My dad had been trying to get a hold of me for the last couple of days, too.
I’d sent him a short text to say I was busy, I had things to do, and if he needed someone to help out with Brad, maybe Linda could do it. Precious Linda. Stupid Linda. Making-herself-at-home-in-my-kitchen Linda.
Lee knew something was up. He knew me too well.
Weirdly, the only person I felt like talking to about Linda was Amanda. She hadn’t been judgmental when I’d told her about Linda originally and it somehow seemed less scary to tell her than to talk to Lee or Noah about it. (Not that Noah and I were exactlytalkingright now anyway…)
So without wanting to hurt Lee’s feelings by explaining that the tension between me and Noah was because of him and the bucket list, and without going into the whole Linda thing, I just kept shrugging it off and saying, “It’s no big deal. I’m just kind of tired from everything that’s going on. Work’s crazy, you know?”
The last part wasn’t even a lie.
Workwascrazy, today especially. There had been some surfing competition on the beach and we were swamped. There wasn’t even a lull between lunch and dinner the way there usually was.
The douchebags from earlier in the week had shown up, but May was quick to tell them, politely and in no uncertain terms, that they would have to take their business elsewhere. They started to object until one of them spotted me and I gave an enthusiastic wave, holding up a tray of brightly colored virgin cocktails I was taking to table thirty, at which point they gave in and left.
That was about the best part of the day.
I dropped an entire order before I even made it out of the kitchen. I mixed up at least three other orders. I forgot to pick up the check at table twenty-four for so long the dad eventually marched up to me, credit card in hand, and demanded to speak to my manager if he was going to be kept waiting like this. The kids at table thirty-three left it a totalmess—spilled drinks, ketchup all over the table, half a burger smooshed into the seat, and fries floating in half a milkshake.
My pants had ripped at some point. I didn’t even knowwhen,but I did know the right leg was currently torn halfway up my shin, the fabric flapping around even though I’d tucked the ends into my sock. When I took a bathroom break, I realized there was pen on my face. I didn’t even bother trying to rub it off.
I had just finished taking the order from a large family group of twelve and given them what I hoped was a smile, when, as I stepped away, I careered forward. My arms flung out, pulling a plate off one table and half strangling some poor girl at another as I tried to catch myself.
Struggling to stand back up, I found the laces of my shoes tied together. Some snot-nosed kid who couldn’t have been more than four or five at the table I’d just been waiting on was giggling hysterically.
His mother looked mortified, taking turns apologizing profusely to me and scolding her son.
“It’s fine,” I told her, leaning forward to fix my shoelaces. Damn, the kid tied a good knot. Finally fixing them, I trudged back to the bar, clipping the order up for the chef.
A hand landed lightly on my shoulder. “You doing okay there, Elle?”
I looked at May. She had such a concerned look on her face I almost cried. Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
She didn’t look totally convinced, though. “Why don’t you take a break? Kaylie just got here. She can look after your tables for a little bit.”
“B-but—”
“Hey. No arguing with the boss. Take a break. That’s an order, okay?”
I sniffled, giving her the world’s most pathetic smile and trudging outside. I just needed some fresh air, that was all. A couple of minutes to get some fresh air, and I’d be fine. I was just tired. I was just run off my feet.
I was just…
Falling apart.
“Elle?”
I jumped at the sound of my name, a familiar voice—and then jumped again when a car door opened and clipped me on the hip. “Oof!”
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t realize you were that close.” Levi pulled himself out of his car and cracked a smile. “We’ve gotta stop bumping into each other like this.”
The first time we’d met, he’d opened a car door into me. I tried to smile at the joke, I really did, but all I managed was a twitch of the muscles somewhere in my cheek. His face fell.
“What’s up? Wow, you look like a hot mess. Not hot, like,hot.But you’re…Well, that’s…Never mind. You doing okay, Elle?”
I couldn’t talk to Lee without hurting his feelings. Iwasn’ttalking to Noah right now. I couldn’t talk to my dad about Linda without sounding like a brat, and I couldn’t talk to Rachel or Amanda without the very good chance they would go back to Lee or Noah and tell them everything, and then it’d be a big deal because they’dknowwhat I wasn’t talking to them about—and that there was even something going on that I wasn’t talking to them about.
But Levi…
