off to come back to the city with me. It’ll be fun. We can catch up with friends.’ Her voice softened. ‘Do some of the things we used to enjoy doing.’
‘No.’
‘Don’t just say no. Sleep on it. Let me know in the morning.’
‘I don’t need to.’ I picked up the tray again. ‘The answer will still be no.’
‘Please come. You’re no fun any more. Don’t you think we deserve to have fun after everything we’ve been through?’
It was a dirty tactic, and I resented her for resorting to it. ‘Do whatever it is that makes you happy. But don’t get mad at me if I’d rather stay here and work.’
She stood up abruptly, picking up the glass and the bottle of wine. ‘I wish I’d never bought this place.’
I took a step backwards so she could pass. ‘Well you did. And you asked me to manage it for you. I’m just doing what you wanted, Hannah. For your future. You might not be able to appreciate it now, but hopefully one day you will.’
‘Don’t count on it,’ she retorted, then flounced off past me towards the stairs that led to the apartment upstairs. I watched her leave, feeling drained and frustrated.