Charming for Mother's Day (A Calendar Girls Novella) (4 page)

             
“Hold up.” In two long-legged strides, he stood beside me. “I’m coming.”

             
He was? I stifled my surprise beneath a blanket of sarcasm. “Great. Hope you have exact change. Jack doesn’t carry extra cash at this time of night.”

             
“Trust me. It won’t be a problem.”

             
Trust him. Ha. Never again in this lifetime.

             
The bus squealed to a halt, and the accordion doors unfolded. Burly Jack with his round face, white walrus mustache, and disappearing hairline smiled in welcome. “Good morning, Lucie. How was your night?”

             
Before I could give my usual reply, Colin’s hand slid against my back, and I flinched. His soft snicker cut through my surprise, and I realized he enjoyed my reaction. One deep inhale to stabilize myself and I climbed the steps with Colin too close behind me for comfort.

             
“Morning, Jack.” The greeting came out a little shaky, but I plowed on. “How’s the new grandson?”

             
“Fattening up nicely.”

             
“That’s good.” I reached the top step, my crisp dollar in hand, but Colin stopped me before I could insert the bill in the feeder.

             
“Allow me,” he said.

             
I sidestepped out of the way, and Colin thrust his hand toward the bus driver. “Jack. Hi. I’m Colin Murriere, the new owner of the Gull and Oar.”

Jack’s moon face clouded with doubt. “And you’re taking the bus?”

I snorted back a laugh.

“Not by choice.” He pointed out the bus’s windshield. “That’s my car parked over there, near the bike shop. You see, I offered to give Lucie here a ride home. But she’s holding a ten-year-grudge and won’t even talk to me or allow me to apologize. Seems the only way I can keep trying to win her over is to get on the bus with her and talk to her in
public, rather than privately.”

My blood pressure pounded. Oh, he was devious. And I’d stepped right into his crap.

Jack swiveled around his steering wheel to stare at me. “Is that true, Lucie? Are you giving your new boss a hard time?”

I glanced around the bus for reinforcements. Only two other passengers sat in the rows of seats, and I knew them both: Joaquin, a busboy/dishwasher for The Lookout—another five-star restaurant in town, and Nadir, one of the overnight clerks at the local convenience store. Both watched the byplay between us with undisguised interest.

“It’s a long story, Jack,” I finally confessed.

Jack shook his head and sighed. “Go on then.” His lips stretched into a wide grin, and he patted the meter at his side. “Pay your fare and take your seat. As for you, Mr.
Murriere, you can either pony up a dollar, take the ride, and plead your case in front of all of us, or you can step off the bus right now. Lucie’s my responsibility until she gets to her stop, and if she’s not comfortable with you, she won’t go with you. Simple as that.”

I might have gasped my surprise, but when I turned to see Joaquin and Nadir both rise from their seats, prepared to back me up, I lost the ability to make any sound at all. I turned back to Colin, my joy evident. “You should go. This is Jack’s last run of the night. If you stay on the bus, you’ll have to take a cab back to your car, and you know how hard it is to get a cab around here.”

I watched Colin gauge the situation: me with my late night soldiers, him armed with nothing more than a fat wallet and oodles of charm. At last, he shook his head and sighed. “You win. Goodnight, Lucie.”

“Goodnight.” He descended to the sidewalk again.

Once Jack closed the door, I fed my dollar into the meter. “Thanks, guys,” I said to my fellow passengers and the bus driver. “I appreciate the support.”

“
Pffft!” Jack exclaimed. “What’d he think? That because he’s some smooth-talking townie, we’d leave you stranded? We trust your judgment, Lucie. You don’t wanna be alone with some stranger, we’re gonna back you up. Every damn time.”

I took my seat, convinced I floated above the hard plastic. I never thought I’d see the day when the great and powerful Colin
Murriere lost at the art of the deal. At least he did it with grace.

Chapter 3

Ariana

I tried to ask Mom more questions about Chef Colin on Saturday, but all she said was they used to be friends, then they had a fight and didn’t talk anymore until yesterday. She wouldn’t tell me what they fought about or how come she never told me that she used to know him when we watched him on TV. So I asked Grandma when Mom left for work.

             
“
Abuela
? Why doesn’t Mom like Chef Colin?”

             
She looked up from the towels in the laundry basket, a frown on her lips and her forehead all wrinkly. “You’d have to ask your mama.”

             
“I did. She said they had a fight a long time ago.”

             
“So then, there you go.” Grandma picked up another towel and folded it over her arms.

             
No. There I didn’t go. I still didn’t know what happened. “But what did they fight about?”

             
“I don’t know, Ari.” Grandma sighed. “Anyway, it was a long time ago. Before you were even born. Why should it matter?”

             
Because it was a secret. That meant it was special.

Well, if no one else would tell me,
I would have to ask Chef Colin next week. Eventually, I would find out.

Lucinda

             
I wondered how Colin would react toward me in the restaurant on Saturday, but I lucked out. He was too busy in the kitchen when I showed up. By the time he had everything in order for the dinner crowd, the dinner crowd had arrived and overwhelmed me. Apparently, the news that the winner of “All Star Chef” had bought the G & O hit our little hamlet like a tornado.

As a resort town, Snug Harbor offered a lot for tourists to love, including two
different bodies of water with diverse but pristine beaches, sport fishing, scenic vistas, history, and family fun from mini-golf to a marine science museum within walking distance. What Snug Harbor didn’t have was the celebrity cachet of its Hamptons neighbors. So the appearance of a television star was a Big Deal. And the crowds hustling to get in on Saturday night made that fact apparent.

The more obnoxious of the patrons pushed and shoved their way forward, then tried to press twenty dollar bills into my palm, hoping I’d propel them to the top of the waiting list. But each time, I shook my head, declined the tip, and begged their patience while we did our best to accommodate all our diners.

              At eight o’clock, Colin popped out of the kitchen and took a turn around the restaurant, shaking hands, thanking customers for coming, and generally playing mayor of the Gull and Oar. As he neared the front door, he stopped at my station. “How’s it going, Lucie?”

             
Ah. Business as usual. That was the strategy he wanted to employ with me tonight? Okay. I could deal. “Very busy, Chef, as you can see.” A wide sweep of my arm encompassed the impatient throng huddled in the foyer, still waiting to be seated. One of the waiters, Jordan, popped up to say table sixteen was ready, and I checked the list to see who would be the next lucky party of four. I turned to the crowd and called out, “Elliot? Party of four?”

             
Two couples stepped forward and one of the women said, “We’re Elliot.”

             
I pointed to Jordan, who bent to the shelf behind my station to grab four menus. “Your table’s ready. If you’ll follow Jordan…”

Colin, still standing beside me, waited until the foursome walked away before remarking, “Maybe you should have brought your little sous chef tonight.”

              Distracted, I barely paid attention to him. “Who?”

             
“Ariana.”

             
“Oh.” Shoot. He was going to complain about her spending time here. Well, I’d have to head him off before he could issue an ultimatum. “She only meets me here when it’s absolutely necessary.”

             
“Really?” Colin folded his arms over his chest. “I got the impression from Sidney that she was a regular resident in the kitchen.”

             
My cheeks burned. Maybe in the past, but not anymore.

             
“Colin!” A man in the rear of the crowd shot a hand in the air and waved frantically, drawing attention away from my childcare issues.

             
Colin glanced over the sea of heads until he found and recognized the greeter. “Nat! Get up here.”

             
The man pushed his way forward, pulling an expensively dressed woman with him. I recognized him as one of the more insistent tippers from earlier. I’d nicknamed him “bone crusher” because when I turned down his twenty dollar bill, he tried replacing it with a fifty and squeezed his fingers around mine until my knuckles cracked. When I still asked him to wait until we could accommodate him and his party, he grumbled about how I didn’t know who he was and I’d be sorry.

“I told you I knew him,” he retorted as he passed me.

              Not that I’d ever doubted he was acquainted with Colin. In fact, he wore that same self-important attitude I hated in my new boss. I simply hadn’t allowed that acquaintance—or his fifty dollars—to bump him up the reservations list.

             
“Your seating Nazi over there,” he told Colin, jerking his head in my direction, “wouldn’t give me a table. Said I had to wait like everyone else.”

             
Colin laughed and shook his head. “Come on. I’ve got the best seats in the house waiting for you.”

             
An unpleasant murmur rippled through the crowd. Those who’d waited longer than Nat the bone crusher snorted or tossed up their hands or grumbled under their breath. A wave of discontented customers threatened to swamp me with complaints. Unless I could find a way to stem the rising tide.

             
I clutched at Colin’s sleeve and leaned toward him. Once again, the smell of warm skin and lemons teased my nostrils. “Umm…Chef? I already explained to your friend that we have a long line of people waiting—”

             
“Don’t sweat it, Lucie.” He waved me off and disappeared into the back of the restaurant with his pals, leaving me to face the angry mob.

             
“Miss?” A robust man with a florid complexion immediately took the lead. “We’ve been waiting a lot longer than that guy.”

             
I couldn’t exactly lie, and since I didn’t really understand what Colin was thinking, all I could do was patch the damage. “I know,” I said, “and I apologize. To make up for your inconvenience, I’m prepared to offer you and your party a free appetizer.”

             
One dozen free appetizers later, I’d calmed the disgruntled patrons, but my own anger only intensified. I would have loved to stalk into the kitchen, tell Colin off, and quit on the spot—just for the satisfying drama alone. But single moms who were barely scraping by couldn’t afford drama. So I swallowed my resentment, smiled at the crowds, and updated my resume in my head. Again.

             
At least the night hadn’t become a total crapfest. Along with the new faces came several of our Saturday night regulars: Mr. and Mrs. Seifert, fixtures at the G & O for longer than I’d worked in the place; the McDonnells, who came for some peace and quiet whenever they managed to hire a sitter for their twin boys; and a few of our routine “date” couples. All were excited to check out the new menu and waited patiently for their tables.

             
The evening’s drama, though, didn’t end with Colin and the bone crusher. Again and again, I watched one of the newer waitresses, Darlene. In particular, I watched her outrageous flirting with a man obviously on a date with a pretty, petite blonde. As Darlene’s laughter increased in frequency and volume, my heart went out to the blonde, who squirmed and toyed with her salad. I didn’t need a degree in psychology to know the woman sensed the attraction between her date and the waitress. But I couldn’t stifle my surprise when the gentleman asked for the check before they’d even received their entrees.

The reason for the odd request became obvious when
Darlene sashayed over to me once the couple left the restaurant. “I need to leave early,” she said. “Family emergency.”

I didn’t buy her excuse for the time I needed to take a breath. Planting my hands on my hips, I gave her my iciest glare.
“Yeah? The guy who just left is your cousin or something?”

She blinked, but tried to wave off my accusation. “What guy?”

Too bad for Darlene, I’d played enough games for one evening. “If you leave this restaurant before the end of your shift tonight, you’re fired.”