Page 57 of Brutal King

He stopped sweeping and looked up at me. “Katrina.” He set aside the broom and came to me. “You were so upset when you left. I didn’t expect to see you here again.”

I shrugged. “We can’t let this setback stop us. Ginger will open. It may be a few weeks later than planned, but we will open.”

“I admire your tenacity. For someone so young and inexperienced, you sure don’t give up easy.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“You’re right. I’m sure Mr. Singh will appreciate that. At least, I hope he will. After all, you’ll have missed the deadline. I hope that won’t affect your grade too much.”

I didn’t feel the need to tell him that I’d quit the academy. All I wanted to do was get busy cleaning up the place. I grabbed the broom and took up where Trent had left off.

“While you take care of that, I’ll go clean up my office.”

“Okay,” I muttered.

Before heading back, he came to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “I hate to see you looking so glum, Kat. What can I do to cheer you up?”

“Not much.” Clinging to the broom, I turned to get to work.

He turned me to him and pulled me into his arms. “I’m so sorry this had to happen.”

“I know.”

“We’ll get through this together.”

I nodded, biting back tears. As I looked around, the reality of what happened set in. Not only was the restaurant in ruins, but I had dropped out of my dream school, and had finally cut all ties with Kobe. Ahhh, Kobe.

“Whatever you need, you just let me know.”

I nodded again and he gently kissed me on the lips before kissing away a stray tear. A part of me wanted to fall into his arms and rely on his strength, but I, too, wanted to be strong and hold my own.

With a final pat on my shoulder, he turned and headed to his office.

I swept the floor, my heart aching at the sight of every glass and every dish. While I was motivated to work hard, it was difficult to really put my heart in it. And though I tried to convince myself that I was heartbroken by the damage to Ginger, I knew that my breakup with Kobe was also to blame.

Just as I was about to stand the broom in the corner, the door to the restaurant opened.

“We’re not open,” I said as I turned around. “Dad!”

He smiled, that warm paternal smile that always reassured me that all would be okay. I ran into his arms.

“Oh, Dad.”

“I’m happy to see that you haven’t given up. It’s good to see you coming here to help clean up.”

“Did I hear someone come in?” Trent said as he came into the dining room. “Oh, Mr. Lee.” He analyzed the scene, me in my father’s arms. “What a pleasure seeing you, though it is under unfortunate circumstances.”

“My daughter was quite distraught. I wanted to stop by to assess the damage myself before going on to the Academy to reassure her.” He squeezed my shoulder. “But here she is already doing what she can to repair the damage.”

Trent’s gaze darted from me to my father, to me and to my father again as he put two and two together.

“So, we have a few broken chairs, a few smashed tables and a number of shattered dishes, right?” Dad said.

“And some dented pots and pans,” Trent added. “And, of course, the King name sprawled across my office wall.”

His hands in his pockets, Dad strolled through the dining room, headed back to the kitchen, glanced into the office then returned to the dining room. “Okay. I’ve seen enough. I’ll check with my insurance to see what we can do.”

“Good idea, sir,” Trent said.

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