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“Doesn’t matter how fucked up life gets, rent waits for no man,” Chris explains grudgingly. “Thanks for covering for me, though.”
I nod. “No problem. I’m here if you need me. We all are.”
“I appreciate it. It’s been a lot. Even today, the city is doing a memorial thing at Danny’s. But I just can’t do any more right now. I need to work,” he says, dropping his metal pans into the fry station dividers.
“I get it. Believe me. But if you need a break, call me,” I say, glancing over at Katrina. “Speaking of covering for MIA coworkers. Where’s your brother at? I thought for sure Jax would be back by now.”
Katrina shakes her head. “You know how he gets this time of year. I keep hoping it will get easier, but it really doesn’t.”
Chris makes a sound of agreement from the fry station.
“Have you heard from him at least?” I ask. “He hasn’t reached out to me at all.”
Katrina shakes her head. “His phone goes straight to voicemail. But I know he’s okay. He took off on the bike and left me a note.”
“He needs to be back by Friday, or Evan’s going to can him,”I advise. “He’s already asked several servers if they can bartend.”
“Is your girlfriend one of them?” Katrina asks, and I level her with a glare.
“Girlfriend?” Chris asks, turning around to participate in the conversation. “I’m gone for a week, we have a new stuffed mushroom app, and Zaden has a girlfriend?”
“She’s a server,” Katrina provides. “Ivy. You’ll see her tonight.”
“Oh shit. I thought you were done with server drama after what happened last summer with Nina,” Chris says.
“That’s what I said,” Katrina adds. “The last one left Pelican Beach and broke his heart. This one lives in a motel with her bags packed. Somewhere in there was a learning opportunity.”
“It wasn’t intentional,” I claim. “And she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t know what we are.”
“Is she Evan’s girlfriend?” Katrina asks.
Chris rolls his eyes and turns back to the fry station. “This is why we don’t chase servers anymore.”
“I’m not,” I clarify. “Just this one.”
Katrina shakes her head. “She’s going to break you. I’ll go ahead and say I told you so now because when it’s over, it will be too fucked up for me to say it then.”
“I love your eternal optimism. You’re like a fucking ray of sunshine. You know that?” I reply sarcastically, turning to head back through the swinging doors. I have a few hours before my shift. I can swallow my pride and search for Ivy, or go over to Ava’s.
Muscle memory guides me into the parking lot of Kaos Surf.I need something to occupy my mind and my hands. I step out of the Silverado and shut the door, glancing at the back of my truck where I had her writhing beneath my mouth only a few hours ago. I’ve done some crazy things in my life, but that hit number one on a lot of lists.
The bell above the shop door rings as I walk through, and Aunt Freya looks up from folding a box of shirts to smile.
“You made it,” she says, sliding a shirt off the folding board. “You never answered any of my texts last night, I thought you were blowing us off. Did you bring the wood?”
“What?”
“For the shelves,” she states expectantly, then shakes her head. “Okay, maybe you didn’t read my texts.”
“No,” I admit. “I haven’t read anything. I got in my truck to clear my head and ended up here. But I have a few hours, so put me to work.”
“Are you sure?” She asks. “You look really tired.”
I shake my head. “Long night.”
“I have a pot of coffee made. Come get a cup. You can tell me what you were up to last night, and I’ll tell you all about the new shelves we want built behind the register.”
I grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge under the counter and sit back on a stool. Sunlight streams in through the large windows, filtering through the rows of surfboard displays. Freya has already reorganized several clothing racks near the entrance and set out an area for clearance. The t-shirt wall has been cycled through with new designs, and she added an accessory display.
