AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She runs a hand through her wet hair, wraps the towel around her body, and returns to the motel. Without a word, or a backward glance. I curse, digging into my pocket for a second cigarette that I’m going to need now even more than the first. I slide it between my lips and spark it, watching her trek up the stairs to the room on the corner. She’s staying at the Sunrise. I take a drag, the moment already replaying in my mind. If she’s staying there, she’s not local.
Ryan’s laugh echoes through the night as he walks back out the door, his footsteps heavy and loud on the woodenfloorboards of the deck. “Hey man, I think we’re done. You want to come out with us? We’re going to Marleigh’s.”
Normally I would agree without hesitation, and head down to the local dive with everyone else. But something stops me, and I shake my head. “Not tonight.”
“You sure? I owe you a beer for helping me finish the dish pit tonight,” he offers.
“Raincheck,” I reply, and he nods, following Katrina toward the employee parking lot.
I wander down the deck and onto the catwalk, following the path as it splits to the marina. The boats rock gently in their slips, metal hardware clanging against railings and masts in a chorus as natural to me as the sound of the sea itself. I take the third lane down to the end, and follow the narrow footpath out to the back of the houseboat, stepping aboard. It’s nearly thirty years old, but solid. It’s been a slow renovation for the past two years, but it’s beginning to near something I could be proud of. I fall back into one of the chairs on the deck, and tug off my boots, leaning back to prop my feet on the transom. My gaze finds the window of her room. Her light is on, and I can see her shadowed silhouette inside for a moment before it goes dark.
The ghost of her remains in my mind, and I can’t look away. I need a distraction. Desperately. I should go pick up a wrench and fix something. Paint something. Obsess about something I can actually put my hands on. I should be exhausted, but now I can’t stop thinking about the girl with the purple hair that I only shared a handful of words with, and don’t know at all.
Chapter 6
Ivy
This moment has trashy daytime talk show written all over it. Question: What do you wear to interview for your dead sister’s job four days after her disappearance? Answer: Shame and guilt. That’s what.
Apparently, that takes the form of bondage shorts and combat boots. I only packed three outfits. I mean, it’s not like I actually want them to give me a job.
A sigh escapes me. This is a lot. But I can’t let it go, because letting it go is letting her go. And I won’t do that.
I waltz out the door of my room and down the stairs, following the connecting catwalk over to the Sandbar. As I walk through the employee break area on the side deck, my mind wanders back to last night. The smug set of Zaden’s shoulders as he leaned against the column, his eyes locked on me, like I was dinner and a movie. My skin heats just thinking about it.
Okay, maybe I didn’t hate it. Maybe I saw him on the deckthe moment I walked outside. And maybe I needed a cheap thrill to feel alive.
The restaurant doesn’t open for another two hours, but the double doors are already unlocked as I walk inside. Workers move around the building cleaning, restocking, and preparing for the opening. I spot Giana carrying bottles of wine to Nick behind the bar, and nod at Nick. He smiles.
“Hang out a minute, Evan’s almost done,” he says, sliding the bottles of wine into their spot along the lit wall. I amble toward the bar, taking my time. The walls are covered in beach decor, black and white pictures of fishing boats, mounted saltwater fish, and dollar bills signed by customers and stapled in place. I catch names and dates, noting that they go back at least twenty years. The walls are more than decor, they’re a timeline. History. Several potted plants sit along the windowsill of the large picture window in the back, letting in the light reflecting off the water just beyond the beach and bathing the dining room in orange.
The double doors for the kitchen swing open, and I study the man who walks out, clipboard in hand. He has short-cropped blonde hair and a muscular build. He’s the only one in a button-up shirt, but it’s a size too small, the buttons pulling across his chest. He calls over to several of the workers in the dining room, and they move to follow his request. I take a calming breath. That has to be him.
“Evan,” Nick shouts, pointing at me. “Interview.”
Evan looks frustrated, his attention returning to his clipboard before finally glancing over at me. Then he pauses, studying me. His posture loosens, and I can sense a change in him as he tucks his pencil behind his ear and walks my way.
“Hey, sorry. Busy morning. I’m Evan. You are?”
“Ivy,” I tell him, chasing this lie.
“Ivy, alright. Come sit down with me.” He walks over to one of the high-top tables by the wall and sits. I pull up the chair across from him. “Have you filled out an application?”
Fuck. “I lost it.”
He shrugs dismissively. “That’s okay. I haven’t even listed this position yet, so you’re the only applicant. It must be your lucky day.”
I ball my hands into fists beneath the table, my nails biting into my palms. “Yeah, lucky.” I can feel my anger starting to build, but I swallow it. Screaming at him won’t get me any answers.
He asks me briefly about my experience, and I make a bunch of shit up. We’re on that road now, why stop? He nods approvingly. It’s not all lies, though. I’ve worked in restaurants before, and this is nothing new. I just changed all the details.
“So, where are you from, Ivy?”
“Nebraska,” I answer, not missing a beat.
“What makes you want to move to Florida?”
“New place, new people. New possibilities.” This ismyfucking mantra now. Ivy owns this like Paige once did.
