Four Letter Word
Page 7
I sat up in a jerk, my eyes searching the room for someone.
Someone. That was almost laughable.
I should be used to waking up alone at this point, but somehow this morning felt …different.
Permanent.
Irrefutable.
I used to be a morning person. A life person. Today, not so much.
* * *
“Hellooo?”
Tori waved her hand in my face as we drove down the long stretch of road that runs parallel with the shore.
I dragged my gaze off the dash.
“Huh? What’s up?”
She chuckled softly, peering out the windshield.
“You were spacing out over there. We’re almost at the restaurant. It’s just up here on the right.”
I flipped the visor down and checked my appearance in the mirror.
I fingered the ends of my long, bottle-dyed blond hair, then smeared on a quick application of lip gloss.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” I replied through a rushed exhale. My stomach felt coiled into a rigid knot. I shifted in my seat, shrugging. “Just new job jitters, I guess. I hope he hires me.”
Tori laughed again as I leaned back in the seat and tucked my lip gloss into the front pocket of my jeans.
“What?” I asked, turning to look at her as the car slowed down.
Her profile was devilish, lifted in amusement, matching her signature ruby lip she always wore no matter if she was going out or cleaning the house.
Tori always wore red lipstick. And she rocked it.
“Nate isn’t an idiot. He knows what he’s doing. You’re in.”
I thought about how strange that sounded, then decided to shift the attention off me and onto the one person I knew had to be hurting as badly as I was.
“How are you today?”
Tori didn’t miss a beat. She also made me reevaluate my assumption that we were both in the same sinking boat.
“Getting better by the second,” she replied, adjusting the volume on the stereo, wiggling her ass in her seat and smacking the steering wheel along to the beat of the Calvin Harris song pumping through the speakers.
She smiled at me before elaborating.
“My best girl is here, it’s going to be a gorgeous day, by the looks of it, and I devoted all of my prayers last night to the hopes of Wes contracting a delightfully new STD and having that shit named after him. Hopefully soon, people will start getting diagnosed with ‘the Wes.’ Symptoms include swelling of the genitals, painful urination, and a wicked rash.” She lifted her eyebrows, crystal blue eyes sparkling. “It’s fatal.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
She pulled into a large lot surrounding a restaurant and parked along the side.
Whitecaps was a waterfront establishment, very beach chic, if there was such a thing. Colorful long boards were propped along the outer perimeter, with a few stuck into the sand on either side of the staircase. Boating oars framed the entrance of the restaurant, and the railing wrapping around the building was made up of a thick rope, the kind you would use to secure your boat to a pier.
I liked it instantly. It was such a contrast to the beige walls and dark environment of a radiology department.
“Let’s get you a job.”
I’d barely exited the car before Tori was grabbing my hand and dragging me up the stairs and through the doors.
My eyes blinked rapidly at my new surroundings.
The atmosphere inside was as energetic and refreshing as the exterior of the building.
Bold, vibrant color scheme, with lots of oranges, yellows, and bright blues. Surfboards and nautical knickknacks hanging on the walls.
I didn’t like it.
I loved it.
Flo Rida poured softly through the overhead speakers as I was pulled through the restaurant toward the back of the room.
Tori waved to a few servers, then halted at a door with the word “Manager” written in white.
She knocked twice. A muted voice beckoned for her to enter.
“Nate, hey, are you busy?” Tori asked, swinging the door open and tugging me to follow.
The man behind the desk lifted his head.
He was a young guy, couldn’t have been more than thirty, and really, really good-looking, with dark, short-styled hair and a muscular build, rough, sexy stubble marking his jaw, and eyes the color of a rich chocolate. His tie was loosened at the collar, and his thick shoulders pulled the material of his dress shirt taut across his body, highlighting his pecs.
He glanced briefly at me, then looked at Tori, pulled his dark-rimmed glasses off, and set them on top of a pile of papers.
“I’m always busy. What’s up?”
“This”—Tori pulled me close beside her, still holding my hand—“is my best friend, Sydney. She just moved here and needs a job. Give her one.”
I gasped at my best friend’s bluntness.
Nate leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.
Shit.
“Please give her a job, is what you meant to say, right? Because I am your boss, not your friend, Tori. You seem to forget that every other time I see you.”
“Didn’t I say please?”
“No,” he answered dryly.
I was suddenly panicked.
Good-bye, nice job with fantastic music and a chill environment.
Tori waved her free hand nonchalantly in the air.
“My bad. Please, can you give her a job? She’s amazing, and you know she’ll be very popular with the locals.”
Nate trained his eyes on me, studied me briefly, then asked, “You have waitress experience?”
I nodded, reclaiming my hand and stepping forward.
“It’s been a few years. I waitressed through high school and a little in college. But before you hire me, I have to tell you, this isn’t permanent. I’ll be actively looking for a radiology position while I …if I work here. I promise to give you two weeks’ notice, but it could be soon that I’ll end up leaving.”
“Radiology?”
“Yes, sir. I’m certified in x-ray.”
“Do you know how overly qualified you probably are for this?”
I smiled uncertainly, readying my knees to beg.
The carpet appeared soft. I might get away with little to no rug burn.
Nate cleared his throat, leaning farther back in his chair.
“So I could hire you today and you could quit on me this weekend if you found something else? That’s what you’re telling me, right?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly.
“Do you have any idea how much hassle that’ll be for me? The amount of paperwork and double coverage for training I’ll set up, all for nothing? And when you do end up quitting, I’ll have to scramble to get your shifts covered. That’s not easy. Why should I even hire you?”
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, scrambling for a response.
Shit!
He was definitely leaning toward blowing me off. As he should. This was ridiculous. I could find a job tomorrow and not even get the opportunity to pick up a shift here.
I briefly glanced in Tori’s direction, only to see how little invested she was in this discussion.
She was busy admiring the collection of sailboats lined along the bookshelf on the other side of the room, humming softly to herself.
Scowling, I turned back to Nate in time to catch the impatient tilt of his head.
Someone. That was almost laughable.
I should be used to waking up alone at this point, but somehow this morning felt …different.
Permanent.
Irrefutable.
I used to be a morning person. A life person. Today, not so much.
* * *
“Hellooo?”
Tori waved her hand in my face as we drove down the long stretch of road that runs parallel with the shore.
I dragged my gaze off the dash.
“Huh? What’s up?”
She chuckled softly, peering out the windshield.
“You were spacing out over there. We’re almost at the restaurant. It’s just up here on the right.”
I flipped the visor down and checked my appearance in the mirror.
I fingered the ends of my long, bottle-dyed blond hair, then smeared on a quick application of lip gloss.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” I replied through a rushed exhale. My stomach felt coiled into a rigid knot. I shifted in my seat, shrugging. “Just new job jitters, I guess. I hope he hires me.”
Tori laughed again as I leaned back in the seat and tucked my lip gloss into the front pocket of my jeans.
“What?” I asked, turning to look at her as the car slowed down.
Her profile was devilish, lifted in amusement, matching her signature ruby lip she always wore no matter if she was going out or cleaning the house.
Tori always wore red lipstick. And she rocked it.
“Nate isn’t an idiot. He knows what he’s doing. You’re in.”
I thought about how strange that sounded, then decided to shift the attention off me and onto the one person I knew had to be hurting as badly as I was.
“How are you today?”
Tori didn’t miss a beat. She also made me reevaluate my assumption that we were both in the same sinking boat.
“Getting better by the second,” she replied, adjusting the volume on the stereo, wiggling her ass in her seat and smacking the steering wheel along to the beat of the Calvin Harris song pumping through the speakers.
She smiled at me before elaborating.
“My best girl is here, it’s going to be a gorgeous day, by the looks of it, and I devoted all of my prayers last night to the hopes of Wes contracting a delightfully new STD and having that shit named after him. Hopefully soon, people will start getting diagnosed with ‘the Wes.’ Symptoms include swelling of the genitals, painful urination, and a wicked rash.” She lifted her eyebrows, crystal blue eyes sparkling. “It’s fatal.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
She pulled into a large lot surrounding a restaurant and parked along the side.
Whitecaps was a waterfront establishment, very beach chic, if there was such a thing. Colorful long boards were propped along the outer perimeter, with a few stuck into the sand on either side of the staircase. Boating oars framed the entrance of the restaurant, and the railing wrapping around the building was made up of a thick rope, the kind you would use to secure your boat to a pier.
I liked it instantly. It was such a contrast to the beige walls and dark environment of a radiology department.
“Let’s get you a job.”
I’d barely exited the car before Tori was grabbing my hand and dragging me up the stairs and through the doors.
My eyes blinked rapidly at my new surroundings.
The atmosphere inside was as energetic and refreshing as the exterior of the building.
Bold, vibrant color scheme, with lots of oranges, yellows, and bright blues. Surfboards and nautical knickknacks hanging on the walls.
I didn’t like it.
I loved it.
Flo Rida poured softly through the overhead speakers as I was pulled through the restaurant toward the back of the room.
Tori waved to a few servers, then halted at a door with the word “Manager” written in white.
She knocked twice. A muted voice beckoned for her to enter.
“Nate, hey, are you busy?” Tori asked, swinging the door open and tugging me to follow.
The man behind the desk lifted his head.
He was a young guy, couldn’t have been more than thirty, and really, really good-looking, with dark, short-styled hair and a muscular build, rough, sexy stubble marking his jaw, and eyes the color of a rich chocolate. His tie was loosened at the collar, and his thick shoulders pulled the material of his dress shirt taut across his body, highlighting his pecs.
He glanced briefly at me, then looked at Tori, pulled his dark-rimmed glasses off, and set them on top of a pile of papers.
“I’m always busy. What’s up?”
“This”—Tori pulled me close beside her, still holding my hand—“is my best friend, Sydney. She just moved here and needs a job. Give her one.”
I gasped at my best friend’s bluntness.
Nate leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.
Shit.
“Please give her a job, is what you meant to say, right? Because I am your boss, not your friend, Tori. You seem to forget that every other time I see you.”
“Didn’t I say please?”
“No,” he answered dryly.
I was suddenly panicked.
Good-bye, nice job with fantastic music and a chill environment.
Tori waved her free hand nonchalantly in the air.
“My bad. Please, can you give her a job? She’s amazing, and you know she’ll be very popular with the locals.”
Nate trained his eyes on me, studied me briefly, then asked, “You have waitress experience?”
I nodded, reclaiming my hand and stepping forward.
“It’s been a few years. I waitressed through high school and a little in college. But before you hire me, I have to tell you, this isn’t permanent. I’ll be actively looking for a radiology position while I …if I work here. I promise to give you two weeks’ notice, but it could be soon that I’ll end up leaving.”
“Radiology?”
“Yes, sir. I’m certified in x-ray.”
“Do you know how overly qualified you probably are for this?”
I smiled uncertainly, readying my knees to beg.
The carpet appeared soft. I might get away with little to no rug burn.
Nate cleared his throat, leaning farther back in his chair.
“So I could hire you today and you could quit on me this weekend if you found something else? That’s what you’re telling me, right?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly.
“Do you have any idea how much hassle that’ll be for me? The amount of paperwork and double coverage for training I’ll set up, all for nothing? And when you do end up quitting, I’ll have to scramble to get your shifts covered. That’s not easy. Why should I even hire you?”
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, scrambling for a response.
Shit!
He was definitely leaning toward blowing me off. As he should. This was ridiculous. I could find a job tomorrow and not even get the opportunity to pick up a shift here.
I briefly glanced in Tori’s direction, only to see how little invested she was in this discussion.
She was busy admiring the collection of sailboats lined along the bookshelf on the other side of the room, humming softly to herself.
Scowling, I turned back to Nate in time to catch the impatient tilt of his head.
