Before I Ever Met You

Ty looks at me with big eyes. “Can we go camping?”


“Finish your dinner and then we’ll talk about it,” I tell him, giving Will a look. If he’s been amused by me all week, I’m certainly amused by him right now.

After dinner, the desert comes out—homemade cherry pie—and then the adults retire to the living room for their digestifs. Even though my mother insisted I drink with them, I honestly just want to call it a night.

When I’m done saying goodnight, I head up the stairs and down the hall toward Ty’s room, where he’s probably reading his dinosaur book again, since he made a beeline for it the moment he was excused from the table.

“Jackie,” I hear Will’s deep voice from behind me.

I pause and turn around to see him at the top of the stairs.

“Hey,” he says, keep his voice low. “I hope I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes.” I shake my head, walking closer to him. The hall is dimly lit and his face is half-shadowed, the strong lines of his cheekbones and jaw highlighted.

I stop in front of him and have to crane my head back slightly. He’s almost a full foot taller than me, and right now he somehow seems even taller.

He licks his lips and I can’t help but watch his tongue. “I understand if it’s completely inappropriate for me to take Tyson. I just . . .felt for him, that’s all.”

Oh my god.

My heart is doing a backward summersault.

Even his own grandfather doesn’t seem to feel for him, though I know that thought isn’t exactly fair.

“That’s fine,” I manage to say, clearing my throat. “Thank you. I was just worried you didn’t mean it. He’s had so many heartbreaks lately . . .”

“I mean everything I say,” he says to me, his voice sliding over my skin. “Always. If you don’t know that already, you’ll know it soon.”

I swallow hard. It feels so different, being with him alone in this hallway, him without his suit, without the office lights, without a million people around us. He seems so much older somehow, not in age, but just . . . such a man. His large, focused presence around me like this nearly tips me off balance.

“Well, again, thank you,” I tell him, making myself feel awkward. “You really don’t mind if I tag along?”

“As long as you don’t mind having spent Friday night and Saturday with your boss,” he says, a sly grin spreading across his face, “then I insist.”

Boss.

He’s your boss.

Don’t forget it.

Your father’s business partner and friend.

Don’t forget that either.

I nod. “Great. What time?”

“Eleven too early for you?”

“Not at all,” I say.

“Good. I’ll swing by here, pick you guys up.”

Is this really happening?

He pats me on the arm, gives me another wink that makes me weak at the knees. “I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

I watch as his tall, muscled frame saunters down the hall, disappearing down the stairs.

Then I lean against the wall, trying to regain my breath.





4





“The restaurant is actually called Ohana Lounge,” Logan explains as he opens the heavy doors and we step inside. “Ohana means family in Hawaiian, by the way. But most locals call it the last stop.”

The area inside is actually a lot more spacious than it looked from the outside. Skylights adorn the ceiling, and the entire back wall of the restaurant has the amazing ocean views I had noted earlier. Even though the lights are all off, the place looks bright.

There's an empty hostess stand at the podium with a sign that says please seat yourself. To the left of us are the washrooms, just off the small waiting area. To the right it looks like the door to the kitchen.

I follow Logan further inside, the decorating similar to my new room, perhaps with more of a Mediterranean or middle-eastern feel. There's a bar to the left of us, small and rounded, with five bamboo barstools along it, and to the right is the kitchen, open slightly to the restaurant.

Charlie is already in there, smiling at me through the open section before he quickly turns away and busies himself once Logan catches his eye.

I turn back to the room and take quick stock of my new workplace, my eyes immediately taking in everything that needs to be improved. I can't help it.

“How many of these tables are used on a given night?” I ask Logan. “How often are you full?”

He leans back on his heels, strokes his hand along the beard on his jaw. My god, he has perfect hands. Wide, powerful—I'd forgotten about that. It was one of the first things I noticed about him, though when the wedding band went on his left hand, I stopped noticing all together.

At least, I should have.

“Not every night. There's never really a wait for a table until we get into the busy seasons . . . Christmas, the winter holidays, summer holidays. Autumn is the shoulder season, which is why Charlie and Johnny have been able to manage with just the two of them. But the closer we get to December, the busier it's going to get.”

“Well, my first thought is that the place is too cramped,” I tell him.

He frowns at me. “Too cramped?” He looks personally insulted. “Look at all this space.”

I shake my head. “It's spacious but the set-up is all wrong. You're crowding too many tables by the window.”

“But people want the view.”

“Then people will have to get here early or make reservations if they want the view,” I tell him. I jerk my chin to two four-seaters by the window. “Get rid of those completely. Stack them in storage for now, put them somewhere more accessible when the busy season comes, but for now they're an eyesore. People might want the view of the windows but they don't want to share it so closely with others. Since you say not many families come here, the four-seaters aren't needed, not there anyway. Kids don't give a shit about the view. I say, push the four-seaters up there in that alcove, and that can become the family area. Couples don't want children causing a fuss over dinner, believe me. And if this means that more people will have to wait to get a table, let them wait. People stay at the hotel, they want to eat here because they're too lazy to go into town or they want to have a few drinks at dinner and don't want to drink and drive. So then you add a couple of more stools to the bar, there's room, and they can wait there. Maybe even serve drinks in the waiting area, or set up some tables outside. There’s a whole beach out there with an even better view; they can relax while they wait.”

I realize I've been totally rambling on and from the glower that Logan is given, I can tell my suggestions aren't exactly appreciated.