She snorts. My chest warms. She reminds me a little of Julia, and I like that. “Yes and no. He was always very particular.”
“We’ve been cleaning up the restaurant the past few days, and I never knew there were so many wrong ways to scrub something.”
“Good to know he hasn’t changed.” She smiles mischievously as she takes out a pen light, peering into Gator’s mouth and ears. He tries to bat the light away, evidently offended by the way she’s checking out his teeth. “I know, baby. Almost done. How are you liking Florida so far?”
“I can’t believe how hot it is.” I wrinkle my nose. “And I wasn’t expecting the lizards.”
“Aren’t they fun?”
“Debatable. This one here”—I gesture to Gator—“thinks they make great snacks.”
“You didn’t come during Season, let me tell you that.”
“Season?”
“It’s when the snowbirds and tourists roll into town. You know, all the retirees and folks with second homes. I think Jack wants to reopen in early November, right? Right at the start of when it gets busy.”
“Yeah. If we can manage to pull everything together in time.”
November feels like it’s both ages away and crushingly close. Jack didn’t outright say it when we spoke about it, but beating Green Street’s December opening is probably a big factor for him. I have to figure out a way to get him to actually communicate this sort of thing to me.
As Kiara continues Gator’s exam, another thought occurs to me. “Wait, so did you go to high school with him? Oh my god, did you date?”
“What? No. Never. He’s two years older than me,” she says. “We overlapped in high school, and—well, he was around a lot, once he started working at the restaurant. We were friends. He left right after high school for culinary school in New York, though.”
“I’m glad he had some human contact. I was starting to think he was raised by alligators.”
A bit of an odd look crosses her face. “Will you help hold him still while I do a blood draw?” she asks, gesturing to Gator. “I can check for a microchip, too, but I doubt he has one. He looks like he’s been on his own for a while.”
I get Gator into position, ignoring the baleful look he gives me. “It’s for your own good, little man.” To Kiara, I add, “If he doesn’t have a microchip, I’ll adopt him.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I give him a scratch under the chin. His eyes slide shut, whiskers twitching. “See? He loves me already. Don’t you, Alligator?”
Chapter 13
Salsa Verde
Jack
“Jack?”
“Come down, it’s open.” I step away from the stove, where ground beef is browning along with peppers, onions, and spices, and wipe my hands on a dishcloth. Kiara walks down the stairs to the houseboat cabin, most of her covered by a bulging cardboard box. “What’s that?”
“Ooh, it smells good in here.” Before I can take the box from her, she sets it down, then wraps me in a hug. “It’s stuff I found at the house. Thought you might want to look at it.”
I eye the box warily. “What kind of stuff?”
“Old restaurant records, I think. Some recipes.” She steps away, peering at the pan on the stove. “What are you making?”
“Tacos.” I poke at the beef with a spatula. “Don’t get too excited, I just wandered around Publix until I found some things that looked good.”
“I’m sure it’s going to be delicious. Thanks for inviting me over.”
“I do have something to ask you,” I admit.
She roots around in the fridge, pulling out a soda. “Oh, yeah?”
