In Over Her Head: An Anchor Island Novel

by Terri Osburn

  Conversations resumed as Lauren went back to the kitchen. Nick lifted the napkin off his lap and left it on his chair as he slid away to catch her.

  “Hey,” he said seconds before she could disappear into the kitchen. “Talk to me for a second.”

  Lauren stopped, but she didn’t look happy. “I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

  “I know you’re busy. I just wanted to say…” What the hell did he want to say? He was sorry? He didn’t mean what he’d said the other night? That was bullshit. He’d meant every word. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m a big girl, Nick. I’m fine.”

  He stepped back with his hands up. “You’re right. You’ve got this.” Unable to resist, he added, “Everyone at the table says the food is great.”

  She shook her head, her jaw tight. “You can stop playing the mentor role now. I don’t need the pep talks anymore. Or anything else.”

  With that parting shot, she returned to the kitchen, leaving Nick standing in the empty corner feeling like a fool. This was his own fault. He’d known the rules, and he’d broken them. Lauren had every right to call him on it.

  Returning to his seat, he kept his head down and pretended he hadn’t just had his ass handed to him.

  “What was that?” Mia whispered.

  “Leave it alone,” he snapped.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Nota said loud enough for everyone at their end of the table to hear.

  Lifting his fork, Nick said, “Nothing, Nota.”

  “Are you seeing Lauren Riley?” Mia asked, making sure their grandmother didn’t overhear this time.

  “No.”

  “Then what was—”

  “Do you want to talk about why you refused to sit in this seat?” he asked through gritted teeth. Mia leaned away, her lips tight. “I didn’t think so.”

  They ignored each other for the rest of the meal, which went on for another hour. Nick wanted to leave as soon as the final dishes were cleared, but Nota was deep in conversation with Patty Dempsey, and Mia was showing off her island mural. Lauren returned to the table one last time to thank them all for coming and asked that if they had any comments could they please forward them to Will at the Destination Anchor offices.

  He had no doubt the reviews would be positive. Pilar’s would be an island staple in no time, and Lauren would be a star among the locals, hating every moment that the spotlight was on her and not her food. Despite what was going on between them, he was proud of her. She was right. Tonight she’d proved that she didn’t need him.

  The problem was that now he needed her.

  17

  “That’s the last of it, Chef,” Jackson said as the team finished the cleanup.

  The dinner had been a success, leaving Lauren both optimistic and exhausted. Serving a full dining room would be more challenging in countless ways, but her staff came through tonight. When a member struggled to keep up, another stepped in to help. When the sauce for the pork loin broke, Dodge whipped up a new one in record time.

  To think, she’d likely still be looking for good cooks if Nick hadn’t intervened and opened her eyes.

  Not that she wanted to think about Nick right now. Lauren had no idea how he’d gotten an invitation to the dinner. He probably thought she’d need him and used his grandmother as a way to weasel his way in. Heaven forbid she handle anything without him.

  That she’d felt a rush of relief when he’d walked in was beside the point. She didn’t want to need him. She couldn’t let herself need him.

  “Are you coming with us?” Mona said, snapping Lauren from her thoughts.

  “Coming where?”

  “To O’Hagan’s. This night calls for a celebration.”

  “What’s O’Hagan’s?” Lauren really should explore the island more.

  “A little dive bar not far from here,” she replied.

  “Come with us,” Deborah added. “The celebration won’t be complete without the team captain.”

  Though tired, Lauren didn’t feel like going home. Especially when Nick might show up unannounced. Avoiding him was childish and cowardly, but the truth was she didn’t trust herself. He’d come too close to breaking through her defenses, and she needed time and distance to build them back up.

  “I’m driving so I can’t drink,” she said.

  “I’m the designated driver,” Axel said.

  “Me, too,” Brit chimed in. “One of us will get you home and then pick you up tomorrow before work. Your car will be fine here overnight.”

  In that case, there wasn’t any reason not to tie one on. “I guess I’m in.”

  Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone drinking with coworkers. Or the last time she’d been invited. She’d always watched everyone pile out of the kitchen at the end of the night, headed for the closest bar, but no one had ever bothered to include her. They either hadn’t thought to ask or hadn’t noticed her absence.

  Lauren climbed into Axel’s VW Bus along with Dodge, Jackson, and three of the waiters. They arrived at O’Hagan’s in a matter of minutes and once inside, she realized Mona had not been joking. The place was a dive bar in the best of ways. Dark, small, and full of character. The decor was mostly neon signs mixed with beach paraphernalia.

  A surfboard leaned against a wall below a Budweiser light. A snorkel mask hung next to a giant bottle cap. The only other theme appeared to be pirates. Pictures of them dotted the walls.

  “What’s the thing with pirates around here?” she asked Deborah as they crossed to a large empty table in the corner.

  “You don’t know?”

  If she knew, why would she ask?

  “I have no idea.”

  “This area was a hangout for Blackbeard, and it’s where he was finally killed. There’s an entire museum dedicated to him on the island, and we have a huge pirate festival every summer.” She pulled out a chair to sit and Lauren did the same. “He’s like a cult hero around here.”

  She wouldn’t call a man known for pillaging and plundering to be a hero, but to each their own.

  “Heya, Dodge,” said the young waitress who approached the table. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  The young man’s blush was evident even in the darkened barroom. “Hey, Stacy. I meant to call but I’ve been busy, what with the restaurant and all.”

  Something told Lauren that was a lie.

  “Sure, buddy.” Turning to the others, she said, “What are we having, folks?”

  “We’ll need to start some tabs,” Mona said. “The boss here is on mine.”

  “I can pay for my own drinks,” Lauren assured her.

  “Not tonight you can’t.”

  Four others spoke up about starting tabs, and then the orders were taken. Lauren considered sticking with beer, but if they were celebrating, she might as well get what she really wanted. When her order arrived, the mix of lime, rum, and fresh mint was perfectly sweet and tart and she knew she’d be having a few more mojitos before the night was over.

  Two hours later, she’d had more than a few.

  “You were awesome,” she told Jackson for the third time. “I mean it. You kept us on track tonight.” Each t was accompanied by spit as she was quickly losing control of her lips. “I might be a little drunk,” she announced.

  “You’re a lot drunk,” Mona informed her as Jackson scratched his belly and laughed. “And so are the rest of us.”

  “Except Axel and Brit,” Penny corrected.

  Lauren tried to focus on the designated drivers, but they were a bit hazy. “Way to take one for the team, guys.”

  “Happy to do it, Chef,” Axel replied.

  “He doesn’t drink,” Penny informed her in a loud whisper. “Says it isn’t good for you.”

  “Very sensible of him.”

  “Last round, y’all,” Stacy said. “Down ’em while you’ve got ’em. The doors close in ten minutes.”

  Well, that was no fun. “We just got
started.”

  “You’re welcome to keep the party going,” the waitress said, “but you’ll have to take it elsewhere.”

  Turning to Mona, Lauren said, “Where else can we go?”

  “Home,” the woman answered. “We’re already going to feel like shit tomorrow. It’s time to sleep this off.”

  Without warning, Lauren was lifted from her chair and plopped onto her feet. Turning, she found Jackson staring at her with a wide grin.

  “What was that for?”

  “You couldn’t get up.”

  “I didn’t get the chance to try.”

  “You tried twice and landed on your butt both times.”

  She had no memory of doing any such thing. A sure sign that Mona was right. Lauren was going to feel like hell tomorrow.

  The group stumbled outside together, Deborah, Mona, and Lauren arm-in-arm. The two ladies were singing a tune Lauren didn’t know so she hummed along. They parted ways, all returning to the vehicles they had arrived in, and before she knew it, Axel was shaking her awake.

  “Chef, I need to know which house is yours.”

  “Oh.” She sat up and wiped drool from her chin. “My cottage is the fourth one on the right.” Looking around, she asked, “How did you know where I live? And where are the others?”

  “I’ve already dropped them off. Jackson told me you live over here on Tuttles Lane, but he didn’t know which house.”

  She couldn’t remember ever telling Jackson where her place was. Lauren rubbed her eyes and realized she couldn’t feel her teeth. How many damn mojitos did she have?

  “Here you go,” Axel said, pulling the van to a stop. Without looking, she opened the passenger door and slid out. “You want me to wait until you get inside?” he asked.

  Anchor Island didn’t exactly have a high crime rate and Lauren wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t find her own front door. “I’ll be fine. You go on home.”

  Smacking her teeth together to wake them up—did teeth even go to sleep—Lauren struggled to drag her keys from her pocket. As Axel drove away, she used the light of her cell phone screen to locate the correct key and stuck it in the lock, but for some reason, it wouldn’t fit. She flipped it over, but still nothing.

  “What the hell?” she said aloud. Using the phone, she checked the key again. This was definitely the right one. Pointing the screen at the doorknob, she bent to get a closer look and tried again. Jiggling the knob, she said, “Why won’t you work, damn it?”

  A second later, the door opened and a deep voice said, “Because this isn’t your house.”

  Blinking, she straightened, squinting to make out the figure silhouetted against a light inside. “Then whose house is it?”

  Nick flipped on the porch light. “Mine. How much did you drink?”

  “How do you know I’ve been drinking?” she asked, slurring her words.

  “Because you smell like rum soaked toothpaste and you don’t know where your own house is.” Stepping back, he said, “Come in and I’ll make you some coffee.”

  Lauren was not walking through that door.

  “I don’t need coffee. And I don’t need you taking care of me.” Losing her balance, she caught herself on the doorframe. “I’ve been taking care of myself since I was nine years old, and I’ll keep taking care of myself without anybody’s help. Including yours.”

  Nick sighed. “You can barely stand up on your own. Let me get my shoes and I’ll walk you home.”

  The man hadn’t heard a word she said. When he disappeared inside, she turned and managed to get down the steps without landing on her face.

  “How many times do I have to tell him? I’m an independent woman. I’ve fought off bullies, creeps, perverts, and handsy dishwashers twice my size. I can damn well walk my own ass a hundred yards down this street.”

  She made it to the edge of his drive when she heard, “You’re going the wrong way.”

  Stopping, she squinted into the darkness. Why didn’t this stupid island have streetlights?

  Gravel crunched behind her as he approached, and her inebriated brain decided this was the time to end things. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, she’d rip Nick Stamatis out of her life once and for all.

  “Where do you get off?” she said, spinning on him and nearly falling over. “You said no relationships. You said we were on the same page. Then you get me into bed and you make me feel things for you that I don’t want to feel and now the page is different. It’s a new page. I don’t like this page.”

  Nick knew better than to have this conversation when she was drunk.

  “Just come inside. You need to sober up.”

  “What I need is for you to stop being so nice to me. And hot. You’re even sexy with your hair messed up like that.” Lauren blinked up at him. “Stop looking like that.”

  The last was said loud enough to echo off the cottages around them and Nick checked the house on his left. Juanita Spencer worked the counter at the island post office and was a main source of village gossip. If he didn’t get Lauren inside soon, they would be the top story for at least a week, and any credibility she had as a head chef would be gone.

  “We can talk about this in the house,” he whispered.

  “I’m not going in there with you!” she shouted, adding a foot stomp to make it a true tantrum.

  A light went on next door and Nick made a split-second decision. Reaching for her arm, he bent and tossed Lauren over his shoulder. She squealed as he booked it for the porch. Right before reaching the door, he heard Juanita come outside and yell, “Hello?”

  Clicking the door shut, Nick set her down in the living room and took a second to catch his breath.

  “What was that?” she squawked, filling the air with the smell of rum. “I told you I didn’t want to come in here.”

  “I just saved your ass from being the lead story of tomorrow’s island gossip. Do you want Pilar’s opening to be overshadowed by how its chef was drunk and waking up her neighbors at two in the morning?”

  Her mouth snapped shut. “I wouldn’t have had a reason to yell if you’d let me go home.”

  “Again, you were going the wrong way.” He waved a hand in front of her face. “Can you even see straight right now?” The motion threw her off-balance and she stepped to the side, arms out like a surfer. “That’s what I thought.”

  Nick crossed to the kitchen and grabbed a coffee pod from the cabinet. Popping the top on the machine, he dropped it in, slid a mug under the nozzle and snapped it shut. Once the coffee was brewing, he snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and the pain pills from the cabinet.

  “Here.” He set both on the island counter. “You’ll probably still feel like shit tomorrow but these should help.”

  “Why do you keep doing this?” she asked, ignoring his offering and remaining near the couch.

  Leaning against the counter behind him, Nick crossed his arms. “Doing what?”

  “Taking care of me.” She had the nerve to look offended.

  “It’s called basic human decency,” he answered, tired and more than a little cranky. “Why didn’t you answer my message?”

  She dropped her eyes to examine the top of a chair. “I was busy.”

  “Bullshit.” When her face jerked up, she swayed again. “Sit down before you fall down.”

  “I didn’t ask to come in here. If I’m bothering you so much, then why didn’t you let me leave?”

  “Because I care about you,” he snapped. “Not that you make it easy. Just sit down and take the pills. Once you drink the coffee, I’ll walk you home and you can go back to pretending there’s nothing between us.”

  Bottom lip extended, she dropped into the chair. “You’re the one who changed the rules. No relationships. That’s what you said.”

  He’d never told her the real reason for that statement, but regardless, she was right. He’d changed the rules. Maybe the rules needed to be changed, but that was not something they would resolve in her current condition.
>
  “We’re not having this conversation while you’re drunk.” Nick put the coffee on the table in front of her, then opened the pill bottle and set it and the water beside the mug. “Do yourself a favor and take the medicine.”

  Lowering onto the couch, Nick ran his hands over his face with a sigh. This was not how he’d seen his night going, but at least Lauren had landed at his door instead of Juanita’s. He watched her take the medicine, then sit back with the coffee mug cupped in her hands. Her eyes were fixed on something in the distance and it took several seconds for him to notice the silent tears.

  Assuming the alcohol was the cause, he said, “Things will look better in the morning. Just drink the coffee.”

  “I don’t like this feeling,” she mumbled.

  “Then you probably shouldn’t drink again.”

  “I don’t like needing you.”

  That was not what he expected. “Needing me?”

  “I can’t depend on you,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I can only depend on myself. That’s what Mom taught me.”

  Understanding how easy it was to believe a false narrative, Nick said, “Your mom was wrong, Lauren. Humans weren’t made to go through life alone. You showed me that.”

  As if hearing his voice for the first time, she cut her gaze his way. “I did what?”

  “After years of believing that love wasn’t worth the risk, you walked into my life. And like all the times before, I thought something casual would be enough. That we’d have some fun and move on.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But every time we’re apart, all I can think about is when I’ll see you again.”

  Another tear rolled down her cheek. “You’ll walk away,” she whispered. “Everyone walks away.”

  “Not everyone.” Nick got up and offered a hand. “Come to bed, Lauren. If you want to leave in the morning, I won’t ask you to stay. And if you don’t want to see me again, I’ll respect your wishes. But for now, just come to bed.”

  Eyes wide, she stared up at him. Every thought traveled across her face. Doubt. Fear. Longing.

  “I just want to hold you,” he assured her.