Page 7 of Taming Waves

“Just someone I used to know,” I replied.

Donnie Dale nodded. “Is she still single?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” Anson replied.

“Then, you know what you need to do,” Donnie Dale declared.

I looked up at him. “What?” I asked.

Anson interrupted by throwing his arm around my shoulders. “Meet a nice stripper and screw her out of his system?”

Donnie Dale’s eyes met Anson’s in the rearview mirror. “No, asshat. Apologize.”

Anson scoffed. “My suggestion sounds more fun.”

Sebastian cut in, and he looked me in the eye. “Look, I don’t know what happened with you and Audrey in high school, but I agree with Donnie Dale. We’re adults now. We all made mistakes. Just tell her you’re sorry for whatever it is. Grovel if you have to.”

So, here I am, ready to do just that and whatever else I must do to finally get her to listen to me.

I’m on a knee, inventorying the selection of chilled wines in the coolers beneath the shelves of spirits that line the wall behind the bar, when the tips of her black velvet boots appear at my side. I glance up to see her standing with her hands on her hips, glaring down at me.

Her long red hair falls in loose waves like a curtain, enveloping her beautiful face. The beautiful face that is currently scowling at me.

I chuckle to myself at her attempt to intimidate me and slowly rise to my feet. Her eyes follow my ascent until she has to throw her head back to look up at me. At six-three, I towerover her five-foot-six frame. I cross my arms and lean a shoulder against one of the shelves as we continue our staring contest.

“Well?” I ask.

“Well, what?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are we good?”

Her scowl deepens. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she asks, as if she didn’t just drag Brew down the hallway to pitch a fit.

“I don’t know, Audi. That wasn’t exactly the warm welcome I had expected.”

A frustrated growl escapes her, and though I know it’s meant to be menacing, it’s sexy as hell, and I can’t help but smile.

“Did you really expect me to be happy about this?”

I shrug. “I am helping you out of a bind, am I not? That’s worth a little appreciation,” I say, knowing I’m ruffling her feathers.

Her eyes flare in anger, her big, beautiful chestnut eyes.

“Relax, Tiger,” I taunt, enjoying riling her up.

She takes a step back. “This is temporary, and if it’s going to work, drop the nicknames and that stupid smirk. You’re here to do a job,” she snaps. “Not flirt. Not reminisce. We’re not friends. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly.”

The employee door opens, and a large man in a white uniform comes bounding in. He walks over to us and raises his chin.

“Sup?” he greets.

“Calvin, this is Parker. He’s going to be helping around here for a bit,” Audrey explains, then turns to me. “Calvin is the cook. He runs the kitchen.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.

“You too, man.”

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