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I sighed. But God, it had felt good when I believed things between us might actually go somewhere.
I shook my head, got up, and took off my apron. I was going to go home, watch a movie until I fell asleep, and come back tomorrow. I was going to enjoy my new career because it was exactly what I’d always wanted. And I was going to stop wondering “what if.” There was no “what if.” There was only what was, and Greyson was an asshole who I needed to purge from my heart as soon as possible.
38
HARPER
Lin and Farrah sat at the prep table in the back of the restaurant with me. We had all eaten a little too much, but it was hard not to. The ingredients I was able to source from around Fairhope were all natural and top quality. With the help of Lin and Farrah over the last couple weeks, I’d been able to introduce more complexity to my menu. It was only getting better, and I felt like I was ready to burst with pride.
I got compliments everywhere I went in town. Almost all the locals had already made a point of trying to get reservations whenever they could, and I was quickly becoming seen around town as less of a little girl and more of a woman who had something valuable to offer.
“Smile,” Lin said. “You’re kicking ass, girl. Stop looking so moody about it.”
I smiled. “I am happy. I’m just tired.”
“Mhm,” Farrah said. “Maybe you’ll feel better next week when he leaves.”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I believed that at all. Greyson leaving felt like some ticking time bomb. It would be the point when I’d find out if I had been fooling myself into thinking I could handle letting this end–if my anger was enough to overwrite all the good things we’d shared.
“Oh my God,” Farrah said. She was looking toward the front door. Three men and a woman had just entered, and I recognized one of them immediately.
“Is that Kenny Mathers?”
Lin went stiff as a board. Kenny and his band were talking to Greyson at the front desk.
Kenny was the prototypical dark haired bad boy with tattoos and a reputation for breaking hearts. He’d basically shot out of Fairhope like a rocket after dropping out of high school his senior year. He took Tristan Meadows, his drummer with him. They shuffled through band members after that and within a year they were a rapidly growing underground band. Another year later and they were doing appearances on talk shows and being played on the radio. Now they toured globally and were glorified celebrities.
Kenny wandered off when a fifth woman came in who looked like some kind of assistant. She passed a card to Greyson and said a few things we couldn’t hear.
“Is he checking in?” Farrah asked.
“Looks like it,” I said.
“No,” Lin said.
I grinned. “I don’t think you get to decide if he checks in or not, Lin.”
“Why here, though?”
“Probably to try our delicious food?” I guessed.
Lin covered her face with her hands. “No. I’m not cooking for him.”
“You know there’s this thing called moving on,” Farrah said.
“There’s this other thing called spitefully hanging onto your hatred until your dying breath,” Lin said offhandedly.
We both smirked. Greyson led Kenny and the band upstairs. I watched them go and thought about what Lin had said. Was that what I was going to do? Was I just going to cling to my hatred of Greyson until I died? Would it dim over time, or would it linger like some kind of infection I’d always carry? But what was the alternative? It wasn’t like I had anything to apologize for. Was I supposed to demand he apologize to me? Again?
No. Greyson made it clear. He didn’t want this to happen, and he’d done more damage than he could undo. It didn’t matter how many sparks flew when we were together. It didn’t even matter that I seriously missed his kids already. I did get to see them on the weekends around the inn, but I knew that was going to come to an end very quickly.
It all just made me want to scream. What a freaking mess.
Lin and Farrah left for the night. I was heading out the door when I nearly bumped into Greyson. He was coming in from outside with towels.
“Have an accident?” I asked. It was more conversation than I’d made with him in a week, and I mentally kicked myself for even asking.
He paused, looking down at the towels and then up at me. I remembered when his eyes held fire for me. All I felt now was… something colder. “The toilet in 13 overflowed.”
I hitched my purse on my shoulder, trying to will myself to just walk across the street to my apartment and not say another word. I made it one step, then paused. “I bet you didn’t imagine the recipe for success here was going to include toilet cleanup.”
