Spring Fling Kitty: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 3)

by Rachelle Ayala

  “You’re so slow.” Elaine snickered, glancing at her Apple watch. “I have to get going, but we’re going to ask Nadine to help us have our babies.”

  “She’s going to be the egg donor?”

  Elaine heaved an impatient sigh. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? She’s going to be the surrogate mother and the egg donor. We’ll impregnate her with your sperm, and the baby will be your biological child, just like you always wanted. I really have to go, but wanted to run it by you before I propose it to her. Oh, and she’s in need of a job, so I figured this could be a multiyear contract until we finish our family. My father couldn’t possibly kick her out of her apartment if she’s helping me, now could he?”

  With a quick kiss and a pat, Elaine tottered out of Connor’s office. Duty done. At least she informed him before she went ahead with the project.

  She left out one important detail. The actual sperm transfer process. Was Elaine going to be in the middle of it, or would he get to do it naturally?

  His body pumped up at the thought, but instead of relishing the job, Connor buried his head in his hands, feeling a headache starting up.

  Nadine might not agree. He hoped she wouldn’t agree. But if they went through with it, why would he need Elaine to mother his and Nadine’s child?

  Chapter Seven

  Nadine had eaten at most of the hole-in-the-wall restaurants in her neighborhood, so she had a nodding acquaintance with the owners and servers. However, approaching them as a customer was a lot easier than as a job hunter.

  Since she had to look presentable, she wore a conservative long skirt, flat pumps, and a white blouse. She’d also scrubbed her hands free of paint, gave herself a manicure, and stripped the multiple rings and bracelets from her hands and wrists.

  Her first stop was a Vietnamese deli and noodle shop. She knew some of the servers there, since her mother loved the banh mi sandwiches, crispy French bread filled with delicious meats and vegetables. Besides, there was a sign saying “Servers Needed.”

  The manager, a middle-aged woman about four feet tall, looked up from her paperwork. “Sure, we need waitresses. Do you speak Vietnamese?”

  “No, but I know the basics, pho, banh mi, boba tea, che,” Nadine replied.

  “We have over one hundred items on the menu.” The manager, whose nametag said “Qui,” handed Nadine a menu full of brightly-colored photos of everything from sandwiches to noodle soups, rolls, flavored milk tea, and colorful drinks. “Know the difference between Bun Ca Chua Suon and Banh Mi Cha Ca Chien? How about Goi Cuon Chay and Canh Ga Kho?”

  “Uh, well, I can find them if they order by number.”

  “True, most customers point to the picture and number, but the guys in the kitchen, not so much.” Qui blinked and shook her head. “We do need help, because as soon as we open, we have lines out the door. We’re very popular.”

  “I’m sure I can handle it,” Nadine replied, rubbing her hands.

  “Great, we have twenty minutes before opening. I want to give you a test.” Qui scrutinized Nadine’s attire. “It would probably be better if you wore jeans instead of that long, flowing skirt. We serve a lot of soup here and you’ll be cleaning a lot of splatters. We have a t-shirt with our logo on it for you to wear, and you’ll also need a waist apron where you keep your order pads and pen.”

  “Great. What’s the test?” Nadine squinted at the hundred item menu, desperately memorizing the few Vietnamese words she knew, ga for duck, or was that chicken? Che for dessert with so many possible ingredients it made her head spin.

  “Don’t worry about the menu,” Qui said. “Come to the back.”

  They slid past the other servers who were setting the the tables and continued into the kitchen where Qui instructed her to set her purse down and put on an apron.

  Nadine tied her hair back and wiped her hands on the apron. Cooks scurried around chopping vegetables while others prepared broth.

  “Follow him,” Qui said. She barked orders in Vietnamese to one of the busboys, then walked off.

  “This shouldn’t be hard,” the busboy said. He filled five large bowls with water and set them on a tray. “Take this tray from the kitchen and serve the bowls on the first table by the door.”

  Nadine picked up the tray, and the water sloshed over the sides of the bowls. It was surprisingly heavy. She had no clue how she was going to heft it to her shoulder.

  “You’ll need one of these tray stands so you can set the tray down to serve the soup bowls,” the busboy explained. “Also, it gets crowded in there, so make sure you have room to set the stand down.”

  “I’m supposed to carry both of these?” Nadine lifted the tray with the bowls of water onto her shoulder, as the busboy handed her a wooden foldout tray stand.

  “Okay, let’s go. Qui wants to see if you pass the serving test.” The busboy smiled brightly. “Go, go, go.”

  Nadine wobbled out of the kitchen, aware that she was spilling some of the water. The tables and chairs were empty, but the aisles were narrow. She turned the corner to the first set of tables and hit her head on the side of the hanging TV stand.

  Nadine’s feet went out from under her, and the tray and five bowls of water splattered all over the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” Nadine exclaimed. “I didn’t see the TV stand.”

  “We usually don’t have any trouble with that,” the busboy said. “But then, you’re as tall as a giraffe. I should have told you to duck. I’m sorry.”

  He looked entirely too amused to be truly sorry.

  Qui rushed over with a towel. “I told you you’ll be wiping up a lot of spills. Forgot to say you pay for what you break.”

  “You’re lucky that wasn’t hot soup poured over a customer,” the busboy added.

  By now, the rest of the staff had gathered around. With tears burning behind her eyelids, Nadine picked up the broken pieces and placed them on the tray. “I’ll pay for all this and clean up the mess.”

  “Or come back and wash dishes,” Qui said. “On second thought, you might break more than you clean.”

  No one helped Nadine get up from the floor. She pushed herself up and picked up the tray. “Where’s the mop? I’ll get this all cleaned up.”

  She followed the busboy to the broom closet, while the other servers laughed and giggled about her accident, taking bets on how many plates and dishes Nadine would break.

  “I’m sorry,” Qui said as Nadine cleaned up the mess. “I should have specified that I wanted an experienced waitress. Maybe you should tend bar somewhere. Then you can stay safely behind the counter.”

  “Sure, thanks.” Nadine took off the apron and rummaged through her purse. “How much for the bowls?”

  “A twenty should cover it,” Qui said. “Good luck.”

  Thoroughly mortified, Nadine ducked out of the Vietnamese deli. Too bad. She could never show her face there and enjoy any of the sandwiches or desserts ever again.

  She headed down the street looking for “Help Wanted” signs. A honky-tonk bar, The Deep Dive, had a faded one, so she stepped inside to inquire. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the cramped dark bar, occupied at noontime by a few patrons who eyed her up and down with undisguised curiosity.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender greeted her. He threw a dingy towel over his shoulder and grinned broadly.

  “I’m inquiring about the help wanted sign?”

  “You want to buy the sign?” He tented his eyebrows while his lips twisted to one side. He was an older guy with sleek silver hair, a handlebar mustache, and forearms covered with tattoos.

  “Actually, I’m wondering if you need any help.”

  “Young sweetheart like you, whatever you’re offering, I’m buying.”

  The two customers, both geriatric-aged, guffawed.

  “I’m looking for a job.” Nadine felt her cheeks heat as she looked around the dive bar, all dark and scuffed wood paneled with a surplus of beer signs on
the wall and Asian good luck charms, primarily plastic Buddhas and fortune cat statues on the counter.

  “Ever tend bar?”

  “Uh, no, but I can learn.”

  “Wait tables? Got any references?”

  “I’m sure I can take orders and serve.” As long as it wasn’t multiple bowls of soup.

  The bartender leered at her, his mustache twitching. “I could use someone like you. Did you hear that, Manny? She can take orders and serve.”

  The two customers snuffled with laughter.

  “Didn’t know you’re running that kind of establishment,” one of the customers, presumably the one named Manny, said. “Let’s try her on for size.”

  “Yeah, size,” the other customer said. “I’ll have an eight-inch sub. Think you can fit that in, girly?”

  “I’ve a head or two that need cleaning,” the bartender chimed in. “Oh, sorry, I meant toilet—old nautical term, har, har.”

  The stench of stale beer mixed with greasy pizza and rank hamburgers turned Nadine’s stomach almost as much as the thought of the ancient bar’s bathroom. Maybe The Deep Dive wasn’t the place for her, particularly since she couldn’t relate to the aged clientele and their off-color jokes.

  “I’m sorry I asked,” Nadine muttered as she backed out the door. The bright sunlight blinded her, and she tripped over a skateboard. Before she hit the ground, a pair of hands grabbed her.

  “Watch where you leave your skateboard, kid,” the man who caught her said to a teenager, then turned to her. “You okay? Oh, it’s you.”

  He righted her and let go of her arm like she was a live wire or covered with radioactive dust. It was the hot, young fire chief, Connor Hart.

  Could he make it any more obvious that he loathed touching her? Oh, it’s you, echoed in Nadine’s ears. Meanwhile her body tingled and hummed from his touch. Could the universe be so unfair?

  “Yeah, well, thanks for catching me,” Nadine mumbled. “Kid shouldn’t have left his skateboard on the sidewalk.”

  “So, what are you up to?” The chief narrowed his eyes and took in her red pinpoint polka dotted skirt topped with her signature wide belt with the cat face silver buckle with turquoise eyes.

  “Looking for a job.” Nadine shaded her eyes and looked down the street. “Is there a law against it?”

  “Nope, you’re fine. Good luck. Just watch where you’re going.” Connor retreated across the sidewalk which was teeming with shoppers and tourists.

  “Watch out.” Nadine reached out and yanked Connor from the path of a man on a hoverboard. “You should practice what you preach, Fire Chief.”

  “Sorry, dude,” Connor said to the young man and wiped his hand across the back of his neck. “Got me there. We’re even, and have a nice day.”

  He regarded her with those murky blue eyes, nervously darting from side to side, clearly awkward with her having saved him.

  “It’s no big deal, really.” Nadine dropped her hand from his arm and shifted from foot to foot. “You’re actually ahead on the saving bit, two to one, so I’d like to thank you. Maybe we could …”

  She swallowed a deep breath and checked his ring finger. All clear. She’d never asked a guy out before, and he was way out of her league, but sometimes one had to help fate out a bit.

  “Yeah, it’s no big deal, just part of my job. Public safety and all that.” He nodded and touched the edge of his nonexistent helmet. “See you around.”

  “Wait. Don’t you want to know my name? I owe you a cup of coffee.” She pointed to the Love Bean Coffee Shop across the street. “They serve a mean espresso.”

  Connor’s eyes crinkled and one side of his face turned upward in a crooked grin. “Are you hitting on me?”

  “Uh, no, I just want to, never mind.” Nadine felt herself flush with all sorts of heat, welcome and unwelcome. “I’m tempting fate and I should leave you alone. I won’t be climbing trees or tripping over skateboards, so I’ll just back away slowly and carefully and …”

  Connor reached out and took her hand. “Hey, I’m teasing you. Let’s get that cup of coffee and you can tell me all about yourself.”

  Chapter Eight

  Connor was in big trouble the moment he took Nadine’s hand. Sure, he’d caught her in his arms before, extracted her from a tree, and even held her close, but that was in an official rescuing capacity.

  This? Plain wrong. He’d seen her check out his ring finger, and while he wasn’t wearing a ring, at least not yet, he had spent a big chunk of his savings on a ring that was adorning Elaine’s finger.

  But Nadine’s hand felt so right in his, and every time he glanced at her, she returned his gaze with eyes that both saw through him and looked up to him. It was the same adoring look his Dalmatian puppy, Cinder, showered him with—only Nadine was bewitchingly beautiful.

  Now that he knew her background, he could see how she was the perfect mix of Asian and Caucasian features. She had a long nose and thin eyebrows, slanted eyes with that mysterious color between green and brown, and a pale complexion with a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

  Her stride matched his and she was only a few inches shorter than him, with mile-long legs and a thin-lipped smile that would last a lifetime.

  “Watch out.” Nadine pulled him back from the curb as a motorcycle zoomed around the corner. “Now we’re even.”

  Dang. He’d been too mesmerized by the woman at his side—the one who’d soon be carrying his baby, if Elaine got her way.

  And Elaine usually got exactly what she wanted.

  “Yep, we’re even,” Connor said. “I’m usually not this accident prone. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

  “Or maybe you should watch where you’re going, instead of staring at me.” Nadine raised an eyebrow and winked.

  He was really in trouble now. That wink and smirk made him focus on her lips and how kissable she was, and how he wouldn’t even have to bend over to kiss her—just move in.

  “Absolutely. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but you remind me of someone I know.” He swallowed hard and ripped his gaze away from the forbidden fruit. He was an engaged man, and he, sooner than later, would have to let Nadine know.

  “I do, huh?” Nadine’s voice took on a teasing lilt. “Is my face really so common? Can you guess my ethnic background?”

  They arrived at the Love Bean, the friendly neighborhood coffee shop next door to a Mexican grocery store. It was a holdout from the sixties, low-key and a perfect place to do homework or people watch.

  Connor opened the door for Nadine and ducked under a macramé hanging. A Bob Marley poster hung next to one of Albert Einstein sticking out his tongue. The barista behind the counter wore dreadlocks, and Joan Baez’s sultry voice spilled from the speakers along with the twanging sitar accompaniment. The scent of incense swirled with that of fresh roasted coffee and fresh baked bread.

  “Not going to answer?” Nadine gave his hand a squeeze. “I haven’t told you my name and you don’t seem curious. Who do I remind you of?”

  “Must be a Miss Universe contestant.” Connor stalled, not wanting to spoil the moment.

  “You’re teasing again.” Nadine ran her tongue across her wide smile. “Which country?”

  “Latin America?” Connor pretended to squint and study her. If he let on that he already knew her name and who she was, she’d think he was a creeper—hitting on his fiancée’s sister.

  “That’s not a country.” Nadine idly wandered to the counter displaying the pastries and looked at the menu board. “But it’s a fair guess. Lots of people think I’m Latina or Native American.”

  The barista wiped his hands with a towel. “Playing hard to get again, Nadine?”

  “Hey, I was going to make Fire Chief Hart guess my name,” Nadine said to the barista. “Don’t tell him my background.”

  The barista chuckled. “You’re not a rare bird around here in San Francisco.”

  “Actually, she’s one in seven billion,” Connor cut in. “Th
e rarest bird of all, unique, gorgeous, and high-spirited.”

  “Not to mention talented, charming, and a klutz.” The barista was obviously on friendly terms with Nadine.

  “True, that,” she said, widening her eyes. “Connor here’s rescued me twice.”

  “She’s rescued me twice, too.” Connor said.

  “Third time’s the charm,” the barista said. “What are you two having? Other than a double shot of hearts on the rocks.”

  “Double espresso for me,” Nadine said, blushing at the barista’s comment.

  “Same for me.” Connor’s throat tightened. The charade would soon be over, and real life, namely Elaine’s grand plan, would intrude. It didn’t look like Nadine knew a thing about it.

  They were still holding hands. He hadn’t even noticed until he reached for his wallet to pay. Letting go reluctantly, he flashed Nadine an apologetic smile.

  “Oh, let me pay,” Nadine said. “I’m the one who initiated this.”

  “No, I’m the one who wants to know all about you.” He couldn’t help the husky tone of his voice as he handed a twenty to the barista, his eyes never leaving Nadine.

  Her greenish-brown eyes dilated. “The feeling’s mutual. I know this is awkward, but I feel as if our paths were meant to cross—that we’ll be something to each other. I don’t know why, except I don’t want to scare you away.”

  “I’m not scared.” He cupped his hand over hers. He had to let her down gently. Hers was a soul full of life and innocence. Her straightforwardness and willingness to put her ego on the line was precious—a girl without guile—so opposite Elaine who was as full of strategies as a master politician. “Come, let’s find a table.”

  He pulled a chair for her, and she swept her skirt forward before sitting down. Her ladylike demeanor was polar opposite to the tomboy image she’d portrayed when climbing the tree.

  “How’s Grey Hart?” he asked, suddenly remembering her cat.

  “He’s a playful bundle of fur. Got into my mom’s vintage fringe jacket. What a brat. He was a stray and used to fending for himself. Very independent.”