Suite Dreams

by Rachel Hawthorne

  “Lys?” Jude’s voice was tender, which should have helped, but all it did was make me want to cry more.

  “He was my boyfriend,” I admitted. “But we decided to separate for a while. Take things easy, remain friends. I’m having a hard time defining what we are, because it just sorta came out of the blue right before he left. And it’s just left me confused.”

  “Do you want to get back together?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I thought maybe, but”—I shook my head—“I don’t know. Rick was my first boyfriend. I guess I haven’t really dealt with our decision. God, I haven’t even told anyone.”

  “Why not?”

  “Hello? Failure city.”

  “You’re not a failure. Sometimes relationships just don’t work out. It’s nobody’s fault.”

  He sounded so reasonable. It was the same argument Rick had used with me. I needed to process. But right now I didn’t have time.

  “I really need to get to work.”

  I picked up my pace. Jude fell into step beside me.

  “You should talk about it,” he said.

  “I know. And I will.” I glanced over at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t lay it all on you.”

  “I don’t mind. Maybe on the walk home—”

  “You came here to have fun, not to listen to my breakup woes.”

  “As hard as breaking up is, it’s better than staying together if things aren’t working.”

  “Are you talking from experience?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned. “Can’t share with you if you won’t share with me.”

  It was amazing. Just a few words from him and I felt better already.

  “All right. Maybe later,” I said hesitantly.

  “As long as I have use of your couch, I’ll be around.”

  When we arrived at The Chalet, Jude gave a little whistle. “Nice. I can see why those veggies are so expensive.”

  The restaurant was designed to resemble something you’d find in the Swiss Alps. Evergreens had been strategically placed so there was no view of other buildings that might be in the area.

  “So I should come back when? Around eleven?” Jude asked.

  I grabbed his arm. “First, come around to the back. I have a surprise for you.”

  “What kind of surprise?”

  I was practically giddy at the thought of finally sharing the news. I wasn’t usually good at keeping surprises, but I’d wanted to wait until the right moment to spring this one. “A free meal.”

  His eyes widened. “How’d you manage that?”

  “The quick phone call I made before we left? It was to my boss. The employees always get a complimentary meal before we open, and he okayed one for you tonight.” I’d gone to my room because I hadn’t wanted Jude to hear the call, just in case Paul had said no.

  “You’re amazing.”

  The sparkle in his eyes when he looked at me made me feel amazing, and my earlier confusing feelings about Rick melted away.

  “Come on.” I took him around to the back. We went through the door into the kitchen.

  Chaos abounded inside. While we set up for the night, the chef would prepare our meals. He wasn’t haughty, but he did insist we call him Chef. Our restaurant was the kind that hired chefs, not cooks.

  I led Jude to the back office where Paul worked. The door was open. Still I knocked.

  Paul looked up from whatever he’d been studying, probably next week’s schedule. I smiled at him. He had a face weathered by the cold, winds, ice, and snow. He was a volunteer mountain rescuer. Legend had it he’d climbed Mount Everest. I couldn’t imagine how awesome it would be to stand at the top of the world and look down.

  I made introductions.

  “Sorry, I’m too busy at the moment for chit-chat. Alyssa, give Jude a menu and have him select his dinner with our compliments.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jude said. “I really appreciate it.”

  Paul nodded and went back to his papers.

  I escorted Jude to the dining room. The lights were turned low. Soft music played in the background. I caught sight of Mel lighting the candle on a nearby table.

  “Hey, Mel,” I said.

  Without turning to look at me, she growled. “Two of the busboys called in sick. Can you believe it?”

  Sick? I thought. Yeah, right. The first Saturday after finals? Did they think we’d all been born yesterday? Tonight would be more insane than usual.

  “Listen, I have someone I want you to meet.”

  She spun around, looking flustered and PO’d. Then she looked astonished and smiled at Jude. “Oh, hey.”

  “Mel, this is Jude. Jude, this is Mel Gibson.”

  Jude released a burst of laughter, then apologized. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, I get it all the time,” Mel said. “My parents have a warped sense of humor. They named me Melinda but they had to know people would call me Mel, so what can you do?”

  “Now I’m going to go back home with all kinds of great stories. No one’s gonna believe I’ve met Mel Gibson, but in fact, I have.”

  She pointed her finger at him. “You’re an Aussie.” She looked at me speculatively, eyebrow raised.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. Right now I need to get Jude situated.”

  I sat him at one of our larger tables, one that most of us usually sat at while we ate. I grabbed a menu and handed it to him. “Look it over. I’ll be right back.”

  I returned to the kitchen, removed my jacket, and hung it on the coat rack near the door. I fished my apron out of my pocket and had barely finished tying it in place when Mel grabbed my arm and spun me around.

  “Okay, give me the short version of the long story,” she demanded.

  “The couch Rick is sleeping on? It isn’t exactly free, as it turns out. He swapped his here for that one there, and in typical Rick fashion forgot to tell anyone, except Jude. So I’m playing tour guide.”

  I almost laughed at the astonished expression on Mel’s face. “He’s one hot Aussie. So what are you going to do with him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She made a little snorting noise. “I think he thinks he has a chance with you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you.”

  What was she talking about?

  “Of course he does.” He’d run into things otherwise. “I need to get his food order going, so I’ll catch you later.”

  She grabbed my arm before I took two steps. “Since you’re not back in study mode yet, consider this: Boomer’s band is playing a gig at a club near here. I wondered if you wanted to go with me. You can bring Mad Max.”

  Mel was into apocalyptic movies and the real Mel Gibson.

  “What—tonight?”

  She laughed. “Yeah. It’s open-mike night, but he doesn’t go on until eleven, so I figure if we clean up really fast—another reason I’m mad at Tweedledee and Twiddledum for not showing—we can hoof it over there and maybe catch a song or two. Then we can just hang around and listen to the other bands. It’ll be fun.”

  “Maybe. I have to check with Jude, see if he’s interested. I don’t know what his plans are.” He probably didn’t have any, but I didn’t know him well enough to know what his likes and dislikes were. I grabbed my menu pad and headed back into the dining room.

  Jude was leaning back in his chair. The menu was closed. I had just a moment to fantasize about what it would be like to have dinner here with Jude—dinner as in a date, not free food. I wasn’t sure there’d be anything more romantic.

  I shoved the fantasy aside and approached the table.

  “So what’ll you have?” I asked in my very best waitress voice, pencil poised over my pad.

  “You weren’t kidding about the veggies,” he said. “This stuff is out-of-control expensive. I can’t eat here.”

  Exactly the way our customers preferred it. For some, eating here was a status symbol.

  “Paul is totally ok
ay with it.”

  Jude shook his head. “I can’t do it, Lys. Sorry. I really appreciate the trouble you went to for me, but I just can’t.” He stood up, leaned in, and kissed my cheek. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”

  I told myself it was only a kiss on the cheek. It didn’t mean anything. But my body wasn’t listening. It grew all warm and cozy.

  “But I, uh…” It was difficult when I couldn’t focus, when I kept wanting to replay that kiss, wondering if it had meant something. Mel couldn’t be right. Jude and I had met less than twenty-four hours ago—although it seemed like it had been much longer than that. But in a good way.

  “What if you could work for it?” I blurted, not even sure where that solution had come from.

  But it gave him pause and I could see him considering it. “Doing what?”

  “Apparently a couple of the busboys called in sick. You could clear tables?” I said it like a question, because a lot of things had to be factored in. Could he do it? Of course he could. But did he want to do it? And more important, would Paul be okay with it? That was the big question.

  Paul was actually very okay with the idea. Quite relieved in fact. I left Jude in his office so Paul could explain things, and went to turn in our dinner order.

  All the heady aromas of the kitchen wafted around me as I helped Mel finish getting things ready.

  “Orders up!” Chef called out.

  I grabbed my dinner and Jude’s. He was sitting at the table where I’d left him earlier. He looked extremely happy to see the steak I set before him.

  Jude rubbed his hands together. “That looks good.”

  “What do you want to drink?”

  “A beer?”

  I shook my head. “Not unless you’re twenty-one.”

  “Where I’m from the drinking age is eighteen, which seems much more civilized.”

  “Sorry. You’ll just have to accept that we’re barbarians here. So how about a soda?”

  “Sounds good.”

  I grabbed two sodas and rejoined him at the table. I watched as Jude sliced off a bit of steak. It was kind of strange, because I felt more like a couple with Jude right at that moment than I’d ever felt with Rick.

  Rick had never walked me to work. It was a new experience for me, to have so much devoted attention from a guy in so short a time. I told myself that it was just because Jude didn’t know anyone else. It could all be different tomorrow.

  “Why the long face?” Jude asked.

  I jerked out of my morose musings, trying not to acknowledge that Rick had never noticed my subtle moods. I shook my head. “Just lost in thought.”

  “Thinking about Rick?”

  “Sorta. Not really. And I’m sure you don’t want to hear about me.”

  “I enjoy it when you talk about you. I like learning things about you.”

  Feeling the heat warming my face, I dipped my fork into my potatoes. “So I’m a curiosity?”

  “I s’pose, but it’s more than that.” He ducked his head like maybe he was the one who was now embarrassed.

  “Did Rick tell you a lot about me?”

  “Not a lot, but enough.”

  “Why?”

  “So I’d feel comfortable asking you for help, I s’pose. Since I don’t know anyone else around here.”

  “But now you know Mel. And Paul. Did he explain everything?”

  “Yeah. And he has a white shirt and tie I can borrow. I can’t remember the last time I wore a tie. I think it was to my uncle’s funeral.”

  “Oh.” I grimaced. “No fun.”

  “What’s no fun?” Mel said, setting her plate down and dropping into the chair across from mine.

  “Going to funerals,” I said.

  “Okay, I can tell we need a serious topic change here. So what is a hot Aussie doing in Vermont?”

  Jude gave her his heart-stopping grin. “I’m not sure I’ve been hot since I arrived in your lovely state.”

  Mel’s laughter was a deep, throaty sound. “Yeah, sure. So did Alyssa tell you that we’re going to a club after work?”

  Jude raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I didn’t commit to that,” I said. Then I looked back at Jude. “I just haven’t had a chance to mention it. It’s totally up to you, if you want to go. Her boyfriend plays in a band.”

  “Live music at a club? Why would I say no?”

  I shrugged at Mel. “I believe that’s a yes.”

  “You won’t regret it.”

  “I can’t believe you haven’t asked me before,” I said.

  “This is their first gig at a club. They’re really nervous. Boomer is convinced something is going to go wrong. You know how they say opposites attract? He’s the eternal pessimist; I’m the eternal optimist.”

  The other employees soon joined us. I made introductions. Jude charmed them all, and he was able to contribute to any conversation. I guessed traveling around and sleeping on other people’s couches gave him a vast amount of experience and knowledge.

  Unfortunately we weren’t leisurely diners, because we were all on a schedule and customers would be arriving any minute. As soon as we finished eating, we cleared the table, taking our dishes to the dishwashing area.

  Jude went to Paul’s office to get his uniform.

  “I like him,” Mel said.

  “Yeah, I do too.”

  “So let me ask you. How are you going to be a tour guide and go to class?”

  “I’ll figure something out.” I wasn’t exactly sure what. I’d be in class for five hours starting at eight in the morning. Then I needed to study. Of course there was always a chance that after tonight Jude wouldn’t need me.

  Mel turned her attention toward Paul’s office. “Wow!”

  Jude was wearing the required white shirt and black tie, and he looked amazing.

  Wow indeed, I thought. Wow indeed.

  Chapter 6

  Jude was exceptional. He cleaned and reset the tables in silence, which was part of our restaurant’s charm. No one was ever supposed to be disturbed by the work we did. We were quiet and dignified.

  Jude also had the energy of two busboys. Once the restaurant closed, cleanup was done in record time.

  “You are totally awesome,” Mel said to Jude as we walked to the nearby club.

  Jude held out his arms as though he was presenting himself onstage. “You’re looking at Oz’s finest at getting the job done, whatever it is.”

  And Oz’s most modest, apparently, although his confidence in his abilities wasn’t a turnoff at all. It just made him more endearing.

  “Come on,” Mel said, hurrying us toward the club. “I don’t hear any music so they must be between acts. We might catch Maximum Output before they start.”

  “Maximum Output?” I asked.

  “That’s the name of the band.”

  “I have a feeling it’s not going to be classical music,” Jude said.

  “Absolutely not,” Mel assured him.

  We had to show our IDs at the door. Because we were underage, we weren’t given a yellow paper bracelet that would have signaled we could buy alcohol.

  Jude was, understandably, disappointed. It wasn’t that he was obsessed with drinking, but he was accustomed to having a “pint or two” when he went to the clubs. But he was a good sport about the prospect of drinking sodas.

  Boomer had claimed a table near the front of the stage. In spite of the cold weather, Boomer was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves torn off. His biceps were tattooed with symbols that meant nothing to me. Before tonight he’d always worn his blond hair in a disheveled style, but now it was spiked. He wore braided leather around his neck and both wrists. He looked tough. Quite honestly, I barely recognized him. I guessed he was in performance mode and that was a drastic transition from grad student mode. Introductions were made. Boomer was a guitarist and singer. Tom was the bass guitarist.

  “And Zach, our drummer, is running late,” Boomer said.

  The drums
were already in place. Apparently, Boomer had an SUV and he was the one who hauled the drum kit around.

  “I could help you out there, mate,” Jude said.

  “You play drums?” Boomer asked.

  “I do indeed.”

  Boomer slung his arm around Jude and led him toward the stage, giving him instructions, I supposed.

  “Well, okay, then,” Mel said, dropping into a chair at the table.

  “Guess it’s a good thing that we came,” I said, sitting beside her.

  “He is really cute,” Mel whispered loudly.

  To be heard, all whispers had to be loud. The place was packed.

  “Who? Boomer?” I asked.

  “No. Well, yes. Of course. But I meant Jude. So he and Rick swapped couches?” Mel asked.

  “Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, except Rick’s couch isn’t available because Rick forgot to tell Chad, so…”

  She arched a brow. “So?”

  “So…Jude’s sleeping on my couch.”

  “Omigod! Are you breaking the rules?”

  “I know, hard to believe, but”—I leaned conspiratorially toward her—“he is too cute to resist.”

  “Better watch out, girlfriend. I’m sure Rick meant to give him only the couch.”

  I decided I needed to fess up about our breakup but at that moment, the drums rumbled through the room.

  Boomer stepped up to the mike. “Good evening, dudes and dudettes! We’ve only got twenty minutes before the next band gets their turn”—he pointed to a table, and five guys threw their arms in the air and cheered—“so let’s get started. We’re Maximum Output and we’re going to blow you away!”

  They rocked for twenty minutes, playing familiar songs that established bands had recorded. I figured since they weren’t playing original material, Jude was familiar enough with the music to keep up with them—or maybe Boomer had asked him what songs he knew. Whatever. They were great.

  About halfway through, Mel stood on her chair and started dancing. Then she looked down at me, like, could I be any more boring? So I climbed on the chair and wiggled around to the hoots and hollers of others in the club. I’d freed my hair from its ponytail before we left work so it was swirling madly around me with my movements.

  Some people were dancing in front of the band. Standing on the chair gave me a better view of Jude. He was putting everything he had into the drums, his hair flying around. He was so animated, so into it.