Jessa James - Dr. Hottie

“You know?” he asked as they sat side by side and stared out the window. “I’ve never really lived with a girl before.”

“Never really? Or never-never?” she asked.

“Never-never. Maybe I should get to know you a little better to make the experience… not so freaking weird. So you were born here, right?”

“Yep. Don’t be jealous.”

“Didn’t you ever want to get away? I mean, before college?”

“Only every single day of my life. It got worse when my mom was diagnosed… well, let’s just say that my wanderlust hasn’t died.” She grabbed another slice and propped her feet up on the boxes, a makeshift coffee table.

“So, why don’t you go?” he asked. “I mean now, especially. What’s keeping you here?”

“You’ve seen my sister,” Addy said with a laugh. “Would you leave her in charge of everything? Anything?”

Jack thought about it. “She’s not so bad. She’s a kid. I mean, think about it. You could be… I dunno, hiking the Himalayas! Something.”

Addy shot him a look. “Do you know it costs over sixty thousand to climb Mount Everest? And that’s just to try, there’s no guarantee you’ll make it to the top. You grew up with money, didn’t you?”

“I, uh, I guess so. Why?”

“Because sixty thousand is a lot of money. Just walking away from everything to spend weeks ‘finding yourself’ or whatever costs a lot of money. And if you don’t have it… well, you get used to looking at the scenery around you. And you keep your head down. If you’re from my family, you thank your lucky stars that you made it to twenty-three. I knew, growing up, that life was a precious commodity—”

“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. Let’s change the subject. Tell me something you like.”

“Something I like?”

“Yeah, anything.”

“Strawberry ice cream.”

“Quite the discerning palate. But I agree.”

“You tell me something you like.”

“Base jumping and deep-sea diving.”

“Very frugal choices.”

“Hey, I don’t judge you, you don’t judge me. Your turn.”

“Photography,” she said, without pause.

“Looking at photographs or taking them?”

“Both. Your turn.”

“Race cars.”

“Watching them, or owning them and racing them?”

“Both,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Your turn. One more.”

“Art,” she said, and gazed into the distance.

“That doesn’t count. Photography is art.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she said with a small smile.

“You should really go to Rome and Paris. And Barcelona! And Medellín, the Botero statues around the city are amazing—”

“Your privilege is showing,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Maybe we’ll go there together.”

Addy sat up, stiff. “Let’s not … like, make plans and stuff. This isn’t real, remember?”

“What? If we’re faking a marriage, we can fake a honeymoon? It’s no big deal. I’d go anyway, and I’d enjoy the company—”

Addy stood up and picked up the discarded napkins and dirty plates.

“I’ll take those,” he said. Jack grabbed the plates and dumped them in the trash.

“What are you doing!?”

“We’ll buy new ones,” he said with a shrug.

“That’s wasteful. And arrogant,” she said with a scowl.

“Sorry. So, what do you want to do? I can stream Netflix on—”

“Actually, I’m tired. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“Bed? But it’s just ten o’clock!”

“Some of us have the opening shift.”

She disappeared into the bedroom with a solid click of the door.

Damn. Are all women this touchy?

Addy groaned as she kicked off her scuffed black Dansko clogs in the small employees’ room tucked behind the kitchen. Even the slow season in Tahoe tested her with each shift.

For the past eight hours she’d been on her feet as she rushed from table to table or expertly folded cloth napkins around flatware.

She pulled the tips out of her pockets and apron. Addy had been scheduled for the past ten days straight, not counting the day she’d called off with the hangover to end all hangovers.

Thank God the two new girls I hired will be starting soon, she thought.

“Hey!” Her sister stood in the doorway, fresh-faced and ready to take over the transition from lunch shift to happy hour. “Have you seen Dawn?”

“Yeah,” Addy said with a sigh. “I think she went on a dumpster run a few minutes ago. Wasn’t that supposed to be your job, Kenzie?”

Her sister wrinkled her nose.

“Sorry, I was running late,” she said. “I had to stop for coffee, you know. Can’t exactly work the night shift uncaffeinated.”

Kenzie held up her staple six-dollar coffee.

“We have coffee here, you know. For free. Have you counted the tills again? Make sure all the menus are switched to dinner, too. And don’t forget about the—”

MacKenzie rolled her eyes and turned away.

“Yeah, I’ll get to it! Geez, just go home already. All these morning shifts are making you cranky.”

“Kenzie!” Addy called to her sister’s retreating back.

She jumped up to go after her and heard the clang of change fall to the floor.

“Damn,” she whispered under her breath, but shoved her aching feet back into the shoes. She called out again as she bolted down the hall to catch her sister. “Kenzie!”

“What?” Kenzie asked, annoyed. “It’s just a restaurant. It’s not like it’s brain surgery or something.”

“You know why this is so important! And it’s not ‘just’ a restaurant. It’s Dad’s restaurant. Mom and Dad’s restaurant…”

Kenzie sighed and put down the coffee.

“I know that,” she said slowly. “You think I forgot? And it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve reminded me.”

Addy crossed her arms.

“Do I think you forgot? Maybe. You forgot three times last week about some pretty basic opening and transition tasks. Luckily for you it isn’t brain surgery.”

“Addison Marie Fuller,” Kenzie said as she cocked her head sideways. “Are you saying you don’t think I’m smart enough to be a brain surgeon?”

“I just don’t know why you have to make everything a struggle for me,” Addy grumbled.

Kenzie leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek, just like their mom used to do.

“You worry too much,” Kenzie said. “It’s not good for you. Premature wrinkles.”

She flashed Addy that golden smile that worked on everyone else before she shot out the saloon doors toward the front of the house.

“You forgot to count the tills again,” Addy said quietly.

They were still stacked neatly with Addy’s precise handwriting on the point of sale tape rolls. She drew in a deep breath and began counting them again herself.

There’s no way Dawn can do it, she thought.

Addy and Kenzie had learned quickly that while Dawn could charm her way into making the most tips out of any of them, she was useless when it came to math.

“Oh my God! Addy! Hey!” Kenzie stuck her head into the back.

“What is it now?” Addy asked. “Seriously, I’m not going to help you with—”

“Shh!” Kenzie said in a stage whisper. “Jeremy just came in.”

“Jeremy?”

“Don’t look,” Kenzie said.

“Don’t look? Why would you come back here to tell me he’s here if you don’t want me to look!”

“I just wanted to let you know. In case, you know, you wanted to go out the back…”

“Why would I sneak out the back like I’m the one who did something wrong?” Addy asked.

She was suddenly aware that she must look like hell and smell like a fryer. She hated herself for it, but she instinctually reached up to gauge how messy her ponytail was.