by Marta Brown
Ridiculous? Either she’s kidding. Or blind. Or both.
And did she just say naked?
My mind scrambles faster than the eggs Big Pop is working on as I try to stop thinking about Katie being naked, right in front of Katie, because, come on. I am a guy.
“I… guess you have a point there,” I finally manage to sputter out and then head to the fridge to grab some strips of bacon, getting a quick blast of cold air to help clear my mind.
Katie grabs an apron from off the hook next to the fridge and slips it on over her head. She nudges me in the side. “Hey, thanks for not teasing me. The last thing I need is my best friend telling me what I already know. I look—”
“Really, really pretty.”
“Oh, great.” Katie tosses her hands in the air. “Grandma got to you, too.”
…
With my face burning, I press my lips into a tight line to keep from blurting out anything else I’ll regret as Katie ties on her apron and then heads into the dining room.
“You know the saying ‘if you can’t stand the heat, get outta the kitchen?” Big Pop asks when I turn back to the griddle, the knowing grin on his bearded face making the kitchen feel hotter by the second.
I raise my brows, like I’m wondering where he’s going with this, despite having a pretty good idea. I’m an idiot. “Yeah?”
“Let’s just say, you look like you need more than just a dose of cool air from the chill freezer. So, how about you go on and get out of the kitchen and let me finish up in here?”
You don’t have to ask me twice. Nodding, I slip out of the kitchen and into the dining room, unsure if he was giving me a hard time about essentially blushing after calling his granddaughter pretty, or if he was genuinely concerned I was overheating.
Either way, I’m relieved to be out in front, with the cool sea breeze blowing in through the huge open windows, and also because I get to hang with Katie some more—that is until I see Brad, his brother Trevor, and a man who looks exactly like an older version of the two boys put together, come strolling in.
Shit. I thought yesterday when Brad said he was going to come in today, he was just trying to get in my head and screw with me, but by the way he’s checking Katie out, I’m pretty sure I’m not the one he’s trying to screw around with.
I let out a low, deep growl. Over. My. Dead. Body.
“I got this one,” I say to Katie, although it comes out as more of a bark as I grab three menus from behind the counter and head in their direction. “Table for three?”
“It’s actually going to be four,” Brad says with a smug smirk, taking the menus out of my hands and sitting down in the chair like he’s about to watch a movie instead of eat breakfast.
“Yes, the rest of our party should be here soon,” the older man says in a way less douchey tone than Brad or Trevor, but still with an ounce of smarmy. But then again, that might just be the unbuttoned pastel blue polo shirt, patch of chest hair, and gold link chain around his neck speaking. Or the overwhelming amount of cologne he’s wearing. Probably both.
“Sure thing. I’ll grab another menu and some waters and be right back.”
“Thanks, son.” The guy smiles, showcasing his overly bleached teeth, and reminding me of a game show host—only tanner, if that’s even possible.
Heading back towards Katie, who is busy wiping down the front counter, I catch her steal a glance in Brad’s direction, but when I peer over my shoulder to see if Brad caught it too, I realize it’s not Brad, but my mom who Katie is smiling at.
“Hi ya, kiddos,” Mom says after swinging open the wide, wooden doors to the restaurant and giving us both a big wave.
“Oh, hey, Mom.”
“Hi, Mrs. Hayes,” Katie says excitedly at seeing Mom for the first time since getting here. She gives her a big hug.
“Katie, girl. I have known you since you were eight years old, and you, and this one over here,” she gestures to me with a smile, “would build sheet forts and have sleepovers in the middle of my living room floor. So, when on this green earth are you going to stop making me insist every single summer that you call me Susan?”
Katie digs her hands into the back pockets of her sister’s jean shorts and gives my mom an embarrassed smile—the same one she gives her every year they have this conversation. “I know, I know. Next year, I promise.” Katie laughs at her and Mom’s yearly routine.
“Now let me take a look at you, missy.” Mom takes Katie’s shoulders in her hands and extends her arms away from her. “You are positively adorable. You look so grown up. I could have mistaken you for your sister.” A rush of pink floods Katie’s cheeks as Mom spins her around in a circle to get a better look. “Cute, cute, cute,” Mom says, finally letting Katie go, but not before pressing her pointer finger to Katie’s nose like she’s pushing a button. “You, my dear, are going to break some serious hearts this summer.”
Katie lets out a snort before giving my mom another hug. “Well, it’s obvious someone’s blood sugar must be low. How about I get Pop to whip you up a plate?” Katie jokes, deflecting the attention from herself… like always.
“If you say so, cutie.” Mom laughs. “Just as long as it’s not my Ollie’s heart you’re break’n, then I’m fine with it.”
This time, I’m the one who snorts as I try to distract Katie from seeing my mom shoot me a not-so-subtle wink. “Okaaaaay, I think Katie might be right.” I grab a menu and move towards the dining room. “Let’s get you some food before you completely start to lose it.”
“Oh, you two,” Mom says, shaking her head with a smile. “One of these days—”
“You’ll sit down and order?” I interrupt, not knowing where Mom is about to go with that thought and not willing to find out.
“Relax, I’m going to eat.” Mom glances over at the table where Brad, Trevor, and who I assume is their dad are sitting, giving them a small wave before mouthing ‘be right there.’
What the hell?
“I have another working lunch for the cross promotion,” she says quickly as way of explanation, probably due to the unvoiced question written all over my face.
Wait. That means Brad isn’t here to flirt with Katie. He’s here on family business for Garrison and Son’s Aquatic Rentals. A rush of relief floods my veins. “Oh, well, don’t let us keep you from business.”
“No, no. It’s fine. I was actually hoping to catch the two of you. I wanted to invite you both to the hotel’s promotional kickoff gala tonight. It’s going to be on an eighty-foot yacht, with catered food, an open bar, and a live band. The works. And everyone participating in the promotion is invited, so it won’t just be a bunch of old folks, I promise.”
Ugh. A gala. Not exactly my scene and definitely not Katie’s. At least that’s what I would have bet money on until I glance at Katie for backup before telling Mom we pass, and she actually looks excited. Well, kind of excited, kind of terrified.
I lift my brows in her direction. “Really? A gala?”
Katie buries her hands deeper into her back pockets, looks down at her feet, and then back up at me through her long, dark lashes. “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Aren’t you the one who told me I should try to channel Jess and have some fun?”
“Well, yeah. When it comes to kite surfing—not parties that require formal attire.”
Katie’s eyes go wide, like that hadn’t dawned on her. “Oh. No, you’re right. I don’t think I have anything like that to wear, so I guess… count us out.”
Whew. Party averted.
I start to offer Katie a relieved smile to let her know we just dodged a long night of boring, when I see the disappointment on her face and I stop short. Is she serious? I mean, I can see Megan, Jessica, or even my mom being disappointed about missing an opportunity to get all dressed up and go to a fancy party, but never Katie. And why now?
With a quick glance over my shoulder at the impatient sound of a throat being cleared behind me, I get my answer.
Everyone in
the competition is going. Including Brad.
Chapter 9
Katie
Why again did I agree to go to a party? And not just agree, but practically twist Oliver’s arm in order to go to the kickoff gala?
Oh yeah. Brad Garrison’s smile.
Staring into the closet lined with skintight dresses and sky-high heels, I let out a ragged breath as my palms sweat and my heart beats double time. And that’s just trying to pick out an outfit to wear for the night. I flip through the dresses again, analyzing hem lengths, necklines, colors, and cuts before spinning around and falling into a heap on the bed, seriously questioning the sanity of my past self. Who in the hell was that girl?
Oh yeah. The girl Brad Garrison was smiling at.
“Did someone say fairy godmother?” Oliver’s sister Megan says from the doorway of my bedroom, scaring me half to death.
“How did you know?”
“Oliver told me you guys would be there tonight and since Jessica and I always get ready together before we go out, I thought I’d come over and continue the tradition. And good thing. You look like you’re about to walk the plank instead of go to a party with an open bar that’s sailing into international waters. Where the drinking age is eighteen, I might add.”
I let out a shaky breath. “You have no idea.”
Megan tosses back her shoulder-length, sandy-brown hair and laughs. Her infectious attitude reminds me not only of my sister, but also that we’re talking about a party. One I volunteered for, and not only because of Brad Garrison and his sexy smile, but also because of Oliver, too.
He was right yesterday. I should try to channel Jessica, have some fun and relax a bit. I mean, if I have to wear her clothes for the next ten days, I might as well try out her life while I’m at it, right? And Jessica would never say no to a party.
“So, what can I help you do? Hair? Makeup? You name it.”
Embarrassed to admit being my sister in theory is easy—just relax, have some fun, and wear cute clothes—I bite my lip, because being Jess in actuality is not quite as easy as it looks. “Everything?”
Megan rakes her eyes over my face, probably trying to decide if I’m kidding or not before she jumps into action. The answer’s clear. I’m not kidding. At all.
In a whirlwind of flat irons, curling wands, hairspray, and something called a poof, I spin around twenty minutes later and face the mirror, surprised to see my normally long, straight, blonde hair pulled half up and styled in soft waves that cascade down my back and shoulders. “Wow.” I let out a breath.
“I know, right?” Megan says as she spritzes one last piece of hair into place with a grin. “But it doesn’t hurt you have, like, the healthiest, most gorgeous hair I’ve ever seen.”
“Really?” I arch my brow, skeptical since I’ve never done anything special to it. Unlike my sister, who really does have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen—always perfectly cut, colored, and styled to look like she didn’t put in any effort at all.
“Yes, really,” Megan repeats, fluffing my curls so they’re just right and then stepping back to admire her hard work. “Okay, makeup time.” She taps her finger against her chin as she looks me over, making me even more self-conscious than normal under her scrutiny. “Nude, smokey, or bold?”
Nude? Smokey? Bold? What?
“None of the above?” I scrunch my nose at her in the mirror, since I have no idea what in the world she’s talking about. “How about fully dressed, tobacco free, and timid… because those are much better words to describe me.”
Megan lets out a loud snort, and by the way she rolls her eyes, I think she thinks I’m kidding. I’m totally not.
“Smokey and bold. Got it.”
“But I—”
“I know.” She smiles as she digs through Jessica’s makeup bags. Yes, bags. As in plural.
After using something that looks like a hot pink neon Easter egg to blend the foundation on my face and ‘even out my complexion,’ Megan grabs a long, rose-gold box with the word NAKED3 embossed across the lid out of the bag that contains mostly eye shadows, eyeliners, and even a couple of boxes of fake eyelashes.
“I thought I was clear before. Remember,” I hesitate, pointing to myself, “prefers fully dressed.”
“Relax.” Megan laughs, flipping open the thin box and revealing a dozen different eye shadows ranging from a nude, pale pink all the way to a deep, dark black. “It’s just an eye shadow palette, not a state of dress. Although…” she says, dusting my eyelids with a mauve color while wearing a wicked smile. “If I do my job, you’ll be getting naked all right.”
I choke out an embarrassed laugh as a flush of heat rises up my neck, across my cheeks, and manages to steal any possible response I can come up with along with my voice.
“Well, I guess we won’t need to bother with blush now,” Megan teases as she lines my lids in jet black, and then brushes a coat of mascara onto my lashes. “I’m kidding about the naked part… unless you want to, of course.” She winks. “But seriously, why hasn’t Jessica taught you all this stuff yet? She’s like a pro when it comes to makeup and hair.”
And boys, parties, clothes, and fun.
“I don’t know.” I shrug as Megan swirls a big, fluffy brush into a bright pink compact and then sweeps it across my cheeks. “She’s tried for years, but what’s the point? No amount of makeup is going to change the fact I’m not the kind of girl guys want to date. I’m the kind of girl guys want to tutor them in math.”
“That is so not true. I know of one boy—”
“Katie, Oliver is here,” Big Pop calls out from downstairs, cutting Megan off and sending me into a complete panic. I haven’t even picked out a dress, and there’s no way Megan can be done with my face yet.
“Here, wear this.” Megan tosses me a dress. Without stopping to check which one she’s thrown me, I slip the silky black number on over my head and spin around to see how much longer she needs to finish my makeup.
I gasp at the girl staring back at me in the mirror, suddenly getting it. Smokey, nude, and bold is a perfect way to describe me at the moment. Imposter is another.
“Wow, you look…”
“Like my sister?”
“I was going to say gorgeous.”
Glancing one last time in the mirror, I can’t believe my own eyes, and what’s more, I actually believe Megan, too. I do look gorgeous. Different, but gorgeous.
“One last touch,” Megan says, handing me a pair of dangly, silver earrings that look like diamond droplets falling like rain before she stands back and admires her handiwork. Which she should, since no amount of YouTube tutorials could have helped me pull off this look on my own. “Perfect.”
“Hey, you know the boat will actually take off without us, right?” Ollie calls up the stairs, followed by the sound of Big Pop’s loud, rambunctious laugh.
“All right,” I yell down at my impatient best friend. “Just give me one more minute.”
I pull in a deep breath as Megan spritzes my curls with a soft pink perfume that smells like apple blossoms and summer. “Perfume in my hair?” I question, even though I shouldn’t since she obviously knows what she’s doing.
A playful grin washes over Megan’s face before she spritzes the air with the perfume and beckons me to walk through the mist. “Yep.”
I arch my brow, expecting more of an answer but getting nothing but a wink from her.
“You’re ready, girl. Now, knock’em dead.”
“Thank you so much. I never could have pulled this off without you,” I say, grabbing the small clutch from the vanity and then giving Megan a hug before rushing out of the room. Ready to either get this night started or to get it over with. I’m just not sure which one, yet.
Stopping at the top of the stairs, I take a deep breath and glance back at Megan as she leans against my doorjamb like a proud parent. “Wait. You never finished what you were saying earlier.”
“What?” Megan’s forehead creases in confusion.
/>
“You said you know of one boy…”
“Oh yeah, that.” A smile flashes across her face. “I was just saying I know one thing—no boy is going to mistake you for a math tutor tonight.”
I smile back at my fairy godmother and hope she’s right.
Chapter 10
Oliver
I don’t know how after all these years of crushing on my best friend that I’m still surprised when she takes my breath away. You’d think I’d learn. But as I stand slack-jawed at the bottom of her grandparent’s staircase, I’m blown away again.
And I thought she looked good in that little yellow sundress.
“You need some help with that, bub?” Big Pop asks, jokingly pressing a finger under my chin to help close my mouth. “I’m not sure drooling all over the girl is gonna get you any closer to make’n her yours,” he whispers before shooting me a stealthy wink.
Clearing my throat and hoping she didn’t hear any of Big Pop’s sound advice, I nudge him in the gut. “I’ll try and remember that. Thanks.”
“Come to think about it, kid.” Pop lets out a deep belly laugh. “No drooling on my granddaughter ever—even if you do manage to make her yours. You got it?” he says sternly, despite the wide smile wrinkling the skin around his eyes.
“Got it.” I nod while returning his smile.
“Got what?” Katie asks, making her way down the stairs in a pair of heels I’d bet money she couldn’t walk in, but she manages perfectly.
Pop clamps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a strong, but friendly squeeze. “Ah, just letting Oliver here know that your curfew is two o’clock and not a minute later.”
Katie’s eyes widen. “Two? In the morning?”
Gerald anchors his fists on his sides, most likely expecting blowback from Katie about having a curfew—since I’m sure Jessica wouldn’t agree to one without at least putting up a fight—but instead, she busts out laughing. Probably because she’s never been out past midnight.