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“I vote you make an exception for Jonesy,” she says, hopping up.“Welp.Objectification break’s over.Back to work for me.”She rolls her shoulders like she’s about to step into a boxing ring.“Cool that Jonsey’s as adorable as you remember.Lemme know if you want to head back to the club this weekend to see if Santa’s as sexy on a second viewing too.”
“I’m not in Beaucoeur to become a VIP at the Crimson Lounge!”I call as she disappears down the hall toward her office.Her answering laugh is audible as the door clicks shut behind her.
I’m frowning at a government form the next morning when the smell of coffee wafts toward my nose.
“Here.”
I glance up to see Jonesy standing in front of me with half-lidded eyes and a mug he thrusts into my hand.
“Ohhhh, thank you,” I croon as I take it and drain half in one long, scalding gulp.“I forgot how early six a.m.actually is.You just saved my life.”
“That’s what I do.”He leans against the wall, and his eyes drift shut.
We have an hour before Verdant opens for my first shift as hostess, and I’m filling out employment paperwork in Darryl’s office, which seems to double as a storage room for excess dry goods, from what I can tell.“Are you here to offload the sum total of your knowledge onto me?”
“Yep,” he says through a yawn.“Verdant doesn’t take reservations, no matter how much people beg.We close at three every afternoon, and we stop seating people ten minutes before that.Umm… everyone avoids Rob the busboy because he’s an absolute creep, and you should stretch before attempting a backflip.”
When he stops talking, I cock my head.“That’s it?”
“Wait, always double down on eleven in blackjack.”He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling like he’s searching his brain for any hidden facts.“Yep, that’s it.The sum total of my knowledge.”
I scrawl my signature on the bottom of the final page in front of me and toss the pen back on the desk.“That actually took more time than I expected.”
He laughs at my shit-giving.“It’s humbling to meet somebody who gets me immediately.”He yawns again and gives his cheeks a quick series of slaps, clearly still trying to wake himself up.“C’mon.I’ll introduce you to the head chef.He’s also a co-owner, and he’s chipper until the first guest walks through the door.Then it’s downhill from there.”
Head chef and co-owner Samson turns out to be a lot of things.Intense.High energy.Covered in tattoos.But chipper?
“What, Jonesy?”he snaps when my tour guide escorts me through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
“Meet Liv.She’s filling in for Brita this month.”
Samson grunts but doesn’t look up from where he’s dicing onions.
“You’re gonna want to watch out for this one,” Jonesy continues cheerfully.“She’s wanted in Canada for reasons she hasn’t fully disclosed to me.”
“Um no,” I say.“I’mnotwanted in Canada, remember?”
It’s unbelievable that I’m in a joking place about the whole arrest and deportation situation, but for some reason, Jonesy teasing me about it makes the whole thing less humiliating.A side effect of that sparkling, charming,you know you want to kiss me all overgrin, maybe.
My disclosure gets Samson to flick his gaze up to me.“Does this mean you know people who can smuggle out the good stuff for me?”
“Oh, definitely.I’ve got a guy,” I say.“But only if you’re talking about maple syrup.”
The scary-ass head chef snorts.“Sure.”He glances at Jonesy.“She’s allowed to help with inventory.Now leave.”
Once we’re out of earshot, I whisper, “That was chipper?”
“That was him at his most sunshiney.”Jonesy steers me toward the hostess stand at the front of house.“So the good news is that he likes you.Samson doesn’t trust just anybody with inventory.”
I feel like I’ve won some sort of booby-trapped prize.“What’s the bad news?”
“You’re going to join me in PTSD-land when we miscount the forks and he reprimands us.”
“Reprimands?”
“Screams at.”He gives a comical wince, but all I can think is how fun it’ll be to count silverware with him even if it ends in shouting.
“Put me in, coach.”I give a little salute and immediately regret making such a dumb gesture.But Jonesy smiles as his eyes drift to the neckline of my wrap dress.
