5. Summer
Summer
E ven in early July, the weather in the Pacific Northwest can’t be trusted. Some years, it rains nonstop through the parade, soaking the pageant queens in their convertibles and melting the scattered crowd candy. Others, it’s sweltering heat on the concrete of Front Street, with nary a breeze from Freedom Bay to cool. This year, it was a perfectly pleasant sixty-six degrees on the sidewalk. By noon, people were setting up their chairs in front of the hotel to prepare for the two p.m. parade.
My assistant manager, Lucia, was due to arrive at twelve-thirty to take over for me.
A part of me hoped she would get stuck in traffic or twist her ankle or something so that I would have to stay and miss the parade party. But it was not to be. Lucia arrived, as fresh as ever, at 12:27 p.m. Blast her punctuality and professionalism.
I gave her a quick rundown of the guests. We were fully booked because of the holiday weekend. When I offered to stay, she shooed me to my office to change, reminding me that, since I started, I had been working over sixty hours every week.
With my office door locked, I changed from my white button-down and black slacks to a blue sundress and nude sandals. I styled my hair that morning in a braided coronet. Pulling out the pins, I shook my head until the kinked strands cascaded around my face. If I had more time, I would have curled my hair, but the slightly crunchy wave would have to do.
Using the camera on my computer, I applied a swipe of mascara, bronzer, and watermelon-colored lipstick. I had forgotten a strapless bra, so I would need to go without or risk everyone seeing the thick-strapped dirty-dishwater monstrosity I had pulled on. I needed to invest in a bra that cost over thirty bucks.
Luckily, my small boobs could afford me a braless day. Not that I didn’t wish I had the cleavage. Why Autumn got the buxom DNA and I didn’t was a crime.
Standing back, I turned this way and that, making sure I looked presentable enough.
Briefly, I wondered what Van would think, but it didn’t matter. This was a no-strings-attached occasion. It was obvious he wasn’t the settling-down type—even if he didn’t explain how he didn’t want to find another girl to bring, since she’d think it was more serious than that. It was in the way he flirted. He was used to the short term.
As I walked out of my office, Lucia raised a brow. “Aye, look at you. Está buena!”
I gave a mock curtsy and shrugged. “Thank you, thank you.”
“This guy better treat you good.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s nothing serious. Not even a date.”
She crooked a sculpted brow and pushed me out the employee door.
I didn’t want Van to see my place, so I had asked him to meet me at work. With over twenty minutes before he got there, my stomach was in knots.
At the bar, Neil was restocking after the brunch rush of mimosas and Bloody Marys.
Never having a chance to try signature cocktails I had been recommending to the guests, I thought a quick drink could help.
On the high-back leather stool, I ordered a cherry fizz and took stock of the bar. It had become second nature to think of improvements at the hotel. Moving the tables in the center closer to the window would allow us to install a second armchair and create a little nook in the corner. The small candlelights were already looking worn; maybe something metal instead would look better than cloth.
On my phone, I pulled up the restaurant supply store and scrolled through options.
Beside me, a stool pulled out, and a man sat. He was slender, with shaggy dark-auburn hair.
Not Van.
The man ordered an IPA and turned toward me. “Summer. Hey.”
I raised my head to see Nicolai Evjen smiling at me. He stepped down from his stool and strolled to me.
“Nico. Hi.” I leaned forward and gave him a one-armed hug.
He had been good friends with my older cousin Oliver since they were kids, but I didn’t know him well. He was at least ten or eleven years older than Autumn and I. In a small town, we had a level of familiarity with each other.
“Ollie mentioned this was your spot.” He settled into the chair beside me, pulling it forward by reaching between his legs.
“It is. Been managing it for a little over a month now.”
Nico leaned over the bar to grab his beer and pulled it closer to him before angling his body toward me. “It’s wild seeing you. I wanted to reach out a while ago but wasn’t sure.”
I quirked a brow. “Me?”
Nico was handsome, all lean lines and hair a touch too red to be called brown. I remember when I would have sleepovers at Autumn’s, when we’d catch Oliver and Nico sneaking back in after a night of teenage debauchery. Nico had a kindness to us Oliver never exhibited.
Growing up, Autumn and I were more like sisters than cousins, and Ollie treated me like a sibling, grudges included. He never forgave us for the time we spilled Sunny D all over his gaming keyboard. Or when we stole all his socks and dyed them hot pink. Yet he was fiercely protective of us. When my homecoming date had left me at an after-party without a ride, Ollie had come to get me and then tracked the guy down and threatened him to tears. Fond memories indeed. But he was still a pain in the ass.
I had a certain warm regard for Nico. I think all four of us had a small crush on him.
We ignored the brief infatuation Wren had for Ollie. Absolutely disgusting.
Nico was a known entity. He wouldn’t have been flirting with me if he had a girlfriend; to do so would incur the wrath of his best friend.
Tucking a wavy strand of hair behind my ear, I leaned closer. “What did you need to talk about?”
A muscle ticked in Nico’s jaw, and he swallowed. “Look, don’t shoot the messenger, alright?”
That didn’t sound good. If this was his version of flirting, it was terrible.
“Okay—”
“You know how I work with contractors on base, right?”
Nico, like many in the area, worked for the Department of Defense, building torpedoes or ships or something for the military. Between the three bases in our county, it was the largest employer in the area. You couldn’t spit a wad of gum without hitting someone who worked on base.
“Sure, yeah.”
“So, we have this new guy that started in our code. Cory Thompson. I think you know him?”
At Cory’s name, a chill settled in my stomach.
With a shaky hand, I grabbed my drink and gulped half the tart cocktail.
My reaction must have been the confirmation he needed.
“A week or two ago, Thompson started running his mouth. He kept bragging about some chick he had on the side. And he was flashing your picture around.”
A bone-deep chill soaked my bones.
“Wha—” I cleared my throat, the question scaring me as the trembling words tumbled out of me. “What kind of picture?”
Nicolai had the decency to look away, his cheeks pink.
“I didn’t look at them. Told him to put the phone away. You’re a kid to me. I mean, I know you’re an adult but not really. At least not to me.”
A lump formed in my throat that I couldn’t swallow.
Cory was a cheater, but he wouldn’t, would he? He told me he’d delete them. My right eye twitched as I tried to make sense of what Nico said.
“Are you sure they were—”
Of course they were me. It was one thing to have my photos on his phone but another thing for him to show other people. Ones I might know.
“It was you. I recognized your birthmark.” He coughed into his fist. “I mean, I’ve seen you in a swimsuit before, so—”
My birthmark. A large brown misshapen daisy mark covering the ribs on my right side.
Bringing my drink to my mouth? I knocked the rest back. This fifteen-dollar cocktail was meant to be savored, but I needed to fuel the fire building in my chest.
“He’s a piece of shit. If it wouldn’t risk my security clearance, I would have punched him. I won’t tell anyone.”
It was a kind gesture, but if Nico had seen my boobs, then so did countless others. As if it wasn’t bad enough to be the other woman, he was sharing my private photos.
Before discovering this, I had filed Cory under the “shitty boyfriend” column. But this was grounds for an upgrade.
Swallowing the simmering fire in me, I set my empty glass down. “I appreciate it, Nico. I’ll handle it.” I waved at Neil to get me another drink.
It was far too early to be slamming hard liquor, especially at my job, but if I couldn’t dull the wrath, it would fester inside me and make me do something very, very bad.
Doubt flashed over his face. Maybe he could imagine my plans, but instead of offering more insight, he changed the subject, asking about my dad.
After drinking his beer, he wished me well, giving me a second one-armed hug before leaving a healthy tip for Neil.
Why can’t a nice guy like that be into me?
“Starting early, sunshine?” My date eyed the drink, a frown playing on his full lips.
Did he have to be so handsome? It was disgusting. He had one of those sharp jawlines, like a model out of a cologne commercial, just the right amount of scruff and hard lines.
“You okay to come to the party?”
Tapping my nails together, I considered his question. This was my out. I could go home and plot the demise alone in my small apartment. Or I could go to this party with a sinful-looking man, get all the pictures I wanted, then plot Cory’s fate.
Van reached over me, grabbed the drink, and put his lips to my lipstick stain. His eyes never left mine as he sipped.
He set the half empty glass down. “That was a rhetorical question. You’re coming whether you like it or not.”
Going to a party with this strange man under even stranger circumstances was shaping up to be a bad idea. But I was never one to wallow in my feelings alone. A distraction with a little scheming might do the trick. Plus, free drinks.
“Let’s skedaddle, big guy.”
Before I could fish money out of my wallet, Van had put a fifty down on the bar, then held my hand to lead me off the stool.
I wished I was wearing my wedge heels. He towered over me while I wore my flats.
Those silver eyes bored into mine. He traced the back of my hand with his thumb before letting me go.
My breath stuttered out of me as I glanced away and waved at the money on the counter.
“That’s too much. I get an employee discount and—”
He placed a hand on my back to usher me through the lobby and out onto the bustling Front Street.
Caleb, behind the desk, raised a brow as I passed, but we kept moving.
I should have met Van at a different spot to avoid gossip.
Out in the summer sun, the lines to watch the parade were three people deep, with small children sitting on the sidewalks and their feet dangling into the road, a fortress of lawn chairs, and people standing behind them.
A vendor with light-up wands, bubble machines, and plastic Viking swords zigzagged the street, selling his wares. The parade wasn’t scheduled to start for another forty-five minutes, but viewing real estate was precious on the five-block route.
As we moved through the crowd, dodging children with sticky candied apples and adults with dripping ears of buttered corn, Van paused to allow me to catch up, his strides being larger than mine. After we got separated for the third time, he gripped my hand—more logistical than friendly, but I didn’t mind the tingle of awareness his touch gave me.
On the corner, crowds dissipated as the sidewalk ended in the residential area. As we approached a familiar house, I tugged on his hand, and he stopped to glance back at me. “Wait, who’s your boss?”
“Dennis Haruki.”
I laughed. “Haruki? Really? You could have led with that at The Cabin.”
“Do you know him?”
“You could say that.” I grinned.
At the entry path to the large white house, a small dog rushed toward me.
Taking my hand from Van’s, I bent down to pick it up. “Hi, Momo. Hi, my little momsers,” I cooed.
Van furrowed his brow.
The two drinks had definitely made me a little loopy, and seeing his confusion was priceless.
“You know his dog?”
Still crouched, I smiled at him. “Mr. Haruki is my friend Devin’s grandfather. I practically grew up here.”
The man of the hour came walking down, donning a big smile, his arms wide.