Page 19 of Bargain with the Bachelor
I peeked from the kitchen door, releasing a sigh of relief as the back of Hunter’s head disappeared through the front exit.
When I’d walked into the small dining room, and he’d lifted his head from the menu, I nearly had a heart attack. It was the first time I’d seen him since theincidentat the party.
He looked just as yummy as he had that night—maybe even better, with a light scruff and dark, windblown hair, wearing jeans and one of those off-white cable knit fisherman sweaters that made even an average guy look like a Kennedy.
Hunter wasnotan average guy.
He was remarkable in every way—including his arrogance at offering me a loan.
Maybe it hadn’t been arrogance. Maybe it had been pity. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
I jumped back as the kitchen door pushed inward suddenly and nearly smashed my face.
Jana, who’d saved me by agreeing to take over Hunter’s table, came in wearing a huge smile.
“Get a load of this,” she said, opening the check folder and holding it up to me. “Looks like someonereallyappreciated your service.”
Seeing the stack of hundreds, I shook my head in confusion. “He paid in cash? I thought you took his card.”
“He did pay with a card. This is yourtip, girlfriend.”
I gasped. “What? That’s more than the entire bill—by a long shot.”
Jana lifted her shoulders in a happy shrug. “These rich guys—who can figure ’em out? Maybe he was showing off. Maybe he’s just nice. Anyway, I’ll take his tableanytimeyou don’t want it.”
Lifting the bills, she fanned them under my nose and giggled.
Wonderful.Now my humiliation was complete.
Hunter had decided I was a charity case, and really, who could blame him? He’d made such a phenomenal success of his life. I was couch-surfing and serving his burgers.
Pity for the win.
Although, all things considered, my life wasn’tthatbad. The couch-surfing had been limited to one house—Cinda’s.
It had been wonderful to see my friend on a daily basis and get to spend time with Cinda’s adorable four-year-old son, AJ.
And working at the restaurant had been fun once I’d gotten the hang of it.
Jana was an awesome new friend, the view couldn’t be beat, there was free food, and I was slowly saving toward that apartment deposit.
If only Eastport Bay wasn’t so damn expensive. This entire region, in fact, was one of the least affordable in the whole country.
Of course, I would have loved to make a living with my photography, but there was far less demand for art photography than there was for portrait photographers, which I had no experience in.
Even if I could learn the new set of skills required, starting a new business would take a capital investment I simply didn’t have.
I’d been scouring the job listings, applying for any and every opening I might come close to qualifying for. So far, no takers.
My classmates had been right about that MFA not being worth the paper it was printed on. Everyone seemed to want applicants with degrees in STEM fields—people like Hunter.
Worry squeezed my neck muscles in a now-familiar sensation. I hated to think about leaving my beloved hometown.
All my memories of my parents were here. The scenery I most loved to photograph was here. My best friend was here.
But as sweet as Cinda was and as much fun as the extended sleepover had been, I couldn’t continue to impose on her and her son indefinitely.
I was an adult, after all. It was important to be able to stand on my own two feet, and I was more than a little ashamed I’d never attempted it before now. I mean, yes, I worked hard, but if I’d had a “real” paying job earlier, I wouldn’t be in this position.
