Brothers of Paradise Series

“The decision was mine, as you might recall, and it was the least I could have done. You harassed a member of my staff. As long as I own this place, you will never be allowed past the front door.” I give him a wide, conspiratorial smile. “And between you and me, John, I have no plans of selling it.”

His car keys stop spinning, his fist clenched tight around these. “Parker, look here-I know you mean well, but I’ve been eating here since before you were born, and it’s absolutely unreasonable-”

I let my eyes drop down over his form, to the boat shoes firmly planted on my hardwood floors. “Looks like you’re trespassing, John.”

He shifts closer and drops his voice an octave. It’s furious. “It was a stupid mistake, okay? Do you want me to apologize to the girl? I can do that, if you insist. Won’t happen again either. Lord knows she wasn’t worth it.”

Anger flares in my chest. People are watching, I remind myself. She might be watching. I have to take a breath before answering or I’ll say something I’ll regret.

Doesn’t mean my fists don’t clench.

“You won’t come near anyone in my employ,” I say, “now or in the future. Now leave my restaurant, John. I won’t ask you one more time.”

A scarlet color rises up his weathered neck and cheeks. It’s startling against the pink of his shirt. “You were always a good kid. I’m sorry to see this happen to you.”

I take a step forward, like I’m going to force him out. He immediately backs up. “I play golf with your dad sometimes!”

“Then give him my regards.” I open the door wide for him. “Now leave, and never come back, or I’ll be happy to tell Marie and those kids of yours exactly why you’re banned the next time they stop by.”

John sighs like he’s been wronged, a man infringed upon, and disappears out the front door. I watch him head toward his Land Rover.

Someone gives a delicate cough behind me. “I don’t think he’ll be back,” Stephen says.

“Me neither,” I say. “His pride won’t take another conversation like that.”

“And good riddance,” he mutters, looking down at his ledger with bookings. “We have a big party arriving at three, I should prepare an eight-top…”

He disappears in a sharp turn of his heel, revealing who’s been standing behind him. Listening to the whole conversation.

Jamie’s eyes are bottomless and impossible to read.

The fire in my chest from talking to John is still burning. I resist the urge to rub my hand over the spot, right beneath my breastbone. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she murmurs.

“A box of merchandise arrived today,” I say. “It’s in my office.”

She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. “Want me to take a look at it?”

“Yes, if you’re not too busy,” I say. Polite. Like we’re strangers.

“No, I have time.”Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

We make it into the tiny back office in silence. The box is in the corner, large, silent, a witness to our awkwardness.

Jamie pulls the door half-closed behind her.

“I’m sorry he came by,” I say. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Thank you for… saying what you did.”

“I meant what I said. He’s never going to come here again.”

“That’s good,” she says, taking a deep breath.”Definitely good.”

“He offered to apologize to you, but I turned that down. Maybe I shouldn’t have.” I run a hand over the edge of my jaw. “Did you want it?”

She shakes her head. “I’d rather not see him again.”

“I figured.”

Her eyes flit from mine to the box in the corner, with the merch. I look at her lips and damn, I shouldn’t, because now all I can think about is their softness. “Parker, I… ”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have presumed… I mean, I was the one who started it.” She shifts from one foot to the other, and I hate the words. Hate the way she’s speaking them. “Can we pretend it never happened?”

I have to swallow, hard, before answering. “Of course, if that’s what you want.”

She nods. “Yes. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Consider it forgotten,” I say.

I wonder if it’s the first time I’ve ever lied to her.

Jamie’s shoulders relax. “All right, okay. Thanks.”

I’d been right, then. I’d pushed too hard by initiating the second kiss, by being so… into it. We work together. It’s inappropriate in every way and then some, and considering she has a small daughter and a complicated past?

I don’t blame her for pulling back, even if the fire in my chest feels painful.

She drops to her knees by the box, sounding more like herself. “Let’s take a look at these.”

I hand her a pair of box cutters and for fifteen minutes we only talk of T-shirts and the fit of the caps and the rough linen napkins with the club’s logo on them. She’s tentatively convinced that if we offer them for the guests when they order seafood, people will want to bring their own set home.

There’s a glow of excitement in her eyes at the ideas. I don’t know why this matters to her so much, this job, beyond the salary. But I’m not going to protest or complain. Anything she wants.

“Look,” she says, holding up the navy blue mug with the logo on it.

“Thank you,” I say, and nab it out of her hand. “I needed a new coffee mug.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an easiness to her smile now. “This place is such a huge piece of everyone’s life in town. A mug from this place is a father’s day gift to the man who already owns a boat, has everything, and a bank account to buy it himself… but he won’t, because he won’t think of it.”

I grin at her. “You’re diabolical.”

Jamie looks back down at the empty box, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “This stuff is more fun than I expected. It’s creative, too.”

“It definitely is. You have an eye for it. But then, you were always artsy.”