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“That man is truly God’s gift to Mud Gulch,” Karla, one of three servers, including me, working the floor, said, her eyes glued to my uncle as she waited for a check to print.
“Not a difficult feat considering the competition,” I said breezily as I passed by. The man didn’t need anyone else, especially his niece, fawning over him. And his name was Romeo to boot. My grandmother must have had some foresight where he was concerned because that would have been a difficult name to manage had he been anyone other than himself. But Granny had had an affinity for Shakespeare and, apparently, believed her second-born son would bear the name of a famous fictional lothario well.
Another burst of squeals went up, confirming that thought.
I wove through the crowded tables with the full tray balanced in one hand, shouldered the door to the kitchen open and deposited the dirty glasses near the dishwasher. “Order up, Rory,” our cook called from where he stood at the grill.
“Thanks, Eli,” I said as I picked up the two plates of food sitting under the warmer. Eli nodded but didn’t look at me, a spatula held in his hand and his gaze focused on the TV mounted to the wall in the corner of the kitchen. “You have one job! Hit the damn ball, you dipshit!” he yelled as I pushed the swinging doors open.
The smack of a bat hitting a ball met my ears as I walked back into the bar. Apparently, the dipshit had indeed managed to do his job.
“A burger, medium, no onion, no tomato, with a side of onion rings, Larry,” I said as I set the food in front of one of our regulars.
“Thanks, Rory.”
I gave him a nod. “And for Kip, fish and chips with extra slaw,” I said, reaching across and handing the other man the loaded plate.
I stopped by my other tables quickly and then made my way to the computer to print up the bills. “You have got to be shittin’ me,” Sherry, the third server, said, her gaze trained somewhere behind me. I turned, my mouth falling open. “No, don’t look,” Sherry said, grabbing my arm and forcibly turning me back to the computer. But it was too late. I’d already seen.
My ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend were sitting at table six. The ex-boyfriend who’d broken up with me to start dating the new chick he was currently sitting with. At my family’s bar. Where I worked.
“What a dick,” Sherry hissed as she started picking up the beer bottles at the end of the bar and setting them on her tray. “How dare he come here?” She turned her head and looked at me. “Do you want me to have him removed?”
The way she said removed made me think she meant from the planet, not just from this establishment. I almost answered in the affirmative, but decided I wasn’t quite angry enough to risk Sherry’s freedom.
“I’ll do it,” she threatened as she turned to go deliver the drinks on her tray.
I managed a tight laugh. “That’s sweet, Sher,” I said to her retreating back. “But he’s not worth it. And an orange state-issued jumpsuit will clash with your hair.”
She made a sound in the back of her throat that either meant she concurred or that she didn’t actually need my permission to remove said ex-boyfriend and risk a lifetime of being orange from head to toe.
The ex—Thaddeus Willoughby III—leaned around Karla who was taking their order and met my eyes. I glanced quickly away but not before I saw that he at least had the grace to look uncomfortable.
What the hell was he doing here anyway? He lived in Claremont Landing, the town over, an upscale locale that featured a well-known golf and country club and had a wealth per capita on the opposite end of the spectrum to Mud Gulch. I’d met him when he’d made a trip to the docks with his buddies for a bachelor party and turned the charm in my direction. I inwardly cringed as I remembered the past. God, he probably hadn’t even extended much effort before I’d practically fallen at his feet. Dating rich pricks with starched collars had only ever ended in disaster for me, and I renewed my vow never to fall victim to a megawatt smile paid for by expensive dental work again.
I delivered the checks, making a concerted effort not to look in the direction of table six again. As I grabbed a couple drinks from the bar, Romeo mouthed, “You okay?” Clearly he’d also seen Thaddeus and the stunning woman he was sitting with.
I nodded, flashing him a smile as if I couldn’t have cared any less that the man I’d been dating less than three weeks before had the absolute gall to bring a date to my workplace. Romeo’s eyes narrowed slightly but he tipped his chin, focusing back on his fan club.
From the corner of my eye, I saw that Thaddeus was no longer sitting at the table and when I turned my head a little more, noted that his date had her face resting on her hand and was gazing dreamily at Romeo across the room. I felt a brief buzz of satisfaction that was immediately swallowed by alarm when someone pulled my arm from around the corner that led to the restrooms and yanked me into the dim hall.
“Rory.”
“Thaddeus.” I pulled my arm loose and took a step back. “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry. I know being here is a low blow. She wanted to come to the docks. I tried to suggest places other than your bar, but she was insistent. She practically dragged me in here. She said she’d always wanted to…”
“Slum it?”
“That’s not how she put it.”
“I’m sure she didn’t.” But that was the gist. And by the color that had started creeping up his neck, I could see he knew it. Country club girl wanted to get up close and personal with the rough-and-tumble crowd down on the docks. And then she’d hightail it right back to greener pastures, all the more worldly for it.
“This is her summer of experiences,” he went on.
I resisted the flinch that threatened to reveal itself. “We aren’t experiences, Thaddeus. We’re people.” I put my hands on my hips. “I suppose that’s what I was to you as well?” I asked. An experience. I held a hand up. Remember your vow, Rory. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t care.”
“Aw, Rory, don’t be like that.” He leaned back slightly, turning his head and risking a quick glance into the bar. When he turned back, he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I leaned away, giving his suspended hand a death glare. “Listen…Rory. There’s no reason we can’t continue to see each other.”
