“Well, your dessert’s on the house,” I said.
She took a deep breath, blinking just as I saw what I thought was a flash of pain in her eyes. “So, what are our options then?”
I quickly rattled off the dessert menu, having it memorized by heart. “And, tonight’s dessert special is a blueberry cheesecake with blueberry drizzle. Also, chef’s kiss. Blueberries are in season, if you didn’t catch that detail,” I said dryly.
They all went with the blueberry cheesecake.
“Thank God I don’t have to listen to Brad bitch about my weight,” the divorcee said.
I eyed her. “You look amazing. I’m not flirting or anything. I’m just objectively offering that observation. Your ex sounds like a jerk.”
“Ava is adorable!” one of her friends—slightly tipsy—exclaimed.
The entire group giggled.
“Well, no one needs to be married or date anyone who has anything to say about their body that isn’t good, right? We celebrate the female form,” another one of the friends said.
Ava looked a little teary as her eyes arced about the table. She lifted her gaze to mine. “It wasn’t just that he bitched about how I looked. It was that when I found out he was cheating on me, he said it was because I was getting a little chubby. Do I look chubby to you?” She gestured up and down.
“Not at all,” I said firmly. She looked healthy and curvy, and beautiful. “You look amazing, and it’s all for the best. This is a perfect trip for a divorce trip, or whatever this is.”
“Thank you.” She beamed up at me, seeming to have recovered from the earlier flicker of hurt.
I got swept into the rest of the evening, as was always the case, but I couldn’t help checking on them one last time as I brought the check. I caught Ava’s gaze.
“It’s all up from here,” I told her.
“It is, right?” she pressed.
I nodded. “Absolutely.” I smiled at her, lightly squeezing her shoulder. “We all deserve to be treated well. That’s not too much to ask.”
They left me a wildly extravagant tip, which I didn’t discover until after they had gone. The night wound down. I appreciated the later part of these evenings—wiping down the tables, putting things away, and so on. It gave me a chance to wind down after the usually hectic pace. I was just finishing up in the back. The kitchen was quiet, with the soft sounds of clinking and cleaning and the hum of the industrial-sized dishwasher, when I heard Tish’s voice.
“How’s it going, Tori?” she asked.
I glanced over. “Awesome. Another busy night.”
“Is it ever not busy?” Tish mused dryly, her eyes twinkling.
I grinned as I untied my apron and tossed it in the laundry basket in the corner of the break area.
“Definitely not. What are you doing here so late?”
Tish Cannon managed the administrative side of things for Fireweed Industries for the location here in Willow Brook. When I was growing up here, they’d had a mine that shut down at some point. Eventually, they revamped it into a renewable energy business after reopening the offices. Somewhere along the way, someone had decided it would also be smart to open up a winery and restaurant—like their flagship location in Fireweed Harbor, in Southeast Alaska. These additions were nothing but good news for Willow Brook, as far as bringing business and tourists to town.
“Oh, Griffin and I had dinner here, and he’s out there talking with his cousin, Archer. So, you know me, I had to do a loop.”
“A loop?” I teased.
She shrugged lightly, a sheepish smile on her face. “Just check in and see how it’s going.”
“How is Teddy doing?” I asked, referring to her toddler-aged son.
“Allie, Graham’s daughter, is babysitting.”
“Must be nice to have a night out,” I commented.
Tish tipped her head to the side. “Yes, but it’s always weird. If you ever have kids, you’ll see what I mean.” Pausing, she held a hand up. “Not that you have to have kids. Kids aren’t everything.”
