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He nodded, smiling faintly. “I just want Gramps to have it easy from here out. With the money coming in, he’ll be able to hire help for this kind of thing. Actually,” Greyson said, seeming to shift into business mode and forget he was supposed to be cold to me. “I have a girl coming by tomorrow to interview for the position. She’d be sort of a manager around here. I guess it would make sense if you gave her a look over, since you’ll be dealing with her a lot longer than I will. You two will have to get along, I mean.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Send her by.”
“Alright.” Greyson ran his tongue across his lips. I sensed that he wanted to say something again, and I stood and waited for several long silent heartbeats. But he gave the towels a little lift, nodded, and headed back inside.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself. What was it I kept hoping he’d say, anyway? Sorry? Because we were pretty damn far beyond “sorry.” Weren’t we?
39
HARPER
I was cutting onions when the new hire showed up. She looked about my age, maybe even a little younger. I didn’t recognize her, either, which meant she wasn’t from town. She was gorgeous, and if she was a local, I would’ve absolutely known who she was.
She had long curly blonde hair done up in ringlets and she was wearing a cute polka dot dress that came to mid-thigh.
I was watching her talk to Greyson when I nearly took my finger off with the knife. I set it down, took a few calming breaths, and looked back at them. She was laughing about something, and he was keeping a straight face. I still felt myself get a little stabby.
Apparently, Greyson had no problem fucking younger women. This girl looked like the picture of innocence, but something about the way she was twirling her hair and tilting her head at him as she listened made my blood boil.
No. Calm down, Harper. He’s leaving, anyway. So what if he finds some new hot young thing to screw around with in his last couple weeks?
I jumped and did a small scream when Farrah tapped me on the shoulder. She was just showing up and hadn’t put her apron on. She saw the look on my face, then followed my gaze to the new girl and gave me a knowing look. “Jealous?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “He can fuck whoever he wants.”
“Hmm,” Farrah said. “He can, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to be pissed if he does it right in front of you.”
I picked the knife up again and started cutting. I didn’t really enjoy that she was right. And what the hell did it mean that I was still getting jealous? I wanted to believe I’d shut the door on Greyson Ashford, but how much could the door be shut if I was still getting ready to go choke out a bitch just for smiling at him?
“I think it might be healthy if you two had one last conversation before he goes,” Farrah said. “To give you both some closure. It’s not normal. The way you two are so tense around each other. It’s like a bomb is always about to go off when you’re in the same room.”
“He’s welcome to come talk to me if he wants to,” I said simply. “I’m not the one who was an asshole. It’s not my job to apologize or try to handhold him into doing the right thing. Besides,” I said, chopping even faster until my knife was practically a blur. “I’m pretty sure things went exactly how he wanted them to. He wanted to make sure things were broken off before he went home, and they feel pretty damn broken off to me.”
Farrah pursed her lips and rolled them to the side. “Yes, they do.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped.
She grinned. “Relax. Or at least put the knife down. I’m getting worried that girl is about to end up on the floor in a pool of blood.”
I set the knife down. As if on cue, the girl popped up at the counter. She was smiling brightly and looked every bit like the prom queen prototype from some busy suburb town.
No stabbing, brain. I deliberately tucked my hands in my apron and took a step away from the knife.
“Hi, I’m Gabby.”
I smiled. “I’m Harper. This is Farrah, she helps out in the kitchen and also jumps out to run food and take orders. Lin should be coming in a few minutes, but she pretty much does the same.”
“He seems really nice,” she said, nodding toward Greyson. Kenny Mathers had come downstairs with his assistant, and they were talking to Greyson about something–complaining, judging by his body language.
I forced a smile. “Mhm. Yep.”
