Page 81 of Tasty Cherry

Raya’s lips pinch tightly together as she taps messages on her phone. Brooklyn’s face is a neutral mask. I probably should have spent more time with her over the weekend after the Maverick incident.

But all I wanted was to be in Sebastian’s bed. And I was. Sunday afternoon was languid and easy. But I’m sore today after all our activities, and I squirm in my seat. Who knew so much sex in a two-day period could be this hard on your body?

I vow to hang out with her today as much as possible, and definitely suggest dinner. I assume we’ll be together again this week as we rotate.

When five minutes pass and still no Maverick, Raya says, “Let’s go over the assignments for the week. When you are done with your exam, you’ll go straight to your position.” She taps on her iPad. “Maverick, never mind, he’s not here. Brooklyn, you will be in the kitchen today. Ilsa, you will be at the host stand in the main restaurant. Owen, you move to front desk. Mila, you will be in human resources.”

I almost wish for laundry or kitchen work to keep my hands busy and my mind free, but HR is good. I’ll meet more staff.

Be far from Sebastian.

And all the empty rooms.

The hallways with no security footage.

I glance in the corners. There are no cameras in this room. Sebastian and I discussed this last night. All the halls other than the secure ones have them. So do the elevators, lobby, and restaurants. Anywhere money changes hands is watched. So are all exterior doors.

But most of the employees-only areas are camera-free. And of course all the guest rooms. It’s getting in and out of them that gets recorded, plus the system logs all employee scans through locked doors.

Sebastian and I are not breaking laws here. Just a little fraternization clause. But I suppose if something did go wrong, it wouldn’t take much to find out all the places we went together.

Not that it would come to that.

A few more minutes pass. The balding proctor sips his coffee, shaking his wrist to reveal his watch from beneath the cuff of his white shirt.

Raya’s face is bright red. “Okay, go ahead and start. We can give Maverick his late.”

The proctor lifts a stack of exams. “Mark your answers clearly and plainly. I will grade them as you turn them in. We’ll fill in your digital certificates upon completion, and the printed ones will be mailed to you.”

He walks between the tables, dropping the booklets on the desk. “If you fail to pass the exam, you can opt to review the correct answers, and take it again immediately. I’m here until noon. Otherwise, you’ll need to schedule a test on your own time at one of our exam locations.”

I write my name on the front page of the booklet and wait. I’ve taken this exam twice already in Texas, once when I worked at a resort in high school, then again as part of our college coursework. I’m not worried. Eighty percent of it is common sense. The rest is about food temperatures and safety.

The proctor returns to the front of the room. “This test is untimed. When you are finished, bring it to me. You may begin.”

I flip to the first page of questions.

The door opens with a whoosh and Maverick comes in, followed by Sebastian. Both are scowling.

My stomach turns. Did Raya make Sebastian go find him? I haven’t asked Sebastian about his relationship to Maverick, but everyone says he’s related, and that’s why Maverick isn’t taking his internship seriously.

I glance at Brooklyn to see how she’s faring with his appearance, but she stays focused on her test booklet, rapidly circling answers.

Sebastian waits for Maverick to sit down like he’s a kid skipping class, then for the proctor to pass him a test.

Raya realizes Maverick doesn’t have anything to write with and heaves a huge sigh as she fetches a hotel pen from a container near the front of the room.

Her pointed look at Sebastian could have withered a tree.

His eyes briefly meet mine before he turns and heads out again.

I look behind me at Owen and Ilsa.

Owen spots me and makes a grimace. Ilsa pretends to focus on her test, but she keeps glancing over at Maverick.

Maverick kicks a leg out, spinning the pen in his hand. He clearly does not want to be here.

Maybe it would be better if he was gone. Brooklyn would be relieved, I think. Hopefully she didn’t relapse with him over the weekend.

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