Page 15

"Please don't," I groaned.

He laughed, then checked his watch. "Aren't you supposed to be at the spa soon?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed. "Shit. Yeah, I need to go." I untied my apron and tossed it in the laundry bin. "See you back here at six?"

"I'll be the handsome one in the chef's coat," he called after me as I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of facials, waxing, and listening to wealthy women complain about their husbands' golf habits. By the time I made it back to the Harborview for the dinner shift, I was running on fumes and caffeine.

"You look like hell," James greeted me cheerfully as I tied on a fresh apron.

"Thanks. Just what every girl wants to hear."

"Did Prince Charming call?"

I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Still nothing. "Not yet."

James gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "His loss. Now help me plate these salads before Marco has an aneurysm."

The dinner rush kept me too busy to dwell on Matt's silence. By the time we closed at ten, I was dead on my feet and emotionally drained. All I wanted was a hot shower and my bed.

The mansion was quiet when I got home. Haley and Anna had both texted earlier to say they were staying at Jake's for the night, which meant I had the place to myself. Under different circumstances, I might have invited Matt over. Now, I was just grateful for the solitude.

I took a long shower, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles and wash away the day's disappointments. As I dried off, I caught a glimpse of myself in the steamy mirror—the faint marks on my neck from Matt's stubble, the memory of his touch still lingering on my skin.

"Stop it," I told my reflection sternly. "He's just a guy. One of many who will disappoint you."

But even as I said it, I knew Matt wasn't just any guy. There had been something different about him, something that had gotten under my skin in a way no one had since... well, since Ben. And look how that turned out.

I pulled on an oversized t-shirt and crawled into bed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. Still no call. It was after eleven now—late, but not too late. Maybe he'd been busy. Maybe something really had come up.

Or maybe he'd gotten what he wanted and was already moving on.

I tossed the phone aside and reached for my headphones instead. If there was one thing guaranteed to match my mood right now, it was Five Finger Death Punch. Grabbing my phone again I scrolled to my favourite album, cranked up the volume, and let the aggressive guitars and raw vocals wash over me.

I must have fallen asleep like that, because the next thing I knew, my alarm was blaring and sunlight was streaming through the windows. I groaned, fumbling to silence the noise, my head pounding and my stomach growling in protest.

Right. I'd forgotten to eat dinner. Again.

I checked my phone out of habit, but there were no missed calls. No texts. No explanation for why Matt hadn't called as promised.

"Whatever," I muttered, dragging myself out of bed. I didn't have time to dwell on it anyway. I had to pick up James in forty-five minutes, then open the restaurant, work a shift at the spa, and come back for another dinner service. The glamorous life of the perpetually broke.

I showered quickly, threw on jeans and a sweater, and managed to scarf down a bowl of cereal before heading out. The morning was crisp and clear, the kind of winter day that reminded you why people paid ridiculous amounts of money to live near the coast.

James was waiting on his front step when I pulled up, looking about as awake as I felt.

"You look like hell," I greeted him, echoing his words from the day before.

"Bite me," he grumbled, sliding into the passenger seat. "Not all of us got to sleep through the night. Some of us were up late texting hot guys."

That got my attention. "Oh? Do tell."

"After I hear about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Did he call?"

I kept my eyes fixed on the road. "Nope."

"Really? That's weird. Anna said he was really into you."