Page 26 of The Perfect Melody

Grinding my teeth together so hard I can almost picture my dentist’s disapproving look, I step up to the checkout and slam my basket loudly onto the end of the conveyor belt, making them both jump.

“Austin.” The odious woman gives me a simpering smile, her cheeks turning red beneath her fake tan. “I didn’t see you there.” She shoots an accusing glare at Zoey, presumably for not warning her I was within earshot.

The younger woman shrugs, flips her pin-straight black hair off her shoulder, then goes back to scanning without a word.

“Clearly,” I reply flatly. “For the record, Cassie asked to work at Bowman’s to cover the cost of the damage caused by the accident. After that she’ll have the option to stay on paid in full, just like everyone else. Nobody is being—how did you put it? Right,taken advantage of.”

“I should hope not.” Mrs Watson gives a haughty sniff.

“One of these days your gossiping is going to get you into real trouble,” Mr Singh says from the neighbouring checkout as he gathers his shopping bags.

The woman in question turns a concerning shade of magenta. “I was only saying what we were all thinking,” she blusters.

“Well, maybe it’s time you practised keeping some of those thoughts inside where they belong. That’ll be thirty-four pounds twenty, please,” Zoey singsongs.

Mrs Watson slaps her card on the reader so hard the entire thing rattles. “I’m in a Bible study group with your mother—I’ll be telling her about this.”

Zoey snorts. “Go ahead. If she were here, my mum would tell you the same thing.” She smiles sweetly. “Maybe instead of spreading gossip you should spend more time listening at Bible study. God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason, you know.”

The wretched woman snatches up her bags and storms out without another word.

“Thanks for that,” I say as Zoey scans through my first item.

She shrugs. “Don’t mention it. I did that for myself as much as I did it for you. That woman’s a gossip and a bully—I’m tired of her constant drama.”

“Fair enough. Still, I appreciate it. Your first drink at the reopening’s on me.”

“Deal. Zara and I have been looking forward to it.” Her brown eyes soften as she talks about her girlfriend, and I feel a twinge of… something in my chest. I’m not jealous. At least not of them as individuals, but I can’t deny coveting what they have. It’s the same way I feel about Reggie and Francis. I can be glad they’ve found happiness while wanting the same for myself, right?

Once things are settled with Bowman’s, I’ll be ready to look for my person. An image of baby-blue eyes and bow-shaped lips crosses my mind.Absolutely not. Even if now were a good time, the tourist who literally crashed into my life is thelastperson I should be thinking about in that way.

I pay, and Zoey wishes me luck for Saturday, then I leave, stewing as I begin the short drive home. How dare Mrs Watsoncompare me to my father. That scumbag cheated on Mum and left us for his new family without a backward glance. I’ve not seen or heard from him since I was eleven years old, and I know Aria hasn’t either. Sure, I can be grumpy and a bit of a workaholic, but I’d never treat someone the way he treated Mum.

Letting Cassie work off the cost of the repairs isn’t taking advantage…is it? No. I shake my head to clear away the fog of guilt that’s creeping in. She’s the one who suggested it. Plus, I’m letting her keep all her tips, and I know they’ll be decent. She’ll only be working for ‘free’ for a week—two shifts really—then she’ll get the same as everyone else.

Paused at a red light, I drum my fingers against the steering wheel. I called Cassie’s reference this morning, surprised when it was an English guy, not an American who answered. Given they worked together in Nashville, I assumed he’d moved here from the US, not that he’d come back to England like Cassie. None of it sits quite right with me, but this Liam guy said all the right things and assured me Cassie’s a solid, hardworking employee who’s good with customers.

The light turns green, and I refocus my attention on the road, taking a left turn onto my street after a few yards. At least now I don’t have to search for an extra set of hands to help at Bowman’s over the summer. I still don’t trust Cassie, but I’m not too proud to admit I dismissed her too quickly before. Someone flighty and clueless wouldn’t have come back to help clean up after the accident. Nor would they have boldly held their ground the way she did when I questioned the information—or lack thereof—on her starter paperwork. That’s what makes her interesting.

I pull onto my driveway and cut the engine. A little mystery is fine, but the secrets Cassie’s keeping had better not hurt my mother or my business. It doesn’t matter how intriguing she is—if Cassie brings trouble to my door, she’d better be prepared to face the consequences.

Chapter Twelve

Austin

Bowman’s issilent when I arrive early to set everything up for today’s training session. The gleaming dark wood and teal soft furnishings of the newly redone space bring me a sense of peace I rarely felt here before. For a long time, Mum resisted any significant changes to the bar, and it put a strain on both our relationship and the business. Last summer we finally talked it all out, and she officially handed over the reins to me. A few months later, the simple changes I made had lured our regulars back in. At first, I worried my budding friendship with Jeremy would fizzle out in the face of our competing businesses, but fortunately there’s enough room in Pine Grove for both our establishments to thrive.

It should only take a couple of hours to get through the training. Most of the team worked here before the refurb. There are only a few completely new members of staff—Cassie, another server, and the kitchen team. Today’s training should put everyone on the same page, and they’ll all get a free meal afterwards. Sam, the new chef, is putting the kitchen staff through a trial run while the rest of us go over the new menus and till system. We’ll all eat lunch together, then go our separate ways until the soft reopening on Saturday night.

“Knock knock.” I turn, surprised to see my other new server in the doorway. She’s twenty minutes early, but I guess that’s better than being late. “Am I the first one here?”

“Yeah, come on in, Molly.”

“Do you need any help?” she asks, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

Quickly I rack my mind for a task to give her—anything to avoid small talk. She did well in her interview, but I could tell early on she’s the chatty sort, where I prefer to work in silence. “Could you grab glasses and a couple of jugs of water from the kitchen and set them on the table?”

“Sure thing, boss,” she chirps eagerly. Molly leaves her bag by the table, then struts past me to head behind the bar.