“You’re doing good,” he says with a frown. “Beginners luck, I guess.”
I look up, daring myself, and catch a partial smile from Johnny. My flutters catch in my throat. If he weren’t such a jerk, he would be extremely attractive.
A jolt of excitement swells my chest. “Does that mean I’m hired?”
Johnny looks over his shoulder toward where he was standing with Roy, but Roy is gone. “I don’t know. We’ll call you if you are. You can go.”
I stare back at him, mystified. I don’t know why, but something feels so off with what he’s telling me. “But you just told me I did good.”
He grabs the skillets from my hands and stares me dead in the eyes. “I also just told you that you can go.”
With that, he backs out through the swinging doors and walks straight toward my table.
Today marks the start of the eighteenth year of my life, a milestone that Rose believes to be cause for a celebration. I, on the other hand, have been dreading everything about it and am currently contemplating an escape. It’s either that, or I’ll be forced to walk down those spiral steps and make nice with dozens of strangers.
My stomach knots as I stare out the open doors of my balcony while the sun makes its ascent against a bright-blue backdrop. It’s only ten in the morning, and the party is already in full swing downstairs. I can hear the guests’ happy chatter, smell the hot catering dishes, and feel every ounce of excitement reverberating through every inch of the house.
The door to my room opens a crack, and Charlotte pokes her head through, a sympathetic look on her face. “It’s time, Kat. Are you ready?”
I let out a nervous laugh and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
Charlotte frowns. “What’s wrong? Besides your tiff with Rose.”
I chew my bottom lip while my anxiety eats away at me. I’m still upset at Rose for going behind my back to get Alec to take me out, but that’s not what’s bothering me today. “I think Rose’s wild stories and crazy imaginings are getting the better of me.”
She steps into my room and shuts the door. “Why do you say that?”
I swallow. “I had another dream last night.”
Charlotte looks to be considering her words. Then she waves me over to the vanity desk to sit. “Come. Tell me all about it while I do your hair and makeup.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want makeup.”
She sighs. “Must you always be so stubborn? Come. Sit.”
The sternness in her tone causes my heart to jump, and I do as she says. While she lightly applies foundation to my face, I tell her all about my first dream and why this one haunts me more. “My dream last night was the same—except the girl in the mirror wasn’t me this time. It was Rose.”
I shudder at the memory of waking up in a cold sweat. I didn’t plan to tell Charlotte, but I also didn’t expect the dream to weigh so heavily on my heart, like I’m supposed to be decoding something important.
“Perhaps your dream was a combination of things. You’ve been pretty upset at your grandmother. I would aim to guess that your anger toward Rose, combined with your nerves about today, could certainly stir up your imagination.”
I bow my head. “I suppose. But do you blame me? What Rose did was so embarrassing.”
Charlotte is silent for a beat. “Rose is a woman who gets what she wants. In this case, she wants you to stay in Apollo Beach. Her methods were—”
“Wrong,” I cut in before Charlotte can make an excuse for her.
She sighs. “Yes, but Alec didn’t have to agree. It’s not like Rose paid him off or anything.”
I frown. “How do I know that?”
Rose insists all she did was ask Alec to befriend me. But for some reason, that still doesn’t sit right with me.
“Because,” Charlotte says, “Rose is a very powerful woman in the position she’s in because of her honesty. She has no reason to lie to you, Kat.” She gives me a reassuring smile and backs away. “All done. Do you want me to walk with you?”
I shake my head and watch as she steps back out of my room and softly closes the door behind her. It doesn’t matter how deeply hurt I still am. Unfortunately, in Rose’s eyes, that betrayal doesn’t release me from my duties as a Summer. That’s what she called my presence at my own birthday party. A duty.
Filling my lungs with the deepest breath I can take, I pause in front of the vanity mirror to take one final glance at myself. I have to admit, the green baby-doll chiffon dress Charlotte picked for me is gorgeous. It’s strapless with a heart-shaped bodice, and it flows down to a couple of inches above my knees. Simple touches like mascara and blush accentuate my long eyelashes and rosy cheeks. Light eyeliner defines my light-blue eyes, which seem to be becoming a brighter gray with every day that passes. But it’s my hair that strikes me the most. The length alone has grown so much over the few short weeks, from the tips of my shoulders to halfway down my back. Seeing my reflection now, I’m thankful Charlotte insisted on curling it.
When I reach the top of the spiral staircase, I peer over the rail and down into the great room. It’s as if I’m overlooking a scene from a Mardi Gras parade, with explosions of color decorating the room. Generous arrangements of food and beverages are lined up on a long table, a folk band plays spirited music from the corner, and arrangements of white flowers are sprinkled just about everywhere. The celebration looks more like a summer solstice celebration than a birthday party, and for that, I’m grateful.
My heart takes off at a canter as I take my first tottering steps down the staircase. I’ve never worn heels before, and it was probably a mistake to start today. Strangers stare up at me from the foyer, their smiles making me look away as they welcome me to my own party. A queasiness churns my stomach the closer I get to the circus below. I’m so focused on the forced smile on my face that I completely miss a stair and lose my balance on the final step.
An arm shoots out and wraps my waist, steadying me before I can topple onto the marble floor. I’m staring down at the strong arm wrapped in black fabric that buttons at the wrist and my heart jumps into my throat. It can’t be. I snap my head up to find myself staring directly into the devastating blue eyes of Johnny Pierce.
“What are you doing here?”
He might have just saved me from major embarrassment, but his glare is no different than when I saw him last. Then his brows rise, and he glances over at his other arm currently holding a tray of appetizers. “What does it look like to you?”
I roll my eyes and step away from him, patting down my dress like my near spill was powerful enough to wrinkle it. “Of course,” I mutter sarcastically under my breath. “I didn’t know Island Grille catered.”
Johnny averts his gaze, but not before I see him check out my dress. “For someone who wanted a job, you sure failed to do your research.”
My mouth drops open. The audacity of this man is inconceivable. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t want the job anymore, so research isn’t necessary.”
“Good to know. I’ll let Roy know.”
“What are you talking about? It’s been two weeks. You said you’d call if I got the job.”