by Coleen Kwan
After all these years, he hadn’t thought it possible that a woman could get him so hot and bothered, but Nina did something to him, got him doing and thinking crazy things, and he wasn’t sure he liked that.
“So tell me more about the Comet Inn,” Nina said as she caught up with him.
They were back in the reception lobby, and Joe paused to take in the cozy, wood-paneled interior. No matter how many times he saw this place, he always felt a thrill from knowing he was the owner. When he was fifteen, he’d gotten his first job here as a lowly kitchen hand; then five years ago, he’d bought the historic but dilapidated inn and worked his butt off bringing it up to scratch.
“As you can see, it’s pretty old.” He gestured at the timber beams and windows. “About a hundred years. Originally built to accommodate sailors, but we get most of our trade on weekends and vacations. Accommodation upstairs for eight couples. We don’t do breakfast, but there’s a good coffee shop on the corner. Nowadays most of our revenue comes from the bar and restaurant. We’re open for dinner six nights a week, and the kitchen does a bar menu, too.”
He led her through stained-glass doors into the bar, a spacious area with exposed brick walls, a long, polished counter, and French doors exposing the view to the courtyard.
Vince, his bartender and friend, nodded at him from behind the counter. “Hey, how did it go at the bank today?”
Joe shook his head. “Not so great. I’ll fill you in later.”
But Vince wasn’t paying him much attention. His focus had slid past Joe and fastened on Nina. Joe gestured to her.
“Vince, meet Nina Summers. She’s new in town and will be cleaning the rooms, busing tables, and helping out in the kitchen. Nina, this is Vince Nucifora, the guy in charge of the bar.”
The bartender wiped his hand on a cloth before eagerly shaking hands with Nina.
“Hey, Nina. Welcome to Hartley and the Comet Inn.” Vince winked at her. “You’ll like it here, as long as you don’t mind having a slave driver for a boss.”
“A slave driver, huh? I never would have guessed.” Nina peeked impishly at Joe.
She likes to tease, Joe thought, refusing to react. “I’ll take you through to the kitchen and introduce you to Sarah.”
When Joe had started turning a profit at the inn, he’d built an extension to house the restaurant and fitted out a brand-spanking-new kitchen. This was now the undisputed domain of Sarah Wainwright, his exacting, talented head chef. As they entered the kitchen, Sarah was complaining loudly, and when she spotted him, she marched over.
“Look at these.” She thrust a handful of mushrooms in his face. “That Greg has some nerve, trying to pass this garbage on to me. They’re not even good enough for soup. I’m going to call him right now and give him hell.”
Joe didn’t feel much sympathy for Greg. Every supplier to the restaurant knew Sarah’s rigorous standards.
“Go ahead and call him,” he said, “but first I’d like to introduce you to a new employee.” He made the introductions. Unlike Vince, Sarah greeted Nina with some reserve.
“Have you worked in hospitality long?” Sarah asked, eyeing Nina’s disheveled appearance.
Nina cleared her throat. “About eighteen months. I was waitressing down in San Francisco.”
“Where in San Francisco?”
“A coffee shop,” Nina said.
“Which one?”
Nina blinked nervously several times. “Uh, the, uh, Daily Grind. Good name for a coffee shop, huh?”
Sarah didn’t let up. “And where in San Francisco is it?”
“Well, uh, it was in the Embarcadero, but it closed down a month ago.”
“So you’ve never worked in a restaurant before?”
“No.” Nina stood her ground. “But I’m eager to learn.”
“Humph.” Sarah aimed a look at Joe as if to say, God, a newbie? What were you thinking!
He said, “Nina will be busing tables tonight and helping with the dish washing, since Nathan’s out of action.”
“In those heels?” Sarah gestured at Nina’s fancy cowboy boots. “You won’t last an hour.”
Nina’s cheeks flushed as she lifted her chin. “I’ll be fine.”
Joe glanced at Nina’s boots. They were definitely sexy, but also impractical, and the leather looked damp. He was about to explain that Nina’s stuff had been stolen, but stopped himself, figuring she probably didn’t want everyone knowing her personal problems.
Sarah all but rolled her eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Joe tugged at Nina’s elbow. “You’ll meet the rest of the staff when you come on duty. Right now, I need you to get moving on those guest rooms.”
When they were out in the lobby, Nina turned to him. “Did I do something to annoy Sarah? I get the feeling she doesn’t like me much.”
But Vince likes you. The thought intruded into his mind without warning. Why did that bother him? Vince was a good friend. He was an easygoing guy who liked a lot of people—that was what made him such a good bartender.
“Sarah can be prickly,” he said. “She’s a perfectionist, but if you work hard and pull your weight, she’ll come around.”
Nina moved closer, near enough for him to see the faint dusting of freckles across her pert nose and the tiny pulse beating at the base of her throat. “I intend to, and I’m grateful to you for giving me a chance.”
Joe’s concentration drifted to her mouth, those soft pink lips inciting illicit thoughts. Hell, he’d like to give her something more than just a chance.
“Let’s see how you do tonight,” he said.
“Sure thing. Why don’t I clean that up for a start?” She nodded at the remaining spilled lavender oil in the corner of the reception lobby. “I’m not allergic to lavender, so you can keep the pink gloves for yourself.”
He ignored the quip. “That’d be great.”
She drew in a deep breath and flexed her arms like she was about to run a race. “This is a new beginning for me.”
“Yeah?” Once again his curiosity piqued. “You’re turning over a new leaf or something?”
“Not only a new leaf—I’m turning over a whole tree.”
“Well, just remember not to drop a load on me while you’re doing all this turning.”
“I won’t, Joe. I promise. You won’t regret hiring me.”
Famous last words. Joe rubbed his upper lip as he watched her bend over the bucket he’d left in the lobby. The sight of her tight, round butt captivated him. Those boots of hers looked expensive, especially compared to the rest of her clothes. How could she afford them? Maybe she had a shoe fetish…aw, hell. Now he couldn’t help picturing her wearing nothing but those boots.
…
Nina was ready to lose it. If Sarah told her one more time to move her ass, she was going to tip her fully laden bus pan over the chef’s head.
Her feet, tortured by her boots, moaned in protest as she carried the full bus pan into the kitchen. Her shoulder muscles had stopped complaining an hour ago and were now numb, but she knew as soon as she sat down they’d start bitching again. It was better to keep moving. Also, staying on the move meant she was less likely to be the target of Sarah’s ire.
Well, this was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? No special favors because of who she was. Yeah, now she knew what life was like on the other side. If she wasn’t aching with exhaustion, she’d have to laugh at the irony.
Nina hefted the bus pan onto the counter where Trevor, the other kitchen hand, worked. In between clearing tables, she’d helped him rinse and wash, though she was a tortoise compared to him. And a clumsy one, too, as she’d broken two plates, the cost of which, Trevor had informed her, would be deducted from her pay.
“Is it always this busy on a Thursday night?” she asked, leaning against the counter to give her feet a break.
“Gets busier every month.” Trevor kept on stacking dirty dishes as he talked. “Sarah’s new menu is a hit. You gotta try her twic
e-cooked pork belly with lentils.”
Nina groaned. “Stop talking about food. All I had was a burger and fries like twelve hours ago.” It felt like twelve hours, though in reality less than three hours had passed since she’d been allowed to chow down a quick meal before the dinner service started. The burger had been very good. Since then she’d been working nonstop under the tyrannical rule of Sarah.
“Hey, Nina, quit lazing around there.” The same tyrant scowled at her from across the kitchen. “Make yourself useful. There’re some tables in the bar area that need clearing.”
Sarah would make a perfect sergeant major, Nina thought as she left the kitchen. The bar was crowded, too, but despite that, Vince came over while she was loading her bus pan.
“You look wiped out,” he said sympathetically.
Nina was about to agree but held her tongue. She didn’t want Joe hearing from his bartender as well as his chef how inadequate she was. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted the dirty plates more energetically.
“I’m managing.” She dropped the plates into the bus pan. “So where’s Joe tonight?” She thought he’d be around, if only to intervene in case she was a complete disaster, but she hadn’t seen him all evening, and that had made her first shift more tiring. If Joe had been there, she’d have made darn sure to not show any hint of exhaustion.
“Thursday night is soccer practice. Joe’s the team captain, so he never misses a session.”
It figured that Joe played soccer. Those long legs and athletic build of his were made for the game. And she wasn’t surprised he was the captain of his team. From what she’d seen, Joe liked directing the action, being in charge. She wondered what he looked like after playing soccer. He’d be all muddy and sweaty, and he’d have to strip off and take a shower… She gave herself a mental slap. Damn, she shouldn’t be fantasizing about her new boss in the shower.
She grabbed her bottle of ammonia and sprayed the cleared table fiercely before attacking it with her cloth.
“You’re enthusiastic.” Vince said. “When your shift’s over, why don’t you stop by for a drink? It should be a lot quieter by then.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
Vince was a nice guy. It would be a pleasant change to chat with him instead of Sarah or Joe. But an hour later, when Sarah finally allowed her to go, all Nina could think about was falling into bed. Her entire body ached, and if she sat down at the bar she was sure she’d collapse headfirst into her drink. After struggling all night to keep up the pretense that she was an experienced worker, she couldn’t let people see her fall to pieces.
And that went for Joe, especially. When she returned to the bar and saw him at the counter talking with Vince, she pinned back her aching shoulders and forced a spring to her step, ignoring her screaming arches. No way would she let him see how wiped out she was.
“How did your first shift go?” Joe gave her a thorough once-over. Those dark brown eyes didn’t seem to miss a thing.
Standing tall, despite the spasm in her lower back, she smoothed away her hair. “I didn’t injure anyone, and I only broke a couple of plates, if that’s what you mean.”
He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. Next to Joe’s spruced-up freshness, she felt even more frazzled. He’d showered, judging by the dampness of his hair, which gleamed like polished ebony. A lustrous lock curled across his forehead. His tanned skin glowed after his exercise, and his jaw was freshly shaven. Her stomach did a weird little flip. Joe looked fantastic and incredibly sexy. A sudden, inconvenient urge to stroke his jaw and smooth back that stray lock of hair ambushed her.
“Great.” He tilted his chin at her boots. “So your feet aren’t killing you?”
“Not at all.” She stuck out one foot and wriggled it around. “I could go clubbing right now.”
“No clubs around here, but we do have alcohol.” He gestured at the bar stool next to him. “Want a drink?”
Oh, boy, did she need a drink. And a seat. But if she sank into that stool, she’d never get up. Worse, she wouldn’t be able to stop ogling or sniffing him. Bad idea.
“I’ll pass.” She shook her head. “Think I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”
“Good idea. We’re expecting a full house tomorrow and there’s a heap of cleaning still to be done. Can you start at seven thirty? Guests sometimes arrive before noon, and I like their rooms to be ready.”
Nina’s feet throbbed in protest. “Seven thirty? No problem. I’ll set my alarm.”
Joe studied her for a few moments, as if he knew that every muscle in her body was crying out for relief. He leaned a little closer. Vince had gone to the other end of the bar, leaving them temporarily isolated.
“Sure you’re coping?” Joe lowered his voice. “You look wrecked.”
For a second she was almost taken in by his sympathy before she wondered if this was a trap. If she admitted her total exhaustion, Joe might use it as an excuse to get rid of her.
“Thank you for your concern,” she said smoothly, “but I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” She turned to go without waiting for his reply.
“Night, Nina,” he said after her. “Have a good rest; you’ll be busy tomorrow.”
The warning note in his tone made her stiffen her aching back as she walked away. Joe Farina would not get the better of her.
Later, it wasn’t Joe but the shower that got the better of her. She’d returned to her dreary room, stripped off her clothes, wrapped herself in a bath towel, and walked down the long, drafty passage to the bathroom. There, under a harsh fluorescent light that made the white-tiled bathroom feel like a mortuary, she’d turned on the faucet, desperately looking forward to a hot shower to ease the kinks from her weary muscles.
The pipes creaked as tepid water dribbled down her back. Impatient, she twisted the hot water tap another inch. The lukewarm trickle persisted. She spun the tap some more and scalding-hot water jetted over her, making her squeal. Joe hadn’t been kidding when he warned her this bathroom wasn’t renovated. She battled with the faucet some more until she had the temperature just right.
She’d just massaged shampoo into her hair and the ache in her back was beginning to ease when, without warning, the hot water cut out. One moment she was warm and relaxed, the next she was attacked by stinging cold water. Startled, she frantically twisted the tap, but freezing water continued to hammer her. Swearing a blue streak, she managed to turn off the water and staggered out of the shower.
Shampoo stung her eyes, she was wet and chilly, and her muscles were once again tied up in knots. She wrapped her towel around her shivering body and sank down on the toilet seat. Her body shook, her chin trembled, and a sob hiccuped out of her. Followed by another, and another, and suddenly she couldn’t stop the sobs bubbling out.
Last night she’d slept at her dad’s golf resort in an executive suite complete with spa bath and an open fireplace. Now she was shivering in a nightmare bathroom with no hot water and only a dreary bedroom and another day of hard labor ahead of her. Why on earth was she doing this? What was she trying to prove to herself…or to Joe? It didn’t matter if he thought she wasn’t up to the job. She’d only met him today; she didn’t need his approval.
This whole “going incognito” stunt was insane and pointless, and she was suffering for no good reason. How stupid could she be? She pushed to her feet, exasperated at her own lunacy, and marched out of the bathroom. Her damp feet slapped on the floor as she tramped down the hall. Just as she reached her bedroom, the door to Joe’s office opened, and Joe stepped out. Instantly her rib cage constricted. She’d assumed this part of the inn was deserted.
He scrutinized her, his face expressionless. “Trouble with the shower?”
She huffed at the wet, soapy strands of hair hanging over her eyes. “You didn’t tell me the inn was haunted. That shower back there is possessed! First it scalded me, and then it tried to drown me in ice water.”
The corners of his lips twitch
ed. “That shower’s only used by employees, and not very often. You just need to jiggle the faucets.”
“No, I’m not jiggling anything because that’s it. I’ve had it.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re quitting already? I thought you’d at least make it through twenty-four hours. What happened to all that turning-over-a-new-leaf shit you were sprouting earlier?”
The edge in his voice made her bristle. “Don’t judge me until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, buddy. You don’t know what I’ve been through today.”
It had been a day from hell. She’d discovered no one appreciated her hard work or thought her capable of anything, and then she’d crashed her car, hatched a stupid, stupid scheme to prove herself, met a man hot enough to melt her bones, worked her ass off, and now she was wet, shivering, and half naked in front of that same hot, infuriating man.
Joe’s shoulders stiffened. “Oh, yeah? Well, let me tell you about my day. I waited hours for you to turn up, and when you finally did, you clearly showed you had no experience. But I let you stay, despite my better judgment and knowing Sarah didn’t approve, and this is how you repay me. By throwing it in my face.”
“Hey, I haven’t thrown anything at anyone. I’ve cleaned your bathrooms, cleared your tables, washed your dishes, let Sarah boss me around. God knows why!”
“For someone with no experience, you sure are picky. You should be grateful for the opportunities you’ve been given.” He exhaled a long breath, as if struggling to hold on to his temper, and held up both hands, palms facing out. “But don’t let me stop you. Frankly, I’m not surprised.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean I knew from the start you didn’t have it in you.”
She pulled the towel tighter around her chest. Joe’s criticism hurt more than it should. He was a stranger, and she shouldn’t care what he thought of her. But, perversely, she did. His words were an echo of the conversation she’d eavesdropped on between her so-called friends. They didn’t think she had it in her to succeed on her own, and Joe shared the same view. And since he didn’t know her true identity, that made it even worse.