“Which one?”
Nina blinked nervously several times. “Uh, the, uh, Daily Grind. Good name for a coffee shop, huh?”
Sarah didn’t let up. “And where in San Francisco is it?”
“Well, uh, it was in the Embarcadero, but it closed down a month ago.”
“So you’ve never worked in a restaurant before?”
“No.” Nina stood her ground. “But I’m eager to learn.”
“Humph.” Sarah aimed a look at Joe as if to say, God, a newbie? What were you thinking!
He said, “Nina will be busing tables tonight and helping with the dish washing, since Nathan’s out of action.”
“In those heels?” Sarah gestured at Nina’s fancy cowboy boots. “You won’t last an hour.”
Nina’s cheeks flushed as she lifted her chin. “I’ll be fine.”
Joe glanced at Nina’s boots. They were definitely sexy, but also impractical, and the leather looked damp. He was about to explain that Nina’s stuff had been stolen, but stopped himself, figuring she probably didn’t want everyone knowing her personal problems.
Sarah all but rolled her eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Joe tugged at Nina’s elbow. “You’ll meet the rest of the staff when you come on duty. Right now, I need you to get moving on those guest rooms.”
When they were out in the lobby, Nina turned to him. “Did I do something to annoy Sarah? I get the feeling she doesn’t like me much.”
But Vince likes you. The thought intruded into his mind without warning. Why did that bother him? Vince was a good friend. He was an easygoing guy who liked a lot of people—that was what made him such a good bartender.
“Sarah can be prickly,” he said. “She’s a perfectionist, but if you work hard and pull your weight, she’ll come around.”
Nina moved closer, near enough for him to see the faint dusting of freckles across her pert nose and the tiny pulse beating at the base of her throat. “I intend to, and I’m grateful to you for giving me a chance.”
Joe’s concentration drifted to her mouth, those soft pink lips inciting illicit thoughts. Hell, he’d like to give her something more than just a chance.
“Let’s see how you do tonight,” he said.
“Sure thing. Why don’t I clean that up for a start?” She nodded at the remaining spilled lavender oil in the corner of the reception lobby. “I’m not allergic to lavender, so you can keep the pink gloves for yourself.”
He ignored the quip. “That’d be great.”
She drew in a deep breath and flexed her arms like she was about to run a race. “This is a new beginning for me.”
“Yeah?” Once again his curiosity piqued. “You’re turning over a new leaf or something?”
“Not only a new leaf—I’m turning over a whole tree.”
“Well, just remember not to drop a load on me while you’re doing all this turning.”
“I won’t, Joe. I promise. You won’t regret hiring me.”
Famous last words. Joe rubbed his upper lip as he watched her bend over the bucket he’d left in the lobby. The sight of her tight, round butt captivated him. Those boots of hers looked expensive, especially compared to the rest of her clothes. How could she afford them? Maybe she had a shoe fetish…aw, hell. Now he couldn’t help picturing her wearing nothing but those boots.
…
Nina was ready to lose it. If Sarah told her one more time to move her ass, she was going to tip her fully laden bus pan over the chef’s head.
Her feet, tortured by her boots, moaned in protest as she carried the full bus pan into the kitchen. Her shoulder muscles had stopped complaining an hour ago and were now numb, but she knew as soon as she sat down they’d start bitching again. It was better to keep moving. Also, staying on the move meant she was less likely to be the target of Sarah’s ire.
Well, this was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? No special favors because of who she was. Yeah, now she knew what life was like on the other side. If she wasn’t aching with exhaustion, she’d have to laugh at the irony.
Nina hefted the bus pan onto the counter where Trevor, the other kitchen hand, worked. In between clearing tables, she’d helped him rinse and wash, though she was a tortoise compared to him. And a clumsy one, too, as she’d broken two plates, the cost of which, Trevor had informed her, would be deducted from her pay.
“Is it always this busy on a Thursday night?” she asked, leaning against the counter to give her feet a break.
“Gets busier every month.” Trevor kept on stacking dirty dishes as he talked. “Sarah’s new menu is a hit. You gotta try her twice-cooked pork belly with lentils.”
Nina groaned. “Stop talking about food. All I had was a burger and fries like twelve hours ago.” It felt like twelve hours, though in reality less than three hours had passed since she’d been allowed to chow down a quick meal before the dinner service started. The burger had been very good. Since then she’d been working nonstop under the tyrannical rule of Sarah.
“Hey, Nina, quit lazing around there.” The same tyrant scowled at her from across the kitchen. “Make yourself useful. There’re some tables in the bar area that need clearing.”
Sarah would make a perfect sergeant major, Nina thought as she left the kitchen. The bar was crowded, too, but despite that, Vince came over while she was loading her bus pan.
“You look wiped out,” he said sympathetically.
Nina was about to agree but held her tongue. She didn’t want Joe hearing from his bartender as well as his chef how inadequate she was. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted the dirty plates more energetically.
“I’m managing.” She dropped the plates into the bus pan. “So where’s Joe tonight?” She thought he’d be around, if only to intervene in case she was a complete disaster, but she hadn’t seen him all evening, and that had made her first shift more tiring. If Joe had been there, she’d have made darn sure to not show any hint of exhaustion.
“Thursday night is soccer practice. Joe’s the team captain, so he never misses a session.”
It figured that Joe played soccer. Those long legs and athletic build of his were made for the game. And she wasn’t surprised he was the captain of his team. From what she’d seen, Joe liked directing the action, being in charge. She wondered what he looked like after playing soccer. He’d be all muddy and sweaty, and he’d have to strip off and take a shower… She gave herself a mental slap. Damn, she shouldn’t be fantasizing about her new boss in the shower.
She grabbed her bottle of ammonia and sprayed the cleared table fiercely before attacking it with her cloth.
“You’re enthusiastic.” Vince said. “When your shift’s over, why don’t you stop by for a drink? It should be a lot quieter by then.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
Vince was a nice guy. It would be a pleasant change to chat with him instead of Sarah or Joe. But an hour later, when Sarah finally allowed her to go, all Nina could think about was falling into bed. Her entire body ached, and if she sat down at the bar she was sure she’d collapse headfirst into her drink. After struggling all night to keep up the pretense that she was an experienced worker, she couldn’t let people see her fall to pieces.
And that went for Joe, especially. When she returned to the bar and saw him at the counter talking with Vince, she pinned back her aching shoulders and forced a spring to her step, ignoring her screaming arches. No way would she let him see how wiped out she was.
“How did your first shift go?” Joe gave her a thorough once-over. Those dark brown eyes didn’t seem to miss a thing.
Standing tall, despite the spasm in her lower back, she smoothed away her hair. “I didn’t injure anyone, and I only broke a couple of plates, if that’s what you mean.”
He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. Next to Joe’s spruced-up freshness, she felt even more frazzled. He’d showered, judging by the dampness of his hair, which gleamed like polished ebony. A lustrous lock curled across his forehead. His tanned skin glowed after his exercise, and his jaw was freshly shaven. Her stomach did a weird little flip. Joe looked fantastic and incredibly sexy. A sudden, inconvenient urge to stroke his jaw and smooth back that stray lock of hair ambushed her.
“Great.” He tilted his chin at her boots. “So your feet aren’t killing you?”
“Not at all.” She stuck out one foot and wriggled it around. “I could go clubbing right now.”
“No clubs around here, but we do have alcohol.” He gestured at the bar stool next to him. “Want a drink?”
Oh, boy, did she need a drink. And a seat. But if she sank into that stool, she’d never get up. Worse, she wouldn’t be able to stop ogling or sniffing him. Bad idea.
“I’ll pass.” She shook her head. “Think I’ll just take a shower and go to bed.”
“Good idea. We’re expecting a full house tomorrow and there’s a heap of cleaning still to be done. Can you start at seven thirty? Guests sometimes arrive before noon, and I like their rooms to be ready.”