What We Can’t Have (Hollywood Hot Shots #1)

Chapter 1 Austin - Getting the Details

Chapter 1

Austin - Getting the Details

J ust three more hours, then I’d be free. Why does time seem to move slowest during the mundane moments? I flipped another row of burgers on the grill. Eight hours of greasy torture on Saturdays felt like purgatory. I took comfort knowing today I got to work with my best friend, Danny.

Having someone to share my misery at Burger Burger usually made the time go faster. Not today. Lucky for us (not really), the store manager, Mr. Bolton—or Mr. Potato Head, as we fondly referred to him—worked his one Saturday of the month today. His giant mustache and potato-shaped physique made that nickname too easy. His presence in the store meant we had to keep our usual clowning around to a minimum.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and peeked over the top of the grill at Danny. He got lucky with a short shift today but got stuck on sandwich assembly duty. He used these giant hand-held condiment dispensers that looked like a funnel with a lid and a hand grip. The order on the screen told him which combination of goop to squirt on each burger. His glasses kept sliding down his freckled nose; he nudged them back up to his brown eyes with the back of his wrist. He could have been the fifth member of the crew in The Big Bang Theory . Chess, comic books, superheroes, and cosplay—that was Danny’s jam. Sports, riding dirt bikes like I did growing up—not his stuff at all. He definitely didn’t look athletic. He’d stopped growing early, so he stood on the short side. His sandy brown curls peeked out on the sides of his ball cap. His hair already showed signs of thinning and receding. When he stood next to his father, the genetic issues became clear.

“Where were you last night?” I said. “I thought we were working together.”

He didn’t answer me right away. He squirted the toppings on the bun, wrapped the completed burger, and slid it down the shoot to the front counter. The next order popped up when he touched the computer screen. I scraped the cooked burgers off the sizzling grill onto my long spatula four at a time and dropped them into a tray before sliding them into the warming oven.

“Last-minute date,” he said. “I switched with Brad for tomorrow.”

I grabbed another stack of frozen patties that crackled as I laid them in a row on the grill. “I guess it’s okay for you to ditch me for a girl. Who did you try to charm?”

Danny cleared his throat. “Sydney Campbell.”

I popped up over the grill. “Don’t know her.” I stood there with the spatula raised in my hand, waiting for Danny to elaborate.

“She’s sorority besties with Meghan. She set us up.”

Ugh, Meghan. I flipped the spatula a few times, mulling over this latest information. “You sure this isn’t one of Meghan’s tricks? That’s one mean girl without a soul. I smell something rotten in Denmark, buddy. Watch your back on this one.”

“I didn’t think about that. I know you don’t like Meghan, but I don’t think she’d sabotage her sorority sister.”

He worked silently for the next few minutes, chewing on the side of his lip. I felt bad raining on his parade—God knows he didn’t have a lot of dates—but I had personal experience with Meghan’s tricks. She participated in a hazing ritual when I pledged Kappa Sigma, and let’s say she’s lucky we have a code of conduct to uphold. I didn’t even like hearing her name, let alone knowing she had a hand in anything involving Danny.

Danny and I had been best friends since fourth grade. Back then, we were both in love with our student teacher, Miss Hawthorne. We argued over who would get to marry her. It was silly now, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Even at ten years old. We’ve been friends ever since. I figured if our friendship could survive a conflict over a woman, it would last forever. Over a decade later, I still wasn’t wrong. I’m an only child. Danny was the closest thing I had to a brother. Which of course meant it was my job to torture him about his limited love life.

“What did you do on your date, lover boy?”

Danny snapped back to life. “Dinner and a movie. I know, not terribly original, but I didn’t have time to plan something better. I didn’t want to take her cow tipping on the first date. That would have been really classy.”

“Did you score any points? I want details, man. Cough ‘em up!”

“I like her. I think we’re going out again.” The corners of his mouth lifted. He removed the basket of fries from the hot oil after the fryer beeped, then he added them on top of the fries in the holding bin and doused them with salt.

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “That’s all I get? I need more. Do you plan on telling me, or do I have to beat it out of you?”

He poured another load of frozen fries into the empty basket and drowned them in the scalding oil. He started the timer then turned back towards me. “I had an enjoyable time. She’s funny. Well, maybe witty is more accurate. She works in a bookstore. I thought I knew literature, but she has me beat on that count. Shakespeare is her all-time favorite. She told me about this trip she took over the summer with some other students to a Shakespeare festival in Stratford-upon-Avon in Canada. She smells like lilacs and vanilla. We shared popcorn at the movies. I chickened out and didn’t kiss her, and now I’m kicking myself.” He paused a moment before adding, “I’ve never met anyone quite like her.”

This last statement caused me to wave my arms back and forth above my head and spin around while singing, “Danny has a girlfriend! Danny has a girlfriend!”

Danny grabbed his sides and feigned pain from laughing too hard. Then, “Take it down ten notches. You don’t want Mr. Potato Head coming in here and accusing you of screwing up someone’s order again, do you?”

“You’re on condiment duty, not me. Admit it, your life would be completely dull and boring without me. But you’re right, we probably shouldn’t work together. I don’t know Sydney, so I can’t give you any advice.”

“I don’t know why you don’t know her. You’re both in Music Composition together.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Wait, it’s coming to me now. She’s brunette. Sits in the front row over by the window. Always has her head down, taking notes. She’s kind of cute, but not my type.”

“There’s a skirt that isn’t your type? I’m shocked. That makes more for me, thank you. Are you losing your touch with the ladies, perhaps?”

“Hey, hey. No need to impugn.” I did quite fine with the ladies, thank you. I was a hair shy of six feet tall. Fit and muscular from working out and running track. My short, coffee-colored hair had enough wave in it that all the girls wanted to touch it.

I sang in the Saturday night variety show every other weekend at the local opry. There was nothing I wanted more than to become a country music star. I’d been working on my charm game since middle school. The ladies loved that I played several instruments and had a velvet voice. Losing my touch. Ridiculous . “You’re hilarious. One date and you’ve turned into Romeo. Watch out for that dagger. Or was it the poison? I can’t remember.”

“Romeo drank the poison, genius. Thanks for the support. Maybe you want her for yourself.”

“Hardly. Smart. Sorority gal. She sounds out of your league.”

Danny scowled. “This assessment from the horndog who chases the jailbait wearing miniskirts and cowboy boots whenever we go to that line dancing club you like.”

“What are you talking about? I do have a girlfriend, loser.”

“Renee? You’re a whole different person with the ladies when she isn’t around.”

I spotted Mr. Bolton swiftly approaching in our direction. My eyes got wide, and I tried to signal Danny to shut up, but he missed my cue. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to think of something witty,” Danny said. “I get it.”

Mr. Bolton’s voice boomed right behind Danny’s ear, causing him to jump. “Maybe you can get back to work. Less talk and more action from you two jokers.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his reddened face contorted in a scowl.

Danny pivoted to face him and gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Back to work, sir.” He turned back to the condiment table. We both lowered our heads and started working furiously .

“That’s right. Joke all you want. The two of you are going to run into trouble with your shenanigans.” Mr. Bolton stood there for a moment watching us, then retreated down the aisle, shaking his head.

After a few moments, Danny broke the silence. “Thanks for the warning, pal.”

“I tried, but you were all wound up and weren’t listening.”

“Next time, try harder. He had me shaking in my sneakers.” Danny scowled. “How much longer are we in this torture chamber?”

I studied the clock. “Two hours and forty-five minutes too long. Put some more burgers on that grill. We’ll talk about your new girlfriend later.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I can hardly wait.”