Page 130 of Summer with the Single Dad

“Knock, knock,” came a breathy, valley girl voice from the back door of the kitchen that was usually only used by staff and suppliers.

Justine froze. She glanced at the clock. It was only ten after twelve.

Wyatt read her mind and glanced at his phone. “What the fuck is she doing here so early?” he whispered right before Ashli clickety clacked her heels around the corner.

“Wyatt?” Ashli asked.

Justine put down the filet knife and dropped to the floor behind the prep station into a crouch.

Wyatt glanced down at her. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to see her,” she mouthed.

Ashli was on the other side of the prep table so she couldn’t see Justine. “There you are,” she said to Wyatt, all bubbly and stupid. “We got here a bit early. I want to start my wedding weekend with as much time to soak in the magic as possible.”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Uh … check-in isn’t until three.”

“Oh, we’re paying a king’s ransom for this wedding. I’m sure Bennett will be fine letting us into the cabin early. Tad is taking care of that now. But I just wanted to come chat with you and see if you got my email. I sent it just before we pulled onto the property.”

“Uh … actually, Ashli, it’s too late to add ribs. I’m really sorry. I don’t even have any in the freezer, as we don’t offer ribs on our menu. You approved the cod, chicken, and roast for the entrée options. There are steak-sandwich sliders, arancini, canapes, caprese skewers, and melon and prosciutto bites for the appetizers. Not to mention all the sides and salads. Your head count is fifty. We’ve accounted for that. There will be more than enough food.”

Justine didn’t have to see the woman to know she was pouting. “And here I thought the fact that we’re paying so much for this event—in a place that doesn’t even offer weddings—that you’d be accommodating for this one, simple request.”

“If I had more time, then yes. But you moved the wedding date up by two weeks and requested ribs a day before the event. It’s impossible. We live on an island and need to have everything shipped to us.”

She scoffed. “Isn’t there like a grocery store or something on this piddly rock? In fact, I know there is. I went there when I ran out of foundation. They don’t have a very nice cosmetics section though. Covergirl and Maybelline were it. Um, no.”

Wyatt sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s the spirit. Now is there anything I can sample? This pregnant lady is starving.”

“Umm, no. Unfortunately. We have things prepped, but nothing is put together. We’ll do that tomorrow so it’s fresh. We’re actually in the middle of the lunch rush, right now so …”

Ashli huffed. “Fine. I guess I’ll go see if Tad has unloaded our bags into the cabin yet.” Then she clickety-clacked her way back out of the kitchen.

Justine, who’d pretty much been holding her breath the entire time, glanced up at Wyatt for the all clear.

He looked ready to run away and join the circus. Or at the very least, spit in Ashli’s canapes. “You can come out now. The witch is gone.”

Slowly, Justine rose, keeping a watchful eye on the direction of the backdoor, in case Miss Busche, soon-to-be DuPonte, clickety-clacked her way back in for another “simple request.”

“Are you going to go to the grocery store to buy ribs?”

“Pfsst.” Wyatt made a face. “No. I said that I’d see what I could do. And what I can do is stay in my fucking kitchen and serve the customers out in the pub, and prep for that bitch’s wedding tomorrow. Fucking ribs. Goddamn …” He shook his head. “If he’s even half as bad as her, you dodged a goddamn bullet.”

Justine nibbled on the inside of her bottom lip. “Yeah, I kind of realized that when he got her pregnant. Sometimes I can be a slow study.”

His expression turned sympathetic. “You just tried to see the good in him. I get that. It’s a commendable quality.”

“Hey, Wyatt, can you come help me over here for a sec?” Burke called from the other side of the kitchen.

“Sure thing.” He gave Justine another small, reassuring smile. “You’ve done a great job on the fish, but if you’d rather take off, you’re more than welcome to. We can handle it from here.”

She nodded. “I’ll just clean up my station and wash my hands. Thanks, Wyatt. I forgot how much I enjoyed cutting.”

He gave her a cheeky wink, then disappeared behind a portion of the wall.

Justine cleaned up her filleting station, wiping down the stainless-steel table until it was spotless and sterile. She put the fillets in the walk-in fridge. Then, poking her head out of the back door to make sure the coast was clear, she tiptoed like a creeper across the parking lot, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of Tad the Cad or Ashli the … godawful.

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