Page 234 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“I’m not staring.”
“You’re definitely staring.”
“I’m observing. That’s different. Also, I’m working on inventory. Getting an order ready.” I look over my shoulder into the pantry where I am not, actually, inventorying anything.
“Uh-huh, that’s why you haven’t written a single thing down.”
I look down at the still-blank paper on my clipboard.
Whatever. Zach can call me out if he wants.
I motion toward Tatum with my chin. “Her staff really like her, don’t they?”
“Ahh, so we’re here about Tatum. That makes this way more fun.”
“Shut up and just answer the question.”
“I’d say hero-worship is more like it,” Zach says. “They’re always gushing about her.”
“Why is that, do you think?” I’ve been noticing the same thing lately. As well as how cohesive her team seems to be—more than they were before she arrived. And she’s only been here six weeks.
Zach shrugs. “She’s good with people. Makes them feel seen. And I heard Jessie talking about some changes Tatum made to their order of operations that I guess made a big difference? I was only half-listening. But I’m sure Jessie would tell you about it if you asked her.”
Or I could just ask Tatum about it.
I run a hand through my hair. It still rankles my pride, but the reality is, Idoneed help. Last night wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. Griffin is still giving me trouble, and for mostly stupid reasons, we had three plates returned to the kitchen with problems.
One is too many. Three is absolutely unacceptable.
I told my family I could do this on my own, but I’m not too proud to ask for help when I need it.
I’malmosttoo proud to ask Tatum Elliott for help, but for Hawthorne, I can get over myself.
Tatum ishere,and she offered. Worst case scenario, I hate everything she suggests, I don’t make any changes, and I’m no worse off than I was before.
Tatum walks toward me, heading for the pantry, probably. She lifts an eyebrow when she passes by. “You’ve been staring into my kitchen for a long time, Lennox. Do you have a purpose, or do you just think I look cute today?”
Zach chuckles, and I reach out a hand, stopping him from trailing me when I follow Tatum into the pantry. I stand behind her while she sorts through a bin of apples, setting aside the ones she wants. “Can I help you with something?” she asks without looking up. “I’m a little busy right now. I’ve got applepie to make, and my butter will be the right temperatureany second.” She shoots a teasing look over her shoulder that makes something in my chest flutter to life.
“How are you feeling after last night?” I ask.
“You mean how am I feeling after I almost got eaten by a bear? I didn’t sleep very well, for all the worst-case scenarios running through my mind, but I’m sure my brain will settle down eventually.”
After I closed the restaurant and went home, it took all my willpower not to text Olivia and ask for Tatum’s number. I wanted to make sure she was okay—that the bear encounter hadn’t freaked her out too much.
Honestly, it freaked me out, and I grew up here.
But begging Tatum’s number off my little sister would have given Olivia the wrong impression, and she would have passed that wrong impression on to Mom, and then the whole family would start talking about something that isn’t even a thing.
Maybeisn’t a thing? Do I want it to be a thing?
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I say. Because it’s true, and because it feels safe. As a fellow Stonebrook Farm employee, Iamglad she’s okay.
She looks up. “I’m glad you were there to make sure I was okay.”
The feel of Tatum in my arms pops into my brain, making my neck flush with heat.
I need a subject change, but my brain is not making it easy.
