Page 27 of Smoke on the Water


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Bree abandoned the ketchups she was marrying and wandered over to take his order. I pretended to focus on the menus I was wiping down, but I could feel his eyes on me in the way my skin crawled.

“Caroline?”

At the quiet voice, I snapped to attention to find Willa Hollingsworth standing by the bar. Except this wasn’t the girl I remembered hanging out with Gabi. That girl had been soft and a little bit fragile, with big hazel eyes that shone with hope and a heart that wanted to take in every animal on the island. This young woman had a wary toughness in her expression that spoke of a lack of trust in the world. It was a position I knew well from personal experience, and my heart went out to her for whatever had happened to destroy her innocence. Was it the near drowning? Or what came after?

“Willa! Welcome back to Hatterwick.” I moved around the bar to embrace her. “It’s good to see you.”

Her answering hug came after only a few moments’ hesitation. “You, too.”

“How was Beaufort?” I knew that was where her parents had relocated when they’d left the island.

“I wouldn’t know.”

I blinked at the blunt statement that clearly implied she hadn’t been in Beaufort with her parents. Which begged the question: Where had she been?

A distinct tension hung so heavily around the girl, there might as well have been a neon sign shouting I don’t want to talk about it above her head. So I let it go. There’d be time to dig deeper later if the opportunity arose.

“Jace said you were looking for a job.”

She nodded. “Anything I can find.”

“It so happens we had a server quit last week, so there’s an opening. Interested?”

“Very.”

“Have you ever waited tables before?”

“No.” For a moment her head dipped, her caramel brown hair swinging forward to hide her face before she lifted it again. “Is that a problem?”

“So long as you’re willing to learn, you can be trained.”

Because it was procedure, I went through the formal interview questions, even though I fully intended to hire her. Such was the prerogative of living in a small town. Then I described the job itself and the available hours. “You in?”

“Absolutely. I’m really grateful for the opportunity.”

“Okay. You can start tomorrow, after I adjust the shift schedule.” I filed the whole thing under the win column, even though training always took a bit of extra time and effort.

“Thank you!”

“Now, let’s talk about?—”

“Caroline Sofia Carrera!”

The furious shout had my shoulders hunching up to my ears, even before I whirled to see my father barging into the tavern. In less than a second, I registered the clenched fists, narrowed eyes, and muscle fluttering in his stubble-shadowed jaw. His cheeks were flushed nearly purple with rage as he stalked across the room.

Panic fluttered like a live thing in my throat, but I automatically slid in front of Willa. Not that he had eyes for anyone but me. “Dad.”

“You ungrateful puta. How dare you? After everything I’ve done for you. Don’t even bother to deny it. I know you were the one behind the others.”

Every eye in the place was on us, but I didn’t dare take my focus off my father. “I can see you’re upset?—”

“Upset? Upset?” His voice rose loud enough to rattle the glassware. Then it dropped dangerously low. “You left. Without a word. Just like she did.”

He meant my mother. I’d known this was a possibility when I elected to leave a note. At the time, it had seemed better than a direct confrontation. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

Though I struggled to stay calm, my voice shook. “You would have tried to stop me.”

“Damned straight. You have no right to?—”

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