Page 2 of The Arrogant's Redemption

“I don’t want you to promise me anything, Mom. I’d rather you just live with me. I don’t like words, because sometimes they’re true and sometimes they’re not. I want to live until tomorrow, then the next day, and then the next—until all our days together turn into a whole life. That’s why I pray every night. It’s my way of making sure God doesn’t forget what I asked for.”

Alexis

CHAPTER ONE

Almost twelve years later

PROVINCETOWN, CAPE COD

Someone holdsthe restaurant door open for too long, and I take the chance to breathe in the salty ocean air I love so much.

The sun is just beginning to sink into the green-blue waters, now darker at this hour, and from where I’m standing, I can see tourists walking or riding colorful bikes down the town’s main street.

I love summer and how people just seem happier this time of year. Even though Cape Cod’s temperatures are way milder than the rest of the country, it’s still the season for shorts and ponytails. I’m pretty sure I lived in a nudist colony in a past life—too much fabric on my body drives me crazy.

“I’m having dinner here tonight,” I announce as I step into the kitchen, catching the scent of fried shrimp that Badger—chef and owner of the place—is cooking.

The other servers are terrified of him. At first glance, he does look intimidating—nearly six-foot-five, over two hundred pounds, and covered in tattoos—but to me, he’s just a big teddy bear.

Sure, he’s not the most patient person—he’ll literally growl at you if you touch anything in his kitchen without permission—but I’ve heard all chefs are a little . . . temperamental.

Things get chaotic for us servers, especially this time of year, and Badger’s patience quickly runs short. So when too many of us storm into his “sanctuary” at once, he gives us a look that sends some of the newbies running. As for me? What can I say—I like to live dangerously.

Anyway, I don’t judge people by appearances. I try to look deeper. Sometimes an angry face hides a huge heart—like Badger’s. And sometimes a smile is just a mask for disdain, like the kind some of the rich customers wear when they treat us like we’re invisible, just because we wear aprons and serve their food.

Badger, despite his moody behavior, genuinely cares about the people around him. I remember when my mom got arrested—he stayed with me for hours, just listening to me vent while I cried.

I force a fake smile at the memory because I can’t afford to think about where she is now—not during a shift. Actually, I shouldn’t think about it at all. I need to focus on getting her out of there.

“How do you want your shrimp?” he asks, and even though he doesn’t look back, I can tell he’s in a good mood. If there’s one thing that wins over the big guy’s heart, it’s asking for his food.

“Surprise me. I love everything you make.”

He finally turns to look at me. “You know you’re my favorite waitress of all time, right?”

“I’m theonlywaitress here. The rest of the staff is just a bunch of dudes,” I laugh.

“Even if there were others, you’d still be my favorite.” He gives me a half-smile, then changes the subject. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“On Sunday, I’m visiting Mom.”

He drops the wooden spoon he was using to stir a sauce I know is for the mussels. “Any news from the lawyers?”

I keep my expression neutral—it always makes me want to cry. “They’re being their usual realistic-optimistic selves.”

“I hate those suits.”

“I can’t say I’m crazy about them either, but right now, I need them to do their job and get her out.”

“Tell Marla I’m coming to visit her next weekend.”

I smile.

He’s been going whenever he can sneak away from the restaurant. I can’t help but wonder—could something be happening between them?

“She’ll love that.”

“Your mom is the best person I know—right after you.”

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