Page 20 of Winning Her

“Yeah,” he said with a frown as we shared a worried glance. “I’ve never heard of him taking a day off work for anything short of a broken arm. And even then he still shows up.”

I didn’t answer. I was trying not to think too hard or too much about what was going on with our dad, or I’d worry myself to death. Mason didn’t say anything either and we got down to business.

Now, I thought to myself, once Mason was looking over some of the paperwork, if only I could get Jessi out of my mind.

But I knew it would be a futile effort even to try, and I was annoyed at myself for it.

8

Jessi

Why am I still thinking about that bastard?

I was in the middle of my shift, finishing dessert after dessert for the guests. I wasn’t my usual efficient self because that bastard was still in my head even hours later. I found myself making mistakes. They were little mistakes, not the kind of things just anyone could notice, but a few of my fellow cooks were shooting me curious looks.

Fuck. I couldn’t get the attention of the head chef. I couldn’t stand that guy most days because he was so damn bossy.

“Jessi?”

“Hm?” I whirled around when someone called my name, to find one of the servers standing awkwardly to the side.

“Um, I’m waiting for the strawberry shortcake slices? Are you done?”

“Oh!” I looked back to where I was still decorating them. “I’m so sorry! I thought I finished already. Just give me a quick minute!”

I didn’t know whether he would take the lie, but he stood silently as I finished decorating. It came out pretty good, but I still winced as I watched them get carried away. I was my own worst critic, even when I got praise. The taste would be good, but it was also supposed to look good, and while that quick job made it look okay, it was not my usual best.

“You’ve got to get it together,” I told myself, taking in a deep breath, then letting it out. “Calm, completely calm, think about nothing but work…”

I was so focused trying to calm my thoughts, I didn’t notice when someone else walked up to me.

“Jessi?”

For the second time, I was startled into whirling around. Mark was standing in front of me.

“Do I have another order?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, giving me a strange look as he handed over the slip. “Are you okay, though? Because you’re distracted today, and if it’s going to be a problem and you need some help…?”

“No, no,” I jumped in quickly, waving my hands. “It’s nothing, just feeling a little tired because I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” Well, it was true. I could barely sleep because all I could think about was Trent, and how much I hadn’t wanted to run into him again. It had happened anyway. “I promise I’m good to work, so don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he said, then shrugged and turned to go back to his area, shooting a last look at me.

Now that I was paying attention to the people in the room, I realized a lot of them kept shooting me looks. They were all probably worried because I wasn’t acting like myself. Ever since I’d started working there, I’d never been anything but professional. But then there’d never been any personal feelings to get in the way of work before.

I wish I could talk to Laura right now, I thought to myself wistfully, but it would have to wait.

I hadn't told her much about what went down between Trent and me, back then or recently, but I’d told her enough. Plus, Laura had listened to our whole exchange earlier which meant I had to tell her a bit more to explain.

Now she knew about my embarrassing crush. The one that a lot of my friends back in high school had known about, but they’d all feigned ignorance to protect my pride. I was pretty sure they realized when I got rejected, too, but then I stopped talking to them after that—so few as they were—and isolated myself for the following few years as I worked hard through school for the sake of landing a scholarship.

“We’re going out tonight,” had been Laura’s deciding words. “I thought we could set the plan for a few days later, or maybe in a couple of weeks, but after all that, you’re going to need something tonight.”

I’d listened to her declaration because she added we would need good tiramisu—that we would be making ourselves—to make a proper evening of it. It was one of my favorite desserts, so I was all for it.

I had a lot of work to do, and nothing else should be on my mind, I reminded myself. Nothing!

“Jessi! We’ve got more orders, so move it, will you?” I heard from behind me somewhere and gave a wave of acknowledgment.