Georgie zipped up her jacket. Down by the water, the sun shed more light than heat.
They sat facing the waves, their plates on their laps, still saying little.
“What were you studying at school?” he finally asked.
“I was still deciding between English and humanities.” She bit her lip. “Or maybe even law. I was TA-ing a literature class. That was fun.” She had never been sure or felt the spark that some of her roommates had felt about their majors.
Tyler swallowed the bite of apple he’d been chewing. “So after the accident, did you have to drop your classes or are you finishing them long distance or what?”
“I had just finished spring semester. I stayed a couple weeks longer for a wedding.” She gazed back out at the water. “The accident happened after that. I wasn’t ready to go back in the fall.” She still wasn’t. She wasn’t comfortable with where these questions were going. But, awkward as the date had been so far, she realized she wasn’t trying to impress him. And that was a relief.
They set down their plates, drawing the attention of the hovering gulls. Georgie wrapped her arms around her knees as Tyler threw the crust of his sandwich down the beach, causing an uproar of flapping wings.
A question came to Georgie’s mind, one that would certainly lead to fewer questions about herself. “What was Japan like?”
He took the change of subject gracefully. She played with some rocks at the edge of the blanket, letting them fall through her fingers as he shared a few stories about Japan. He talked about missionary experiences and then classes and what he expected from school.
“You could go back to BYU though, right? If you wanted? Just reapply?” He looked at her, hopeful. “You could have a fresh start.” He averted his eyes and threw a rock into the waves.
She smiled, knowing what he was asking and appreciating the direction of his thoughts, but if she went back, it wouldn’t be a fresh start. Somehow it would be going backward. But she didn’t want to explain that to Tyler. “I have time to decide.”
He nodded. He brushed off his hands and stood, then held them out to help her up. “C’mon. I think we can still see some tide pools.”
She looked at his hands, pale, steady, undemanding. She gave him one of hers, stood with his gentle pull, and let go. She suspected he would have preferred to hang on, but he smiled and walked by her side to the tide pools, pointing out anemones, sand crabs, and sea urchins. Gradually Georgie relaxed enough to enjoy the wonder of her surroundings.
By the time they returned to the blanket, the seagulls had cleaned her plate and emptied the bag of chips, and Georgie was smiling, winded, and ready for pie.
* * *
When she entered the back door to the restaurant, she felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. Which was why she immediately sensed that something was very wrong.
“What do you mean I’m fired?” Anders yelled at Reuben.
Directly in front of Georgie, Anders’s back was to her when he grabbed a tray of cutlery and pulled it to the floor with a crash. Georgie jumped back, avoiding a paring knife spinning across the floor. She took in the few staff members already in the kitchen, frozen where they were. Reuben stood in the doorway of his office, filling it up with his size, his hand on the doorknob as if he was just inviting Anders in to talk.
Reuben appeared calm. “We can talk in here, or you can leave now. Those are your options.”
“My options? What are my options if you fire me? Huh?” He stepped toward Reuben, lifting his arm in front of him, a knife in his fist.
Georgie drew in her breath with the others, and someone to her right pulled her closer.
“How am I supposed to feed my kid, huh?”
Reuben let out a sigh. “Anders, you knew the rules—”
“Forget the rules! I come here, I work”—the emotion in Anders’s voice pitched—“I do my job and you . . .” He inched closer to Reuben.
“Stop,” Georgie whispered. “Please, stop.”
Anders flicked a look her way, desperate, hate-filled, his eyes red-rimmed and wet.
She felt herself being pulled back. Jace stepped in front of her. “Anders.” Jace held his hand up in a calming gesture. Anders turned quickly, swinging the knife around toward Jace. Jace backed up half a step into Georgie. “I thought you were going to quit that stuff, man.”
Anders fought to steady himself. He gritted his teeth. “I tried.” He shook his head. “I need this job.”
“You need to put the knife down. That’s not helping anybody,” Jace said.
The veins in Anders’s neck bulged with strain. “Who’s gonna help me? Huh?” He seemed on the verge of breaking, giving in to emotion, and the knife lowered. Jace took a step forward at the same time Reuben did; Anders’s eyes grew wide. The knife came back up.
“Who’s gonna help me?” he shouted.
He lunged at Jace, but Reuben grabbed him from behind, wrenching Anders’s hand so the knife fell to the floor. Sirens approached from the distance, and Reuben pushed Anders to the wall. He whimpered as Reuben and Caleb kept him secure.
Jace had turned, completely shielding Georgie as tears ran down her face. She jerked her gaze from the scene to his eyes. He reached for her but paused. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, trying to lie, but she knew he could see right through her, so she gave up and shook her head no and gasped for breath.
Mai pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay, Georgie. Shhhh.” Mai shook too.
Long after the police had recorded everyone’s statements and taken Anders away, and after Reuben had taken a vote on whether or not to stay open, and staying open won, Georgie hung on to the feel of Mai’s hug and Jace’s protective stance when Anders had turned her way.
No matter how weak or inadequate she’d been, they’d given her exactly what she’d needed. They’d made her feel safe. Mai . . . and Jace.
After everyone was somewhat settled again, Jace returned to keeping his distance, asking only the essentials of her. She found herself oddly strengthened by this. Even after what had happened, she could handle her job, keep up with her responsibilities, help the restaurant run as smoothly as possible on their busiest night of the week. She felt shaken but not coddled or frail.
Only a few times did Jace meet her gaze or she his. Only a few times did she wonder what had changed between them. Because something definitely had.
She stepped out into the cool night air for her break and caught a whiff of cigarette smoke.
“Mai?”
Mai turned, stepping on the butt. “Hey, Georgie. You okay?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t. Begged it off Haru to calm my nerves.”
Georgie nodded. “Want to sit?”
They moved to an old picnic table under the eaves. Jace’s bike gleamed in the weak light. Georgie yawned, and Mai leaned forward, dropping her head between her arms. Mai’s wings peeked over the top of her T-shirt’s neckline.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Mai rubbed her temples. “Sure.”
“Your tattoo. She flies with her own wings, right?”
Mai looked back at her, a slow smile coming to her face. She sat up. “Yeah. Something my mom taught me. A long time ago. An old story from China.”
Georgie waited for her to continue.
Mai rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “You want to hear it?”
Georgie nodded.
“Well, maybe we deserve a story after today.”
Georgie rested her chin on her hands.
“The story is about an emperor’s daughter. She had food and fine clothes, but the one thing the emperor wouldn’t grant her was freedom. He feared for her safety, didn’t trust her to make decisions about her future, and only allowed her to study art and flower arranging. She was beautiful and kind and wanted to please her father, who kept her in a tower of jade and golden bars. She could see the world from her window but couldn’t be in it. She wanted to le
arn more. So she studied from books smuggled to her by her handmaid: history, philosophy, architecture, and science. She learned to play instruments her father hadn’t assigned. She taught herself to weave silks, embedding them with the magic of the earth: the warmth of fire, the cool of water, and the lightness of wind.”
Georgie watched the stars and then glanced at Mai, who smiled as if she thought storytelling on break in the lot behind a restaurant was silly.
“Keep going,” Georgie said, nudging her. “It’s helping.”
Mai continued. “She kept everything hidden from her father, but one day his steps were quiet, and the instrument she played drowned out the sound of his entrance. The books, the music, it was all out for him to see, everything but the silks, which the handmaid kept behind a loose jade tile in the wall. In his rage over her defiance, the emperor ordered everything destroyed and her feet bound, and then he pronounced her engaged to an aged, wealthy suitor who was known to be miserable and cruel, the kind of man her father had tried to protect her from.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. And as a final display of her dishonor, he took the handmaid, weighed her down with chains, and paraded her through the world, anywhere visible from his daughter’s window.”
The back door opened, and both girls turned.
“Mai, they need you up front,” Reuben called.
“Just a couple more minutes?” she asked. “Please?”
He paused. “All right.” The door closed.
Mai leaned closer to Georgie. “Okay, so, the emperor takes the old guy she’s going to marry to see his daughter, only she isn’t there. While he’s been gone, she’s used her knowledge and courage and the magic silks and escaped. Her father’s rage builds so much that he goes to strike the old man, who is laughing. As the emperor raises his hand, the old man transforms into a beautiful, terrible dragon. The emperor freaks out, of course, but the dragon says, ‘Fool. You’ve caged what was meant to soar, and now she flies with her own wings.’”
Georgie stared.
Mai blinked. “Was that too anticlimactic? I sort of rushed the end.”
Georgie shook her head. “No. I really liked it.”
“I’d better go in.” She looked at her watch. “You’ve got a few more minutes, huh?”
Georgie nodded, still dazed.
“Okay. See you inside.” Mai walked away but then turned back. “I forgot. The emperor’s daughter rescues her handmaid, and the dragon is really a handsome sorcerer who’d heard stories of the girl in a cage. He finds her and her handmaid, and they live happily ever after exploring the world together.” She shrugged with a grin and hurried to the door, where she paused again. “Oh, hey, Jace.”
Georgie quickly turned to face the parking lot, hearing the door close and Jace’s footsteps halt. Then they continued toward her, and her pulse quickened. He sat on the bench, which made the old wood creak. He set down a Styrofoam takeout container filled with bisque.
“Do you mind if I . . . ?”
“No, of course not.” She looked down, running her hand over her slacks to her knees.
“Would you like some?”
She turned her head in surprise. He held out a second spoon.
“You’re offering me bisque?”
He shrugged. “It’s been a long night.” When she didn’t respond, he leaned closer. “I’ll try not to spill any on you.” One corner of his mouth came up, and she couldn’t help matching it.
She reached for the spoon, but he pulled it just out of her reach, and when she reached farther and grabbed it, he broke into a smile that she wasn’t sure she could look away from. He let her have the spoon and pushed the container closer, offering her the first taste.
Georgie hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but with the smell from that container out in the crisp air, she was suddenly famished. She lifted a spoonful to her mouth. The warm, sweet cream and salt of the seafood passed over her tongue. She couldn’t help it. Her eyes closed, and she sighed, which she immediately cut short, her eyes flying open, and then she choked.
“Is something wrong?” Jace asked as she got her coughing under control.
She swallowed and shook her head. “It’s perfect.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem to be enjoying it . . .” His look was teasing.
“No, it’s good. Just went down the wrong tube.” She’d recovered and dipped her spoon back into the cup.
“Hey, hey, save some for me.” He pulled the bisque closer to himself and took a spoonful. “Mm. That is pretty good.”
She nodded. “It’s not bad in the pie either.”
He looked at her and laughed. She reached for one more spoonful. His expression changed, no longer teasing. She found she was okay with that look too. A very long moment drifted between them, their eyes still locked.
Finally he blinked and looked away. “Are you sure you’re okay after what happened in there?”
She nodded. Though they’d all been shaken, she’d been the only one to shed tears, a fact she was glaringly aware of. “It just caught me off guard. What about you?”
He shrugged, concentrating on the container in his hand. “It was weird. Anders has been around a lot longer than I have. I liked him, for the most part.”
She’d observed that herself. “He needs help, doesn’t he?”
Jace took another spoonful and swallowed. “Reuben was giving him help. He had to come to work clean. Strike three.” He offered her another taste, and she took it. “But, yeah, he needs help.”
“Does he live on the island?”
He shook his head. “Marysville. I think you and I are the only islanders on staff.” He watched her. He wasn’t one to avoid eye contact when speaking. Yet she had the feeling he’d been trying to do just that all week.
She looked down at her spoon in her fingers. “Thank you. For what you did.” She raised her eyes to his.
“No trouble at all.”
A smile reached her mouth before it did his.
Then he blinked and furrowed his brow. “Isn’t your break about up?” He looked down, stirring the bisque.
She glanced behind her. “Yeah, I should get back. Reuben’s kind of a mess without me.”
He laughed out loud, and it startled her. She frowned. “What, you don’t think so?”
He passed his hand over his mouth, attempting to straighten out his smirk. “Oh, definitely.”
She stood, brushing off her pants. “Listen, Mr. Sous-chef—”
He stood as well, closer than she’d expected. “Yes, Miss Expediter?”
The back door swung open. “Georgie, I need you in here. It’s a mess.” Reuben looked past her. “You too, Romeo. Move it. Break’s over.” The door swung shut behind him.
Georgie turned back to Jace, triumphant, though her heart was pounding a little too hard. She folded her arms. “A mess.”
Jace stepped even closer, and she couldn’t cover the small catch of her breath in time. “The last bite.” He slowly waved his spoon filled with the bisque under her nose, his eyes locked with hers. She inhaled, refusing to look down but opened her mouth just a little. His eyebrow arched up, and he brought the spoon to his own mouth and swallowed. “Mmm. That is so good.”
Her mouth still hung open. He tipped the cup up to his mouth and tapped down the last drops, licked his lips, then tossed the container in the trash as he walked past.
She watched him open the door.
“Hurry up.” He thumbed toward the kitchen and mouthed the word, “Mess.” The door closed behind him.
Georgie stared, not knowing whether to laugh or growl. Or hide. Because Jace’s charm was definitely showing.
She looked at the container in the trash can and tossed her spoon in.
“Dumb bisque.” She bit her lip. She hadn’t felt so much like herself in a long time.
Chapter 8
Jace ran his hand over his face.
What was he doing? Yes, she’d been vulnerable standing in the doorway
with Anders going off half-cocked, and yes, he’d been the nearest to her. Of course he’d shielded her.
His focus came back, and he realized he was staring at the Employees must wash their hands sign on the mirror over the sink. He blinked and turned off the water, grabbed a paper towel, and dried his face and the back of his neck from the splashing he’d just given himself.
To heck with the invisibility thing. He was no good at it. And why would he tease her like that? Her uncle had said she’d been through some tough times, was trying to get away. He shook his head. After coming inside, he’d just about turned right back around to apologize. Again.
But the look in her eyes . . . There was something there that didn’t require careful handling. Something he’d seen the other night as well. A spark she didn’t show often enough. A spark, he suspected, that if he wasn’t careful could ignite into something he really didn’t need right now. Nope.
He was just watching out for her. Like her uncle had asked. She could use a friend.
The clatter outside the door reached through his thoughts. He shook off his stupor and opened the door to the chaos of the kitchen. He found Georgie washing her hands in one of the kitchen basins. A bit of her hair had escaped her ponytail, and she tucked it behind her ear, where it curled against her neck. She turned and caught him watching, then glared at him.
As she stepped past him she said quietly, “Next time I’m bringing my own bowl.”
Despite every warning screaming inside his head, he countered, his voice low, “Next time we won’t be interrupted.”
She missed a step and whipped her head around, her mouth opening as if to say something she’d forgotten. The look changed to the beginnings of a smile, drawing a chuckle from him, and then she walked calmly to her station, where Reuben turned over a number of salads to her care. The red was already creeping into her cheeks.
Kisses in the Rain Page 10