Tear (A Seaside Novel) (25 page)
Read Tear (A Seaside Novel) Online
Authors: Rachel Van Dyken
Demetri called us every day and every day my parents begged Alec to adopt both of them so they would be a part of the family, which I found alarming considering I was dating Alec. The parents who seemed not to care less about kids now had three. And it was awesome.
They weren’t even staying at their own house during Christmas. My parents made up rooms for them, even though Alec was a little irritated that he couldn’t sleep in my bed.
But my dad gave him the look, so he backed off and promised he’d sneak in later.
If anyone would have told me that my boring life would turn into what I was currently watching — two rock stars serenading my family on Christmas — I would have laughed. But I guess that’s what makes life special. It’s unexpected. Scary as hell. But in the end, totally worth it.
Keep reading for a sneak peak of Demetri’s story in
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A Seaside Novel
Add evil.
Malicious.
Manipulative.
And crazy. To all of Nat’s attributes.
Somehow she convinced her old boss that not only would it bring lots of business into Seaside Taffy, but having a legit rock star singing on the street would be almost like a tourist attraction.
I was not amused.
And I am still not amused.
Not when I’m driving to an actual job in a Mercedes that cost more than the building the taffy is sold in.
Nor when I get out of the car, grab my bucket — yes, there is an actual taffy bucket — and plop myself on the corner of the street.
People gather around. They expect me to sing the jingle. I want to kill myself. Why didn’t I die in that accident?
“
Seaside Taffy
,” I began. My voice cracked. It hasn’t cracked since I was five. Again, I want to die. “
Loads of fun, in your tummy. Yum, yum, yum
.” I swear I can feel Bob snickering from twenty feet away. “
Ice cream, taffy, treats galore! Don’t forget to stop at our store!
” I gave a dramatic bow.
I expected applause, or at least some sort of acknowledgement that I did just give the best performance of my life.
What did I get? One solitary clap. One person. I cringed thinking of the pity clap. It was the type of applause every performer dreads hearing. Swearing, I turned around. It was a little girl. She was five, by the way.
“Want some taffy?”
I held out a piece of taffy and the mom suddenly looks horrified like I planned to lay a taffy trail all the way to my car in order to abduct her child.
They hurried away and I’m stuck again with a crowd of people trying to get around me while I shake my bucket. “Seaside Taffy!” I yelled louder this time and threw my hands out in the air. Might as well commit, since this was my hell for the next few months.
“Seaside Taffy!” I flailed my arms again and a piece of taffy flew out of my hand, right into the back of someone’s head.
Great. Add assault to my record.
The person turned around and I was a little shocked, because to be honest, I thought I had hit some punk kid.
Not. The. Case.
“Seriously?” The girl stomped toward me, all five feet of her and glared. She was wearing a hat that said “The Best Taffy in the World” and an oversized sweater with leggings and boots.
“It slipped,” I offered lamely.
She reached for my bucket. I jerked it out of her reach. “Nobody touches the bucket.”
Wow. I was so ashamed of myself that I wanted to jump into the bucket and hide. Was I really getting possessive over my bucket? Like some homeless man with his cart?
She reached for the bucket again.
I snapped. “What’s your problem!”
“My problem?” she repeated, her eyebrows shot to the top of her forehead. Damn, she had pretty eyes.
I nodded. Words weren’t really my thing since I was shamelessly checking her out.
“My problem…” She laughed bitterly. “Is that the minute your punk rocker self got into this town, our business has suffered, and you don’t even take it seriously! And now you’re working my corner!”
“Whoa!” I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. Your corner? What? Is this Pretty Woman or something?”
“Did you just call me a prostitute?”
Yes. Yes I did. “Nope, more like a call girl. Prostitutes don’t dress like blind middle schoolers.”
“Agh!” She swatted my bucket, making all the candy fall to the ground. Amused, I crossed my arms and watched the fire blaze in her eyes. Really, it was a pity she dressed so horribly, and that she was wearing that awful hat. Though, I guess my visor wasn’t any better, but still. I made it look good.
“Just watch it.”
Brawl alert. I almost expected people to start coming out of the alleys with toothpicks in their mouths and newspapers in their hands.
How the hell did I get stuck in a Broadway musical?
Since I was committing to the whole Seaside Taffy act, might as well commit to this one too. “Noted, Shop Girl. Noted. Now run along.”
Her eyes widened, and for a second I was shocked at how pretty she was. With a grunt and a cute little curse, she stomped off across the street.
I waved in her direction and started the jingle all over again. This time really committing, by way of throwing in a few AD2 dance moves that I knew would likely land me in prison if I moved to hastily in the wrong direction.
Three hours later, I was seriously rethinking this whole job business. It started to rain shortly after my dancing began. No doubt people thought it was because of my inability to keep my hips from moving with the stupid candy bucket.
With a sigh I adjusted my visor and tried to protect the taffy bucket. If my only job was to sell taffy and get people into the store, I didn’t want to be the one loser who got the taffy wet and single-handedly took down the longest running taffy store in the history of Seaside, Oregon.
Thankfully, Bob must have sensed my plight, or maybe he was tired of me texting him every two seconds asking him for an umbrella. I knew it was pathetic, and okay, maybe a little bit ridiculous, but I was beyond drenched.
My teeth were chattering, and I was giving everyone with two eyes an unobstructed view of my nipple ring through the wet t-shirt.
If the mom from earlier was to come by now, she’d be horrified. And I’d be put in prison.
Ah, prison. Such a pipe dream. At least it’s warm there.
“You’re getting the taffy wet,” a female voice said behind me.
Slowly I turned around. It was the big-eyed girl from before. Only now she was wearing a slick rain coat and rain boots.
“Caught that did you?” I sneered. I wasn’t sure why I was so irritated. Maybe it was the rain? Maybe it was withdrawals from drugs. But I was pissed that the same girl who verbally attacked me from earlier would not only come back for more, but would blatantly tell me something I already knew.
“I’m not stupid,” I said, shaking my head while still trying to shield the bucket with my body.
“You sure about that?” she asked, folding her arms.
“Did you seriously come back out here in the rain just to challenge my intelligence?”
“That depends.” Her lips turned upward into a shadow of a smile.
Fine. I’ll bite. “On what, Sweetheart?”
“Are you going to stand in the rain or move two feet and stand underneath the overhang?”
Shit
. I looked up. Sure enough. There was a healthy overhang that could have been shielding me from the rain for the past two hours.
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I like the rain.”
She bit her lip and looked around. People walked around us with their umbrellas, all trying to duck into the shops until the rain stopped. I shivered in response and waited for her to say something.
“You chose the right place to be then.”
If she only knew I had no choice whatsoever in the matter. “Yup, guess I did.” Seriously. I was getting nowhere with this girl. All flirting genes apparently died in the car accident, while I was left very much alive — and very much a loser. What a bright future I had!
Author Note:
I had so much fun writing this book. I think every author says this when they are done with a huge project, but there are so many people to thank that it would take pages for me to actually get through the thank you’s, and by then you’d be wanting to throw your e-reader, so I’ll start with the most important.
I thank God every day for allowing me to live my dream! It is because of Him that I’m even able to do what I do.
Laura Heritage. Editor extraordinaire. You are not only an amazing editor, but a fantastic writer and a wonderful friend. Thank you for believing in this project and helping to make it a reality.
Stephanie Taylor, Editor-in-Chief of Astraea Press and my publisher when I’m not doing a self published project like this one. Thank you for not only allowing me the freedom to do something cra
zy like self publish a book, but supporting me in the process and walking me through it. I don’t know many publishers that would stand by and do that. I’m constantly in awe of you!
Thanks to my family and my sexy husband for putting up with me when I ignore everything but my computer for hours on end.
And finally, thank you to my readers. I love you guys so much! If you haven’t already, add me on Facebook and Twitter and check out my website: www.rachelvandyken.com. As always, if you liked the book write a review. If you hated it, write a review. I love to hear the good and yes, even the bad.
Other books by Rachel Van Dyken:
The Devil Duke Takes A Bride
The Ugly Duckling Debutante
Every Girl Does it
Compromising Kessen
Savage Winter
The Parting Gift
Waltzing With
the Wallflower
The Seduction of Sebastian St. James
Beguiling Bridget
The Redemption of Lord Rawlings
Upon A Midnight Dream
Whispered Music
An Unlikely Alliance
Coming Soon:
The Bet
The Wolf’s Pursuit
Pull
Taming Wilde
Divine Uprising
Irresistible Terms
About the Author
Rachel Van Dyken
is the USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at
www.rachelvandyken.com
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