Page 140 of Knockin' Boats
“Heard you were awfully cozy at Tastes Like Grandma’s the other day.” She clucked and went back to her menu planning, bending to say something to her sous chef, but she shot me a cheeky grin, so I figured she was just needling me now.
My chest warmed. I could get used to her good-natured teasing if it meant I was part of the family again.
Charity emerged from the pantry, her phone in her hand. “Ash, did you see this?”
“You’re supposed to be getting onions. Don’t think you can distract me from your punish—what the fuck?”
Charity shoved the phone in front of my face. The screen was open to Google reviews for Master Bites, and there were six new reviews.
All 1 star. All anonymous.
All variations of the same statement:
Terrible service. Food made me sick.
It looked so good, but it wasn’t clean at all.
Never going back after hours on the toilet.
Serving food on a lake? Not a good idea!
This place needs to be shut down.
Owner was rude and ungrateful.
“Ungrateful,” I mumbled. “That doesn’t even—” I sucked in a breath. “He didn’t. That motherfucker.”
“Ash?” Charity asked, eyes worried. “What’s going on?Someoneis obviously review bombing us.”
“Not us,” I said grimly. “Me. He’s review bombing me.” I met her gaze. “It’s my stepdad.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?Why would he do such a terrible thing?”
“Because he’s a terrible human being,” I said, bile rising in my throat. “If he can’t control me, then he wants to ruin me. Or at least twist my arm enough I’ll give in to him.”
“You’re not going to, right?”
“No.” I glared at the phone screen. “If it’s war he wants, then it’s war he’ll get.”
Vera joined us. “What’s going on?”
I reluctantly tilted the screen toward her. “It’s my stepdad. I’m sure of it. We got into it last night. I’m so sorry. I know this reflects on the resort too.”
She pursed her lips as she read over the reviews. “We can report these reviews and get them taken down. They’re anonymous and all posted within an hour. It’s obviously abuse.”
“Maybe. But that will take time, and while they’re up, they’re doing damage.”
She nodded. “Then I best get cracking on reporting them.”
I nodded. “I’ve got to go talk to Sawyer. Warn him. This concerns him too.”
“Okay,” she said. “You go. We’ll take care of your prep, right, Charity?”
“Yes, of course. Do what you need to do.”
“Thanks.” I reached the door and whirled back. “Don’t forget to prep those onions.”
“You’re cruel,” she joked, but none of her usual lightness infused her tone.
