Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
“Oh, absolutely. You’ll be the coolest girl here.”
Olivia pumped her fists into the air, hooting and hollering as she bounced on her toes. “This is the best idea ever!”
I followed her out the door, both of us giggling. When I noticed my son and Olivia’s twin brother, Oliver, was nowhere to be seen inside the restaurant, I assumed he really did need to use the restroom, even though he’d assured me he hadn’t.
“Oliver?” I called out, holding the men’s room door open.
There was a wall separating anyone doing their business and the spot where I was standing, so I couldn’t see anything. Thank God.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Mama, can I go? I want Syd to get started on my face.” Olivia jumped from one foot to the other and tugged on the two dark braids hanging past her shoulders. Her flip-flops smacked against the tile.
“Go ahead, but stay with Syd.”
Even though my children were eight years old and knew better than to wander off, it was ingrained in me to remind them.
I waited until Olivia made it to the front of the restaurant before I turned back to the men’s room. “Is anyone else in there, Oliver?”
“Just a man.”
“Okay. And what’s he doing?”
“Really?” a deep voice answered.
I ignored it, which was what I typically did in situations like this, and pressed on. “Oliver?”
“He’s going to the bathroom, Mom.”
“What else would I be doing in here?” the guy said.
I rolled my eyes at his tone, feeling completely justified in my questioning, and leaned my back against the door, getting comfortable just in case my son was nowhere near finished.
“Do you want to get your face painted like your sister? I bet Syd could do something cool, like a shark or something.”
Water flushed. I heard the faucet kick on—someone was washing their hands.
“No. I wanna do the dunking booth. That looks fun.”
“Do you think you can dunk Uncle Brian?”
“I know I can dunk him.” Oliver’s voiced raced with excitement.
I smiled, picturing my older brother doing anything he could to make sure Oliver could drop him into the water. Brian always went above and beyond with my kids. He was the main reason we’d moved to Dogwood Beach three years ago, leaving Denver, my old life, and our parents behind. We’d lived with him for a while until I found my apartment, and in those few months, Brian and my kids became inseparable.
We were incredibly lucky to have him in our lives. And I frequently made sure he knew that.
I lost some of the smile I was wearing when the man with the eye-roll tone moved out from behind the wall to exit the restroom. He had thick dark brown hair that was styled short, wore black-rimmed glasses, and had a tall, really tall, lean build, with a good amount of muscle putting stress on the button-up shirt he was wearing. I stared at the outline of his biceps a little longer than I meant to as I flattened my back against the door, allowing him room to pass.
“Excuse me,” I offered politely.
His eyebrows shot up. “Do you always hold conversations like that in men’s rooms?”
“If my son is in one of them, then yes,” I answered, pairing my response with a fake smile. I didn’t owe this guy anything. “Either that, or I’m coming in there and making sure nobody’s doing anything they shouldn’t be doing. You can never be too careful—creeps are everywhere.”
The man’s gaze hardened as he looked back at me over his shoulder, like what I’d just said offended him. What did he care? I hadn’t actually walked in on him.
When he reached the door with the word “Manager” written in bold white, he stepped inside the office, disappearing out of view.
“Shit,” I whispered. Eyes pinching shut, I dropped my head back and groaned low in my throat.
I felt bad. I knew that man. Well, I knew of that man. I’d never met him, obviously. But I’d heard stories about Sydney’s boss, who didn’t just manage Whitecaps. He was the owner. All the girls who worked here spoke highly of him. I was good friends with most of them and had heard talk about this guy. In fact, they appreciated him so much, the girls had come up with the carnival idea for today as a way of boosting summer sales for the restaurant and giving back to a man they all very much liked.
And you just alluded to his place of business as being a possible hangout for child predators. Way to go, Jenna.
I wanted to apologize, or at least explain myself. I could also sprinkle in some heavy compliments. Even though we’d eaten here only once before, I thought Whitecaps was a really nice restaurant. I could embellish a little and say it was one we frequented. He’d never know the truth.