“You can’t do that.”
“I’m your boss now. I absolutely can do that.”
She just bounces in place, clearly a ball of energy. I bite back a grin. Maybe it won’t be a total waste if I can channel that enthusiasm into kitchen grunt work. God knows there’s enough to do around here if we’re going to make it functional again, much less exceptional.
And I intend to make it exceptional.
“Tomorrow,” I add. “Be here at four.”
“Isn’t that kind of late... wait, in the morning?” Her face is utterly horrified.
I don’t bother hiding my amusement. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“Yes. Definitely yes.”
“Good.” I clear my throat, looking anywhere and everywhere but those doe-eyes and curtain of golden hair. “And it’s yes, Chef.”
Chapter 9
Cherries
Poppy
Three things I’ve learned today:
Alligators mostly live in fresh water.
The bugs in Florida are bigger than they have any right to be.
Jack Hartman absolutely despises me... but also, he needs me.
Not likethat, of course. I snort at the mere thought. Would he kiss me, under other circumstances? Sure. I’ve learned that pretty much any man in existence with an interest in women will at least think about it. It’s been that way since I turned sixteen, however gross that sounds. Part of the reason Dad hated it so much when I snuck out was that he thought I’d be sold into sex trafficking, and he’d have to hire ex-Marines to do a wholeTaken-esque sort of rescue. Other than a few Instagram stories, I’ve kept quiet in the days following the restaurant mess, my notifications silenced. It’s been a relief not to see all the comments and messages, especially the objectifying ones from random men on the internet.
I shiver with disgust at the thought. I’d dive under the blankets for the illusion of safety, if not for the fact the air conditioning inthis apartment is horribly out of whack. I might die of heat exhaustion in my sleep. And that’s if Igetto sleep in the first place. The window until four in the morning is dwindling with each passing minute.
Before I left the restaurant, Jack and I hammered out a plan. Well, the beginning of one. He gave me the rundown on the finances and the areas of need—he’s using his savings to fix up the restaurant—and I gave him his first assignment: decide if he’s changing the restaurant’s name. Meanwhile, he told me not to wear open-toed shoes, quote “ever again in my presence.” I teased him about having a secret foot fetish, but he didn’t even crack a smile. Judging by the hairnet he practically forced upon me earlier, I sense a lot of ugly outfits in my future.
It’s funny that we both want the same thing: to return to New York, triumphant. I had high hopes when I arrived in Florida a few days ago, making my way to Diamond Bay and finding this tiny, too-stuffy place to rent, but I half-expected Jack to kick me to the curb before I could get a word out. Especially after he had to rescue me from the lagoon.
I snort against my pillow. That’s the second time he’s been on top of me, all stern and scolding. If it happens a third time... well, I won’t protest too much.
The loud ring of my phone jolts me upright. I fumble for it. Julia’s name flashes across the screen. I breathe a sigh of relief that it’s her and not Mom or Dad.
“Hi, Jules.”
“That’s all I get after days of radio silence? Hi, Jules?”
“What? Obviously, I’m not dead.”
“Thank god for that.” It sounds like she’s shuffling some papers around. “How are you?”
“Are you still at the office?”
“Yeah, we’ve been slammed. Dad is looking into a few properties on the west coast.”
It’s no surprise that she’s working this late into the night. I don’t understand it, but Julia actuallylikescontracts and negotiations. She does a happy dance whenever she closes a deal.
I cover a yawn with my hand. Even the thought of contract language is boring. “I’m fine. I got an apartment.”
