Page 27 of Bloom and Burn
“Call your parents, I’d like to have a chat with them. I will not tolerate people picking on my staff or causing injury.”
The death-glare the kid shoots Jack’s way is as priceless as the concern displacing his smug expression. Jack gives him a pointed look as the owner demands again to speak with the parents. He jogs over to the waitress waiting by the kitchen door to make sure she’s okay before he returns to me and Emily.
“Sorry,” he mutters, pushing the door open. “I can’t believe people were about to ignore such shitty behavior. And that poor waitress…”
“Good thing you have a vendetta against bullies, isn’t it?” Emily muses, her comment causing him to scowl at her. She ignores that and turns to me, “He used to be one, believe it or not.”
Oh, shit. That’s my way in, a way to ask about things I’ve been wondering about. After the display in Bo’s, there is no doubt left in me that Jack is nothing like the awkwardbully wanna-be that he was when we were in high school, and I’m going to know how that came to be.
“Really? You were?” I prod. He looks a little uncomfortable, but I’m not letting this chance slip.
“For a bit,” he says, sourness lacing his words. “When we lived here. I didn’t… do anythingthisbad, but I didn’t prevent it from happening either.” He’s walking slightly ahead of me and Emily, so I can’t see his expression, but his voice is enough to tell me that it’s something he genuinely regrets and is ashamed of.
Good.
“What made you stop?” I blurt out, only wondering if I should have asked when the question is already out of my mouth. But as I wait for his answer, the need to know grows as strong as the one to make out with him.
It’s Emily that replies as we reach the parking lot. “My accident. There were some assholes that used to make fun of me and Jack would go nuclear on them.” She hums, her gaze drifting off to some memory. “But anyhow. Jack was a confused, but good kid, Ryan, I personally vouch for that. He used to hang out with bullies while we lived here, but he hated every minute of it,” she informs me, her eyes smiling and full of hope. “And he would’ve righted his ways eventually, even if my accident didn’t happen.”
I can tell she means it, just like I can discern the hint of sadness that settles into her features. It’s in her smile first and then in her eyes, both losing that lovely spark they usually carry. She’s strong, incredibly so. Independent, smart, confident, kind. I can’t begin to imagine what she’s gone through, what losing your legs does to a person, but as I watch the two siblings exchange fond looks, I hope that Jack will help her like he’s set out to do.
They are both good people, the kind I want to have in my life. I don’t care about the past—I was over it even before Jack popped back into my life again and showed me he’d changed—it’s the now and the future that matter.
“I wanted to fit in with the cool boys,” he volunteers. “It’s silly and it doesn’t absolve me, but…” he trails off, leaving it at that. “I always regretted trying to be like them.”
He still doesn’t remember me. Part of me wants him to, but the other one thinks it’s really better this way, so I decide to move past that and not bring it up. I got handed that clean slate, so I’m going to take it.
We get into Jack’s SUV and go over the cookies-and-feedback plan as we head back to the Blooming Orchid.
“By the way, are you still looking for an assistant?” Emily asks me suddenly, leaning over the passenger side’s window as I step out of the car.
“You mean for the Orchid?”
She tilts her chin at the sign on the door. “Yep.”
No one has called yet and I’m starting to think that I might need to do a crash course on accounting. “I haven’t found anyone yet, no.”
She claps her hands, grinning from ear to ear. “Perfect. I’ll work for you then.”
I blink at her. “You what?”
“Ask Jack—he can tell you how good I am. Half of the reason we are a billion-dollar company is me.”
“I attest to that,” he’s quick to say, smiling at his sister proudly.
I feel like the two siblings have been conspiring about that for a while, waiting for the perfect chance tostrike. “One, you are way too overqualified for this, and two, you already have a job.”
My very sound arguments do nothing to stave her off. “And? I’m not doing much right now, so I have a lot of downtime. It’s boring.”
“You don’t even need the money!” I laugh. “And I’m not sure I can play your premium anyway.”
She drums her fingers against the SUV’s door. “Oh, did I forget to mention that I am volunteering? Temporarily. This is an internship until you find an actual assistant and you won’t be paying me.”
I narrow my eyes at her. I could use the help, and I bet she can teach me a thing or two as well. But I don’t know, even if she seems genuinely pumped up about it.
“Come oooon, Ryan. I’m dying at the house. There’s nothing to do all day!”
Ugh. What do I do? “I don’t know. I’d feel bad not paying you…”
