Page 70 of Beauty and Kaos

Chapter 20

Ivy

Iwander through the kitchen with several sleeves of styrofoam cups and a box of straws, pushing open the double swinging doors with my ass as I pause at the server station and dump everything onto the table. I try to put everything I just learned this afternoon out of my mind, worried that someone could just look at me, and read it on my face. There’s one person I know capable of that, and I know it’s only a matter of time before he appears.

I open one of the sleeves and start stocking the cups when movement at the bar catches my eye. Zaden strides in through the front door and ducks beneath the bar to talk to Nick. They laugh, and Nick slides him a to-go cup before Zaden dips back out. Our eyes collide, and he pauses, his gaze sweeping over me.

Shit. I feel like a caged animal. How do I avoid him when he fills up the whole room every time he enters it?

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. “You disappeared.”

I nod. “I do that.”

“You should reappear at some point,” he advises, reaching out to toy with the tendrils of hair beside my face.

“I know.” I swallow hard, glancing back toward the bar and hoping Evan doesn’t walk out and see us.

“A bus just pulled into the overflow lot,” he says, taking a drink from his cup. “Softball team. You’re about to get like twenty kids and a handful of adults.”

I curse. That’s really harder than I want to work right now.

He tilts his cup toward me. “LIT?”

I know I need to push him away, but I grab his straw and pull it to my lips, searching for strength somewhere in that cup. The ice is cold, but the liquid hits me like fire. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“There’s no tea in your Long Island,” I comment, licking my lips as his eyes drop to my mouth.

He smiles. “That’s how I like it.”

The front doors open, and people in red-striped uniforms and knee-high socks begin to pile into the gift shop.

“You’re about to be slammed too,” I comment, and he shakes his head.

“Nope. All those kids want chicken tender baskets. That’s on Chris.”

My eyes meet his. “Chris is back?” I feel a surge of nervous energy run through me. He must hate Paige. And if he found out who I really am, he would hate me, too.

Zaden nods. “He’s here. I wouldn’t ask him for the world, but he’s present.”

“I’ve never asked anyone for the world,” I admit honestly.

“Why?” He asks, his thumb brushing against the side of my jaw. “Afraid someone might give it to you?”

I open my mouth to say something else, then shut it. His ice-blue eyes sparkle with amusement, and I struggle to keep from losing myself in them. I take another long drink from his cup, then move to step around him, pressing my body flush against his as I squeeze past.

“Bye, Leela,” he says, watching me stride over to the hostess stand. I hear the kitchen doors swing closed behind me, and I know he’s gone.

I take a deep breath. Fuck. Getting involved with him was a huge mistake. He makes me want to abandon everything I’ve been working toward and just live my fabricated life. I could be Ivy. I could live in Pelican Beach and fall in love with a grill cook. There’s only a handful of people in Gray’s Cove who know Skye, and one of them may be gone forever. Only I know the truth. I can lock it away with the rest of my darkness and conveniently lose the key.

My mom did.

I fill my entire section at once and spill into half of Giana’s, so we decide to work it together and split the tip. I start running, and don’t stop for nearly two hours. I fill drinks, run food, clean up spills, apologize to other tables for the noise, apologize for long ticket times, fill cracker baskets, sweep cracker crumbs, and finally split seven different checks across thirteen tables. By the time I drop credit card receipts, I’m exhausted and need a break.

I leave my section dirty, hoping it won’t get sat, and yell to Giana that I’m going outside. I walk out onto the employee deck, taking a deep breath as the salt breeze hits me. In a fierymosaic of oranges and blues, the sun sinks slowly beneath the waves, reflecting through the clouds building just offshore.

I shove my hands into my pockets, then frown, and remove my hand. Curled into my palm is the photo of Paige and Evan. I forgot to leave it back in the room. It’s haunting me, like she is. Begging for me to find her while I stumble around on this fucking beach, lost and failing everyone.

I sit back on the picnic table, grabbing for a lighter that someone left. Holding the photo in front of me, I strike the lighter and hold it close to the edge of the photo, focusing on Paige. When we were kids, I had to work to make her smile. To find the happiness buried beneath all the chaos in our lives. But here, with Evan, she looks happy. I don’t know what to do with that. I move the lighter to the corner of the paper where Evan stands, and a small trail of smoke appears.

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