Page 145 of Small Town Firsts

Bayside Café is a local institution and so much more than your average café. Or at least it was. The food used to be over-the-top small plates that were busting with flavors from all over the globe.

Growing up, it was owned by my longtime crush’s—a.k.a. my brother’s best friend’s—grandparents. From about age ten to fifteen, I imagined Alden and me getting married and running it together. From sixteen to seventeen, I became determined to make himseeme. And he did. Through beer goggles. Our one and only hook-up ended with me knocked up and him with no memory of us even sleeping together, much less that he was my first…so no happy ending for us—obviously.

Even though there’ll never be an Alden and me, my dreams of running Bayside persisted. Especially after his grandma passed away and his pops was moved to an assisted living community. The café was handed down to his uncle, who sold it—the rat bastard. Now, we serve deli sandwiches and soups-of-the-day and fruit cups. And if we’re getting sold again…well, there go my dreams of working my way up to running the place one day. Hell, I’ll be lucky if the alleged new owner even keeps the staff.

I tuck my phone back into my purse just as Tatum hops down from her chair. “All done! You ready?”

I scoop up the last bite of my mint chip and swallow it down. “Totally ready,” I say, with much more bravado than I’m feeling, and together we set off back toward the house.

CHAPTER 8

NATALIE

It’s once againone ofthosedays.

Even though I was in bed by eight, I overslept, and had to rush through getting ready.

Tatum also wasn’t feeling it this morning. She hated every outfit I picked out. She wanted her pink juice cup, but we couldn’t find it. She wanted to bring her Troll doll to school, but it isn’t show-and-tell day. It was one thing after another. All trivial things, mind you. But all together, they had my pulse racing.

By the time I got her dropped off at daycare, I was a hot, frazzled mess.

But it’s a Monday, so I’m cutting myself some slack. Plus, I still have fifteen minutes before the stupid staff meeting, and it’s only a five-minute drive from Tatum’s daycare.

So, yeah, totally winning.

I breeze through the employee entrance at seven fifty-five on the dot—thanks to hitting two red lights. Jenny immediately rushes over to me, practically bouncing on the toes of her black, restaurant standard, non-slip sneakers.

“Oh. My. Good. God. Girl!”

Grinning at her early morning enthusiasm, I arch a brow at her. “What’s got you all excited?”

“Word in the kitchen is the sale is as good as done,andwe get to meet the new owner today. I overheard Giselle saying she saw him and that he is fiiiiine.” Mind you, her name is actually Jess Elle, but she says it isn’t sophisticated enough and insists we all call her Giselle.Whatevs.

“Yeah, well…” I trail off. “I guess we’ll see soon enough.”

“Girl. You could at least pretend to be excited about some new eye candy.”

I shrug my shoulders. As pathetic as it sounds, there’s only one guy who has ever truly caught my eye, and last I heard he was in France and engaged to fucking Mia. Even now, after all these years, thoughts of her make me stabby.

At promptly eight o’clock, our daytime manager, Carlos, ushers us all into the dining room. Jenny and I snag a two-top near the back—that way we’ll be able to whisper back and forth as this meeting drones on.

Before everyone even has a chance to sit down, Carlos starts. “Thanks for being here today guys.”

“Like we had a choice,” someone near the front mumbles.

Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose and continues. “As I was saying, I know it’s early and a lot of y’all don’t even work today, so I appreciate it. Before we get into the heavy stuff, I want to thank everyone who worked on-site at the Benson wedding shower last weekend. I know it was hot, but y’all killed it.”

Don, our owner, who is every bit as lackluster as his name, steps up behind Carlos. He taps his foot impatiently as Carlos continues. Finally, Don taps his shoulder. “All right guys—guess I’m going to turn it over to head honcho.”

Don takes the mic and taps it three times, testing it as if Carlos wasn’t just speaking into it. “I know there have beenrumors about me wanting to sell this place. Well, they were true, and after noon today, I’ll no longer be the owner of this dump.”

His careless words spark a hot fury in my veins. This place wouldn’t be a dump if it weren’t for him and his apathetic, absent ownership. The only thing that jackass does is scrawl his name across our paychecks.

“Now then, let me introduce y’all to the new owner, Alden Warner.”

At the sound of his name, I gasp, sucking air down the wrong pipe, causing me to choke so hard that I’m sure it looks like I’m sobbing. Hell, maybe I am. I’m certain my face is beet red, and I sound like a barking baby seal. My vision is blurred by my salty tears, but I canfeeleveryone looking at me. I cover my face with my hands in a paltry attempt to hide.

Right when I think my humiliation couldn’t possibly get any worse, the universe decides to prove me wrong.

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