On cue, Mrs. Kern, Grace’s favorite professor, walked through the door, smiling at Grace. “Morning.”
“Morning. How’s your Saturday?” Grace pushed the espresso across the countertop.
“The girls were still asleep when I left so it’s been blissful,” she said, pulling a wallet out of her oversize purse.
During the week, Mrs. Kern was all business, her blond hair in a tight braid, makeup expertly applied, her attire a great blend of classic and functional.
On the weekends, however, she wore sweats, her hair loose, face makeup free. She was Grace’s idol, and though she couldn’t be more than thirty-five, Grace wanted tobeher when she finally grew up.
“Sounds nice. You marking our papers today?” Grace leaned on the counter while Hugo helped the two teens carrying backpacks who approached the display cabinet.
“Actually, I’m finalizing some exciting news I’ll share Monday.” She hesitated, her easy smile sliding into something… different. “Listen, Grace, I have a favor. A big one.”
Her excitement over whatever her teacher was finalizing fizzled. Grace was horrible at saying no to favors. It was how she ended up walking five dogs when she didn’t even own one. Howshe’d ended up telling Morty of course she didn’t mind staying at his house longer. How she ended up working this Saturday at the shop when she’d had the day off and could have spent it moving into her house.Or chatting with a hot guy on the beach.
“Sure.” Stretching her mouth into a smile, she hoped it looked genuine. She should have made herself a double shot of what she was serving.
“The girls have their birthday party next Sunday. Our face painter canceled. She’s got shingles, of all things. I’m in a bind.”
Pulling her lip between her teeth, Grace pictured dozens of squirmy seven-year-old girls asking for butterflies and unicorns to be drawn on their cheeks. If she could go back, she wouldn’t use her summer painting faces at a carnival as one of her truths in the icebreaker, two truths and a lie, her first class this semester in Mrs. Kern’s course.
“You’re a great artist,” Grace said weakly.
“Not on skin!” Mrs. Kern picked up her coffee. “Please. I’ll pay you three hundred dollars.”
Whoa. This favor was looking up. She had a small nest egg but that much money would let her splurge on a few extras.
“I feel bad taking your money,” Grace heard herself say.
“No reason to. I’m happy to give it if it means I don’t have to do it.”
“Then, I guess I’m in.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
Today had taken a series of detours she couldn’t have predicted. It took all of her brainpower to focus on her job instead of twirling around with the excitement of it all. She was moving into her own house. Tonight. She thought about that weird saying about the first day of the rest of someone’s life. Tonight was the first night of her dreams coming true.Look out, Harlow Beach. Here I come.
3
Noah Jansen waited outside of the fitness club for his younger brother, checking his watch again. He hated the restless energy coursing through his body and wanted to get inside, hit the punching bag. His phone buzzed with a text.
“Shit,” he said, looking at the screen.
Something came up at the radio station his brother owned—well, technically, the stationheand histwobrothers owned. Typing out a quick “that’s fine” text, he spun around, thinking he’d go for a run on the beach. He’d already gone paddleboarding but that hadn’t settled anything inside of him either.
If anything, meeting the sexy dog walker had only pumped him up more, made him feel like a kid on a sugar high.
“You lost, man?” Rob, the owner of the gym and friend of Noah and Chris’s, walked up to him, a gym bag slung over his shoulder.
“Nah. Chris was supposed to meet me here but bailed.”
“Can’t work out without your baby brother spotting you?”
Noah huffed out a laugh. “Bite me. Just trying to figure out if punching a bag is enough today.”
Rob arched his brows. “You okay?”
Fuck. Now what? You want to stand out here dissecting your feelings or something?
