Page 116 of The Promise Of You

What?! “How do you know?”

“There’s some weird shit going on at night.”

"Ohmygod, you’re right. The first day I got here, I drove on The Green, and I saw him smoking a cigarette outside. It was a Sunday! We’re closed on Sundays! And when I went there the next day, the place was disgusting. D’you think he uses the kitchen for himself—like to run a catering side gig?”

“It’s possible. But there’s worse. There’s always noise after hours coming from the restaurant, and I didn’t used to pay attention to it. But the other night, after I pulled you out of the walk in? I couldn’t sleep, and I heard noise again, and this time I checked it out. Samuel and David were loading heavy stuff in the trunk of a car. D’you have another explanation?”

My blood runs cold. They’re stealing? And in those quantities? It’s hard to believe, even with the way Samuel’s been acting. Although…

“I thought they might be doing a catering gig, and frankly, I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you my suspicions at the time.” Suddenly his expression turns angry, and he punches the sand. “Fuck! I knew it. I should have done something that night.”

I’m sitting upright now, legs crossed. “You had no way to know.”

“I bet you if you ask him next time, he’ll tell you the lamb went bad and he had to throw it. Those spices go in another dish?”

“They don’t. That’s why it doesn’t make sense.” That and the fact that he insists on featuring dishes from another continent when we should be all about local, but whatever.

“It does. I bet Murphy never checked inventory.”

“My aunt said Uncle Kevin relied entirely on Samuel. I’ll do inventory myself, early tomorrow morning. I’ll take note of expiry dates. This way I’ll know if he’s lying next time he says we’re out of fresh meats or produce. Do you think they run a side gig? Catering?” That would explain why Samuel doesn’t want to work extra days.

“I don’t know. Margins are slim in catering, and he’s kinda lazy for that. Who do you use for your provisions, meats and produce?”

What difference does it make? “Some large national company.” I tell him the name. “He doesn’t want to go local. Says it’s too much hassle, too many providers.”

Justin’s jaw is tight. “He’s buddies with his rep. I bet you he sells the stuff back for cash to his rep, the rep sells it cash at a discount to another place with low standards.”

I can’t believe this.

Actually, I can.

“I’ll get on it tomorrow morning.” I’ll have to go in super early to make sure I have enough time. I’ll take pictures of expiration dates to confront him when the time comes.

“Maybe you don’t need to.”

What does he mean? “Of course I do! I need to figure this out!”

He takes my hand in his. “I’m installing cameras on the parking lot.”

He what?

“I ran it by Declan,” he continues. “Says it’s cool. I just needed to confirm a couple of things with you first. And you just did. Once I’m done all we’ll need is to sit back and wait for them to do their next run.”

I’m speechless. In a good way. My lady parts do a little happy dance.

“Babe.” He strokes the inside of my wrist. “I wasn’t going to sit there and do nothing.”

My center clenches. Sure, there’s his fingers stroking my soft skin, and his bare abs showing above his swimsuit, and his boyish grin just for me, and his sparkling eyes caressing me somewhere deep.

But there’s more.

He’s looking out for me.

I get on my knees and kiss him softly. “Thank you.”

He picks me up and sets me on his lap, and we look at the lake in silence for a moment. “How do your parents feel about what you’re doing here?”

I shrug. “Does it matter?”

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