Page 50 of Neap & Spring

The version I used to see.

And now Roman gets to work with her every day while I’ve been the one avoiding her. I’m the one who’s been keeping my distance and making everything harder than it needs to be.

I’m the one who’s been too hurt and too stubborn to see what’s right in front of me.

She’s there every day and she really is trying, despite everything. She cares about my restaurant, and my staff, and the fucking herb order.

And I’ve been too busy nursing old wounds to notice.

“And she looks tired,” Roman continues, leaning against the side of the boat, oblivious to my spiraling. “Like, really tired. I don’t think she’s sleeping much.”

Join the club. I’ve been averaging about four hours a night, and I’m pretty sure two of those are just me lying there staring at the ceiling being angry about things I can’t change, so.

“How would you know?” I reel my line in and check the bait. It’s been nibbled, so I replace it with a fresh piece of herring, the fishy smell clinging to my fingers.

He shrugs. “I notice things other people don’t. It’s a gift, really.”

“Yeah, it’s called being nosy.” Wesley’s line tugs hard. He braces himself and starts reeling. “I got something.”

We both watch as he brings in a rockfish. It’s a decent size, flashing silver in the early morning light. He unhooks it efficiently and drops it in the cooler with ice.

“Nice,” Roman says.

Wesley rinses his hands in the bucket of seawater he keeps on deck, then baits his hook again.

“Anyway, like I said, she’s trying,” Roman says, picking up his rod. “Whatever happened between you two, Cal, she’s not phoning this in. She’s working her ass off.”

I know that. I’ve seen it too. I’ve watched her corner Frannie to ask about reservations. I’ve watched her chat with customers, asking what brought them in and taking notes on what they loved and what could be better. She’s analyzing every aspect of the restaurant with the kind of focus that used to drive me crazy in culinary school because it meant I had to work twice as hard to keep up with her.

“And,” Roman adds, reeling his line slowly in, “she looks at you all the time.”

I go very still, my heart suddenly doing backflips against my sternum. I turn that over in my head, trying to find the angle where it doesn’t mean anything. So what if she looks at me? It’s my restaurant. Everyone looks at me. That’s just — that’s just how kitchens work. People look at the chef. It means nothing.

“What?”

“She looks at you.” He’s focused on his line, retying the knot, not even aware of the grenade he just threw at me. “Like, constantly. When you’re in the kitchen, or plating, or talking to staff. Sometimes when you’re literally just standing there, it looks like she’s drooling. She watches you with little hearts in her eyes.” He glances up at me. “You probably don’t notice because you’re actively avoiding looking at her.”

“I am not.”

Maybe I am. Probably I am. Almost definitely I am. I’ve been running a very deliberate perimeter around that corner table for weeks, and I know exactly where she is at every moment of every day without once looking directly at her, which, now that I think about it, is actually a lot of effort for someone I’m supposedly not avoiding.

“You are.” Roman casts his line again, the movement clumsy. “You’ve been doing that thing where you pretend someone doesn’t exist. You did it to me when you first hired me because I made a suggestion about the organization of the walk-in, remember?”

“No, I don’t remember that. Also, I’m not pretending she doesn’t exist. I’m giving her space.”

“By acting like she’s invisible?”

“By not forcing her into conversations she clearly doesn’t want to have!”

My voice comes out loud against the empty ocean, echoing across the water. A gull screams in response.

Roman and Wesley both look at me.

I take a breath. Then another. The cold air burns my lungs, but it doesn’t help.

“Sorry,” I mutter, turning back to my line.

“Don’t be sorry,” Wesley says. He’s moved closer, leaning against the railing next to me. “Just talk to us. What’s really going on?”