While I shampoo my hair, my stomach starts fluttering like crazy. I’ve never been great at talking to strangers, and today I not only have to work with people I don’t know, but I have to help customers. Why did I ever agree to do this? I’m good with food, not with people!
When I’m finally dressed and ready to go, I follow Ellie out the door. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out, Rachel,” she says as she leads me toward the resort. “I think you’ll like the other girls. They’re about your age.”
I almost laugh. Clearly, Ellie doesn’t know much about me if she thinks I’m going to have an easy time making friends.
“Over there is the spa,” Ellie says, pointing at one of the buildings. “Whenever I’m looking a little haggard, I stop in there. Let me know if you’d like me to make you an appointment sometime.”
“Oh…thanks,” I say, wondering if that means I’m looking “haggard.” I’m sure I at least look like a rat drowning in its own sweat. How can it be so hot already when it’s barely past dawn?
As we weave through the resort, Ellie waves and says hello to everyone we pass, like she’s on a parade float. She also knows the names of every employee we see, and she asks them about their spouses or kids or pets. No wonder the resort put her in charge of hiring.
“There’s Mark,” Ellie says as an older man in a gray suit comes out of the main building. “He’s the resort manager and my boss.” She drags me over so we can say hello.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Mark says, giving me a firm handshake. “Your father’s been a great asset here the past few weeks. I’m sure we’ll enjoy having you work for us too.”
“Thanks. You too,” I blurt out. Ugh. Why can’t I say something normal to a stranger for once in my life?
Luckily, Mark doesn’t seem to notice my total awkwardness. Instead, he smiles at me and then turns to Ellie and says, “I have to be off. Someone reported one of the guests practicing fire breathing near the tennis courts. This Renaissance festival was a great idea, Ellie, but I have to admit that I’ll be glad when it’s over.” He chuckles and hurries away.
“Isn’t Mark the best?” Ellie says. “If it weren’t for him, I don’t think I’d still be working here. Any other place would have gotten fed up with me changing jobs all the time, but Mark’s been great about giving me a second chance. And a third, and a fourth!”
A minute later, we round a corner and come to a café right across from a hair salon. “Four Palms Café” the sign says in black-and-pink letters. When we go inside, I’m smacked in the face by the smell of stale coffee and greasy pastries. The place is empty except for a couple of middle-aged men in business suits sipping iced lattes in the corner.
Behind the counter, two girls in black aprons with pink frills are bustling around prepping for the day. Ellie introduces the blond older girl as Carrie, the manager of the café, and the tall girl with the perfect tan as Taylor. Then she tells them that I’ll be helping out for the next few days until she can hire someone long-term.
The girls barely glance up while Ellie’s talking. Even though the place is empty, it seems like they’re expecting a mad rush at any second.
“Now, girls,” says Ellie, her voice even higher and bubblier than normal. “Remember what we talked about. After the, er, incident, it was natural for things to lag a bit, but we can’t let that get us down. There has to be a way to get this place swinging again!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Carrie says in a way that makes me wonder if she’s being sarcastic.
Ellie turns back to me. “If you have any problems, I’m at extension three-five-three.” Then she’s gone, and I’m left alone with two girls who seem not to care that I’m standing here.
Finally, Carrie comes around the counter, eyeing me up and down. “So you’re Ava?” she says finally.
“Uh—”
“Thank goodness you’re here,” Taylor calls over the counter.
“Yeah, ever since Melody got fired, it’s been crazy,” Carrie says. “Anyway, follow me. I’ll show you how to make the croissants.”
“I already know how to make croissants,” I say.
Carrie shakes her head. “They’re really particular about how we do stuff here.”
I follow her to the ovens in the back. Luckily, the air-conditioning is cranking at full blast or I’d never survive. As Carrie chatters on about the pastries and sandwiches the café serves and Taylor rushes around filling coffee urns, I try to take everything in.
It looks like the café doesn’t make anything from scratch. Their pastries are all the premade kind you just pop in the oven, and even their sandwich fillings come prepackaged. Gross.
“Mostly we’ll be having you make the food, but sometimes you might need to jump on a register or help a customer.” Carrie turns to me. “You know how to do all that, don’t you?”
I blink at her.
“So, Ava, do you have any questions?”
I know I should correct her, but I’m totally overwhelmed. At least the food part will be easy, but handling customers? And a cash register? And counting money? I’ve never done any of those things!
Before I can confess how totally clueless I am, Carrie laughs and says, “That’s what I like to hear. Melody was always asking way too many questions. It drove me nuts. Okay, let’s get ready before the breakfast crowd comes.” She shoves an apron in my hands and rushes off.
All I can do is follow.
Chapter 6
After I shadow Carrie for a little while, I start to get the hang of things. I mostly have to put the pastries in the oven and take them out again when the timer goes off. Any robot with oven mitts could do this job.
I taste a cooling croissant and cringe. It’s not awful, but there’s a suspicious aftertaste to it, almost like black pepper.
“Disgusting, right?” Taylor says, seeing my face. “We’re pretty sure all the stuff here is made at a spice factory. The resort must get it at a really good price.”
Carrie snorts. “Too bad no one actually wants to eat donuts that taste like”—she takes a bite—“basil.”
I’m tempted to ask why we can’t make the pastries from scratch, but I don’t want to rock the boat, not when I’m only going to be here for a couple of days.
At around 8 a.m., the breakfast rush starts. Some of the people who bustle into the café are clearly tourists who are staying at the hotel (based on their golf clothes and flip-flops), but most of the customers are resort employees who are there for their morning iced-coffee fix. Pretty soon I’m so busy that I don’t even have time to stress about being surrounded by complete strangers. I’m relieved not to have to touch the cash registers, though. Knowing me, I’d probably accidentally start handing out Monopoly money.
Once the last customer leaves, I’m surprised that most of our pastries are untouched.
“Yeah, we mostly just sell coffee,” Carrie says when I ask her about it. “I keep telling Mark that if we had food people actually wanted to eat, we wouldn’t be losing so much money, but he thinks I’m just complaining.”
“So I have to make all these gross pastries every day even though we know people won’t buy them?” I ask.
“Yup,” she says. “The lunch rush is a little better but still not great. You’d think the fact that the café is on the verge of having to shut down would make them change the way they do things here, but they’re so set in their ways that they don’t want to admit anything is wrong.”
If the café has been serving these weirdly spicy pastries for a while, I’m amazed they’re still open at all.
“So, Ava,” Taylor says, turning to me. “Someone said you just moved here from Texas and that you’re into riding horses.” She positions herself with one hand on the counter and does some balletlike moves. I’m surprised by how graceful she is.
“Oh, um, no. I’m from Massachusetts.”
“Ha!” says Carrie. “See, Taylor? I told you my brother was making things up to mess with you. And you always believe him.”
“No, I don’t!” Taylor says. I can tell by the way she’s blushing that she has a crush on Carrie’s brother, whether she’s willing to admit it or not. She turns back to me. “At least tell me the horseback riding part is true!”
I blink. She looks like she really wants it to be true, but I can’t flat-out lie. “I do like horses,” I say slowly. “But—”
“See?” Taylor flashes Carrie a triumphant grin before I can admit that I’d be too terrified to ever even touch a horse. “Kai was telling the truth about something.”
“Maybe this time,” Carrie says, “but he’s always trying to push people’s buttons.” She glances at me and explains, “Taylor moved here at the start of the summer so she hasn’t realized that my brother is a total freak yet.”
Taylor sighs. “My dad’s been having a hard time finding a job, so we’ve been moving around a lot. We were in Miami at my aunt’s place for a while, but now we’re here.” She does a little twirl that makes her look like a dancing doll.
“Taylor does ballet,” Carrie says. “Isn’t she good?’
I groan inwardly. How am I supposed to tell them the truth when Carrie and Taylor keep switching topics so fast that I can barely keep up?
Taylor stops midspin. “Used to do ballet,” she says. “We can’t really afford it anymore.” She goes off to restock the napkin dispensers, her shoulders stooped.
“So, um, about the horseback riding…” I start to say.
Carrie waves her hand. “I’m not the person to talk to about that. I hate anything with fur. Except for my brother.” She lets out a snort-laugh, which I’m starting to suspect is her trademark. “You’ll probably see Kai later. He works at the smoothie stand by the pool.” She glances at Taylor who still has a far-off look on her face.
I sigh. Forget it. I’m only working here a couple of days. Who cares if these girls think I’m someone else? Besides, how often do I get a chance to hang out with older kids and actually fit in?
“Is Taylor okay?” I say instead.
Carrie shrugs. “It was stupid of me to bring up ballet. Now that her dad can’t afford to pay for classes, she gets really bummed talking about it,” she says. Then her face brightens and she calls out, “Okay, guys, it’s game time.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“When it’s dead in here, we take turns making up games. Yesterday we played Catch the Danish, so we need something new today.”
“Hmmm.” Taylor comes over to the counter, rubbing her chin like she’s stroking an invisible beard. Her mood is a million times lighter than it was a minute ago. “It’s my turn today, so how about, in honor of Ava…” She picks up a wooden spoon and a donut. “Horseshoes?”
“I think you mean Horse Donuts,” Carrie says, laughing. She grabs the spoon and goes to set it up in the middle of the floor.
“Do you own any horses?” Taylor asks me as she picks out some of the stalest donuts to toss.
“Oh, um. Yeah. Two of them,” I blurt out.
Taylor lets out an impressed whistle. “You guys must have a lot of money. Horses are expensive.”
They are? The closest I’ve ever been to a horse is on a carousel. “Oh no, we don’t. We, um, adopted them. From an animal shelter. They were free. We adopted a couple of cats there too. They all live in the barn. Next to the duck pond.”
Whoa. Now I have two horses, some cats, and enough ducks to warrant an entire pond?
Luckily, before I add that I also own a snow leopard, Carrie announces that I have to go first in Horse Donuts.
“I don’t think so,” I say. Hand-eye coordination has never been my thing.
“Come on!” says Carrie. “Have a little fun. Otherwise this job will bore you to death. Trust me, this is my third summer working here. Even before the sinkhole killed our business, it was still really boring most of the time.”
Wow, that means Carrie must be at least seventeen. I don’t think I’ve ever had an actual conversation with an upperclassman before.
“Okay,” I say. After all, I’m hanging out with older girls and managing to blend in. I don’t want them thinking I’m a wuss.
I stand by the counter, take a deep breath, and toss the first donut. It sails right past the spoon and bounces off one of the tables.
Carrie and Taylor burst out laughing. I get into throwing stance again, wiggling my butt like I’ve seen Red Sox players do, which only makes the other girls laugh harder. I can’t help grinning. Usually, Marisol is the only one who gets my goofiness. Well, and my dad, but he and I haven’t been all that in tune recently.
I grab a powdered donut, wind up my arm, and let it go. It wobbles as it flies through the air before it hits one of the café windows, leaving a white imprint on the glass.
“Look, Ava, it’s snowing!” Carrie says.
We’re all giggling as I wind up again, but before I can throw my final donut, the door to the café swings open and Caleb shuffles in.
Chapter 7
Caleb’s eyes laser into me and then go to the donut in my hand and the spoon on the floor. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say, shoving the donut into my apron pocket. I can practically hear Carrie and Taylor listening to our conversation as they go pick up the tossed donuts. “What are you doing here?”
“I have to come to the resort after soccer camp every day until my mom’s done with work. Can I get a cookie?” He points at a chocolate chip one in the display case.
“Are you sure? They taste like curry.”
He shrugs. “I don’t care. I’m hungry.”
As I wrap the cookie in some thin paper, I expect Carrie to ring it up, but she just waves her hand and says, “No charge.” I guess she knows he’s Ellie’s son.
I give Caleb a weak smile as I hand him the cookie. What if the other girls call me “Ava” or start talking about me riding horses? Or what if he calls me “Rachel” in front of them?
Since I’m praying for him to leave, of course, Caleb picks this moment to suddenly get chatty. “Have you seen the people on stilts walking around? They’re going to be in the festival.”
I shake my head.
He chuckles. “They keep falling over.”
“That’s because they don’t know what they’re doing,” Carrie says. “My brother’s one of them. Your mom asked him to do it, even though he’s not trained or anything.”
Caleb shrugs. “Yeah, Mom likes to do stuff like that. Are you guys going to be in the festival?”
“I’m supposed to sell cotton candy,” Carrie says.
“I’m one of the dancers,” Taylor pipes up. “It should be fun.”
“Do you know who’s judging the catapult competition?” he asks.
Both girls shake their heads, making Caleb sigh. “Okay. I should go.” Then he heads for the door, already looking at his iPad again.
As the door swings shut behind him, I let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t accidentally give me away. How do I always get myself into these situations?
“How do you know The Spy?” Carrie says, watching through the window as Caleb disappears around the corner.
“The Spy?” I say.
Carrie rolls her eyes. “Ellie sends him in here to spy on us every couple of days.”
I must look worried because Taylor says, “We don’t think he actually tells her anything. How do you know him?”
“Um, Ellie introduced us this morning. He seems kind of bratty.”
“He’s actually not that bad,” Carrie says.
“Besides,” Taylor adds, “his family is pretty crazy, so you can’t blame him for being a pain.”
“Oh, Ava,” Carrie says. “I think Taylor, Kai, and I are going mini
-golfing tonight. You want to come?”
It takes me a second to realize she’s talking to me. “Tonight?”
“You can see Carrie’s new car,” says Taylor. “She just got it a couple weeks ago and wouldn’t stop talking about it for days.”
Whoa. Carrie has a car? I’ve never been friends with someone with a car. I’ve never even been friends with someone who was old enough to drive!
“I–I wish I could,” I say, and I really mean it. How much fun would it be to drive around with a bunch of older kids? But, of course, I can’t. “Sorry, I have plans later.”
“Maybe tomorrow,” Carrie says. “Ugh, my hair is such a mess today.” She flips her head down and runs her hands through her glossy hair before snapping it back. Somehow that simple move makes her blond waves look even better than they did a second ago.
Taylor puts her arm around my shoulders. “You’re so much more fun than Melody.”
“Wh–what happened to her?” I ask. “Why did she get fired?”
Taylor’s smile fades. “She was caught stealing from the register.”
“Yeah, heads up about that,” says Carrie. “They’re pretty lenient about a lot of stuff here, but stealing isn’t one of them. So watch out, okay?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I say. Not only did I learn my lesson about stealing after I “borrowed” almost three hundred dollars from my college fund, but my dad would never forgive me if I got into trouble while I was here visiting him.
“Melody also lied about stuff all the time,” Taylor says. “Trying to make herself sound a lot more interesting than she actually was.”
“To be honest,” Carrie says, “we couldn’t stand her. You’re definitely an upgrade, Ava.”
I swallow. I know I just met these girls, but already I like them. I don’t want them to hate me for lying to them like they hated Melody. So I bite my lip and try not to look like a big, fat liar.
The Gossip File Page 3