It’s my last day of freedom before starting my internship and Jules called me early this morning in an absolute panic. Her opening shift called out sick and she’s out of town at her son’s swim meet. Of course, I said yes. Now I’m stuck inside at Gracie's Closet on an absolutely perfect morning for surfing.
Gracie started the boutique a few years ago and filled it with her own handcrafted designs. I helped run and work at the store, but the creative hand was beyond me. After her brand went viral last summer, she made a big move across the country a few months ago. Her flagship store still remains open here, though, and draws huge crowds in season.
After this my afternoon will be spent putting the finishing touches on the commissioned surfboard I’ve been painting. Damien is due to pick it up tomorrow. When the bell chimes, I look up from my book, folding the corner to mark the page.
“Welcome to Gracie’s Closet! Please let me know if I can help you find anything.”
“Thank you!” a woman about my age sings out.
I study her while she searches the displays. Her hair is a vibrant rainbow of colors reaching to the middle of her back. It’s wild and untamed, partially curled, partially wavy. It looks sun-dried after a morning of salt water which is not uncommon around here. She’s barefoot, which is not unheard of either. This far from the sand and boardwalk it’s less common, though. She’s wearing a long T-shirt as a dress. It’s from the Nokomis Warriors swim team and the sleeves are cut off. The arm pit is cut so low it leaves very little to the imagination. Again, in a coastal beach town skimpy bikinis aren’t uncommon, but this seems brazen by comparison. There are no undergarments to speak of. When she catches me staring, she smiles warmly and waves. I would give anything to be confident enough to strut around like that.
“Looking for anything specific?”
“Not really. These are beautiful! Are you Gracie?”
I laugh. “Not a chance. Gracie’s my best friend. She’s super talented, right?”
“Totally.” She’s studying an earring display and finally reaches out to grab a pair. At the register she plucks off a pair of sunglasses and catches my face. “You don’t like them?”
“Not really. For your coloring and face shape you should definitely do these ones.”
I point at a pair, and she grabs them without question.
“Do you paint?” She asks while I box up the earrings.
“How’d you know?”
“Paint on your fingers.”
“Oh, right. I’m doing a surfboard right now. Harley Quinn.”
“Who’s Harley Quinn and why are you painting her?”
“From Suicide Squad.” She stares at me with a blank expression. “Birds of Prey? DC Comics?”
“I’d love to see it when it’s done!”
“I’ll take a picture for my portfolio. Stop by Bay Side Surf anytime. Tom will have my binder, sparse as it may be.”
“Sounds like a date! Thank you.” She shakes the bag.
“Pleasure. Have a good day!”
***
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be tonight?” Ian asks in annoyance.
I’ve spent enough time around the Dutch the last week to learn the new bartender's name. “Not really. Annoying you is just so much fun.”
He's wiping down the sticky counters with a gross rag. “It’s kind of sad you don’t have any friends.”
“I have plenty of friends,” I snap.
“None that I’ve ever seen.”
I look him dead in the eye and tip what’s left of my cup over, spilling sticky beer across the bar. He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. He moves the filthy rag back down to the end to wipe it up.
“Sorry, total accident,” I say innocently.
“Your clumsiness strikes again.” He’s trying to sound annoyed, but I see his lips twitch in an almost smile.
The crowd has thinned fairly early for a Sunday, but I’m not ready to spend the rest of the night alone yet. “Did I tell you about the girl in the store today?” I sit forward. “She was incredible!”
“Did I tell you I don’t care?” He’s still cleaning up the counter.
“She was practically naked!” I can’t keep the scandalized giggle in. “She was technically wearing a shirt, but you could see everything.”
He stops mid-wipe to stare at me.
“Huh, all it takes to get your attention is a naked woman. I’ll have to remember that.”
“Please don’t traipse around here naked. It would scare away the customers.” He goes back to cleaning again.
“Bullshit. I swam around in the tank practically naked all the time, and they flocked to see it.”
He’s gone completely rigid.
“Don’t worry, I’m retired. It’s something you’ll never see.”
“Thank Neptune for that.”
Someone from down the bar calls to get his attention.
“Get me another beer when you have a chance!” I yell after him.
Hey bitch! I have a layover there Tuesday. I made it an overnight so I can pop in and say hi. Crashing with you. XOXOXO
I squeal in excitement. Several people in the vicinity turn in my direction, Ian included. He looks curious instead of pissed, though. When he’s free again, he slides a beer in front of me.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes! My best friend Gracie is flying in to visit. You’ll love her!”
“If she's anything like you, I highly doubt it." His response was completely flat.
“Why are you such a jerk? Can’t you just let me be excited about something?”
“You’re welcome to go be excited elsewhere.”
“Don’t dump that.” He grabs my glass before I can tip it over again.
I’m standing up to walk away when he says, “Wait, I’m sorry. Sit down.” He slides the cup back over. “Tell me about...” He hesitates and looks at the tank over my shoulder. “Gracie.”
“Her parents own this place, so you have no choice but to tolerate her. Hopefully better than you tolerate me, because she will kick you in the balls. Literally. Or get you fired.”
“She sounds... very lovable.”
“You don’t have to do this. Just stop scowling at me and let me drink my beer in peace.”
He’s rinsing some cups in the sink right in front of me. There’s not much point since they have to go through the dishwasher anyway.
“Tell me about the girl from the store today.”
“Her hair is what really stood out! I’ve always wanted to do mermaid hair...” A glass slips out of his hand and shatters in the sink.
“Shit,” he mutters, collecting the pieces.
“Who’s the clumsy one now?” I snicker. “They’ll take that out of your paycheck,” I sing out smugly. “Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything.”
“What’s mermaid hair?” He asks after cleaning up the broken bits.
“Just a mixture of bright colors. It looked so good on her, but I don’t have the coloring or confidence to pull it off. Plus, I’d have to bleach the hell out of my hair to be able to add color... are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m great.” He recovers himself a bit only to say, “Your hair is beautiful, you should never change it.”
“I... wait... was that a compliment?”
“Don’t get used to it," he growls and then strides from behind the bar to the kitchen.
“Fancy a game of pool?” a guy with an accent asks. “We need a fourth.”
“Sure! But I must warn you, I’m a shark.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “I call dibs for my team then.”
A few rounds of pool in, and it turns out I wasn't actually joking. Compared to these three, I am a shark, but really, they're just that bad.
“Are you dating the bartender or something?” He eventually asks me, mid shot, throwing off my aim.
I’ve had a few drinks and am starting to move past tipsy. “Not a chance.” I giggle and trip over nothing.
He steadies me, laughing along. “He’s been glaring at me all night.”
“He has resting bitch face. Don’t think you’re special.”
“I think I’m going to call it a night!” I tell my new friend happily. “Thanks for the drinks and the games.”
“No problem, Sharkie. This is the most fun I’ve had my entire vacation so far. Can I walk you home?”
“How’d you know I live within walking distance?” My question is drown out by a low, masculine voice.
“Not a chance. Get lost,” Ian says. He pulls me away from the guy, Brad. Maybe Brent? Or Brian? “She’s clearly too intoxicated to go home with anyone.”
“I’m not a child. I can make my own decisions.” I jerk my arm out of his hand.
“Then stop acting like one! Use your fucking brain.”
“I’m just going to... good luck on your first day tomorrow,” Bobby says. No, Brett. Possibly Rhett.
“Wait!” I call out but there’s practically cartoon dust in his wake.
“You’re the fucking worst!” I scream at Ian.
Luckily the place is mostly deserted, and everyone left is the sort to mind their own business.
“I think the words you’re looking for are, ‘Thank you for stopping me from making a huge mistake.’”
“I wasn’t making a mistake.” I cross my arms and attempt to plant my feet in place. He steadies me when I start swaying.
“Did you want to sleep with him, then?”
“Of course not! I’m not into random hookups. Especially with tourists.” I can't keep the disgust from contorting my face.
“I figured as much. Sit down.” He roughly pulls me across the room to sit back on my stool. “That guy wanted in your pants.”
“No he didn’t! He offered to walk me home.”
He slams a pint of water on the counter, and it sloshes over the sides. “Drink this while I close up. I’ll get you home. Safely and alone.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I start drinking the water anyway.
He disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a plate of food. “Eat.”
“Is this someone’s leftovers? That’s disgusting!”
“No, that’s the dinner I hadn’t gotten to eat yet. I've been too busy babysitting.” He gives me a pointed look.
I reluctantly start eating because it smells good and my stomach is growling.
“And for future reference, if a guy spends the entire night flirting with you and buys your drinks, he expects something in return. ‘Walking you home’ is code for being invited inside to cash in.”
“They needed a fourth for pool. It’s not that serious.”
He looks toward the ceiling and pinches the bridge of his nose. “How the hell are you this naive?”
“I’m not naive.”
“You truly don’t understand how attractive you are. Men, and a few women, come up to flirt with you all the time, and you honestly don’t notice, do you? You just think everyone is always that nice?”
“You think I’m attractive? Is that two compliments in one night?”
“Try to sober up. A hangover on your first day would suck.”
“Awwww, you do care.”
He stares at me flatly for an intense moment, then walks away.