Wrecked Palace Read online

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  Caelyn’s expression became guarded. “I swear Big Bertha is fine. All she needed was some coolant.”

  That was far from all that death trap needed. It probably needed to go to the junkyard, but telling Caelyn that would get me nowhere. “I have a job proposition for you.”

  Her green eyes widened a fraction. “A job?”

  “Yeah. I was wondering if you’d be interested in some private chef work?” The idea had been running around in my mind since I’d first overhead Walters and Caelyn talking, I just hadn’t been able to figure out how to make it feasible.

  “But I work here…”

  “This would be something you could do on the side. I was thinking you could prep food at home and then drop it off at my place once or twice a week. You know I basically live on frozen meals, so this could be a huge help if you think you have time.”

  Caelyn eyed me carefully. “But you swear by your frozen meals.”

  I pressed my mouth into a firm line to keep from laughing at her suspicious look. “I think I’ve hit the point where they’re all starting to taste the same. I wouldn’t mind some variety. And I’ve been working longer hours. I need more calories.”

  I watched as Caelyn mulled my offer over in her mind. I hoped like hell she took it. If I could’ve just handed her some extra money, I would’ve. But I’d learned a lot about Caelyn over the years that I’d been coming into the store. And one of those things was that she was incredibly proud. She needed to feel as if she had earned whatever was given to her.

  “I think that could work out really well. If you’re sure you really need it.”

  The muscles between my shoulder blades eased a fraction. “I’m sure. It really would be a big help.”

  Caelyn smiled—no, she beamed. It was the same smile that had made me feel as if I’d taken a solid hit to the solar plexus the first time I’d seen it. She did a little shimmy shake. “This is going to be awesome. I never get to plan full menus here. I’ll need a list of your favorite foods and things that you don’t like.” She gave me a stern look. “And don’t even think about putting ‘all vegetables’ on your list of dislikes.”

  I held up both hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “How many meals a week are you thinking?”

  “All of them, if you can manage it.”

  Caelyn blinked up at me. “Really?”

  “It would be a huge help.” One that I could pay her handsomely for. I cleared my throat. “We should also talk about pay. I was thinking twenty-five hundred a week plus gas and expenses, but we can negotiate if you need more.”

  Caelyn’s jaw fell open, her eyes going wide. “Twenty-five hundred a week? Griffin, that’s insane.”

  “You want three?”

  “Did you get hit on the head by something while you were working on your house? That is way too much money.”

  I chuckled. “No head injuries. I did some research on the going rate for private chefs. Twenty-five hundred a week is pretty standard.”

  “Where? In New York City?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “Lots of places.” Places like New York, Los Angeles, and London.

  Caelyn shook her head. “I’m not taking that much. I’d feel like I was taking advantage.”

  I chose my words carefully. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you taking less than two grand a week. I want to pay you what you deserve.” That much was true. Caelyn was an amazing cook. In the summers, the line for her sandwiches could be out the door. And from the bits and pieces I’d gathered about the woman, she gave and gave and was rarely fully appreciated for all she did.

  Caelyn was silent for a moment before answering. “Okay. When do you want me to start?”

  I grinned. “As soon as possible.”

  She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen from a drawer in the kitchen. “All right. I can probably make the first delivery on Sunday. I’m thinking Sunday will be the big haul and then I can stop by Wednesday or Thursday with a smaller delivery. But we can troubleshoot as we go.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I pulled my wallet out of my pocket and slid out a credit card, handing it to Caelyn.

  “What’s this?”

  “A credit card for expenses.”

  She studied the piece of plastic. “It has my name on it.”

  I shrugged. “I was optimistic you’d say yes.”

  Caelyn laughed, shaking her head. “Well, you are pretty dang convincing.”

  “I do my best. Make sure you track your mileage for gas. Or you can just fill up once a week and put it on the card. It’s up to you.”

  Caelyn’s eyes glistened, the restrained tears making the green seem to sparkle. “This is too much.”

  “No. It’s fair.”

  She took a long breath. “Thank you. This is going to make a huge difference for us.” She studied me. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

  I did my best to soften my expression, the feeling just a bit foreign. “Good things should happen to good people.”

  “You have a kind heart, Griffin Lockwood. Even if you’d rather people didn’t see it.”

  Her words burned as if they’d been seared into my skin with a branding iron. When was the last time someone had said something like that to me? Probably before my parents had passed. They were always telling Beth and me how worthy and loved we were. But that had disappeared along with my family. Caelyn’s words were a physical pain, similar to when frozen fingers first begin to regain feeling.

  My family would’ve been so disappointed in how I’d hidden away from the world. How I’d turned away from those in need around me, too afraid to let anyone in. But maybe I was finding some pieces of myself again. The good parts that I’d left abandoned for far too long.

  6

  Caelyn

  I was going through my day on autopilot. It was a miracle I hadn’t burned myself or put real bacon in a vegan BLT. But all I could think about was the fact that I could finally breathe. The burning in my eyes was back, but I forced the tears down. Tears of happiness and joy and relief.

  I would be able to handle the increase in rent and Mia’s gymnastics. I’d be able to put something away for Will’s college tuition. I might even be able to start saving for those culinary classes, after all. I gripped the edge of the counter and grinned down at the sandwich makings in front of me. I couldn’t wait to tell the kids.

  A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I looked up to see a slender man hovering in the aisle. His eyes darted about, this way and that, and his fingers moved in rapid, nonsensical patterns. Shit. I did not need to deal with this today.

  I slowly pulled open my kitchen junk drawer, grabbing my cell phone and my pepper spray. Our island was small, only fifteen hundred people in off-season, but that didn’t mean we were crime-free. And I was a woman who worked mostly alone until summer hit. The biggest issue on our small chain of islands was drugs. And I knew better than most all of the insidious ways it could infect your life.

  I cleared my throat. “Can I help you, sir?”

  The man jumped. “Uh. I need, uh, I need some smokes.”

  “We don’t sell those here. You’ll have to go to the gas station.”

  He gave a jerky nod and tore out of the store so fast, he almost knocked over a customer coming in. “Frick,” I muttered and rounded the counter of my station to make sure the person was okay.

  “Whoa,” Shay said. “Shoplifter?”

  I shook my head. “I think he was high. What he thought he was going to find in a grocery store to feed his addiction, I’m not sure.”

  Shay glanced over her shoulder with a worried look. “And you were in here with him all alone? That’s not safe, Caelyn.”

  “Oh, I’m fine. I’ve got my pepper spray and the sheriff’s station on speed dial.”

  Shay didn’t seem appeased. “You should think about carrying a taser. Maybe even a gun.”

  My eyes widened. “No way. No guns.
” Too many kids came in and out of the store—mine included. I didn’t want anything around them that could end in the loss of life.

  “A taser, then,” she pressed.

  I studied Shay for a moment and saw the concern creasing her features. She’d been coming into the store for a few years now, ever since she took over as caretaker for one of the small private islands in our little chain. But I truly didn’t know much about her other than that she had a kind smile and word every time she came in. I went on instinct, reaching out and squeezing her arm. “I’m fine. I promise. But I’ll look into getting a taser.”

  The set of her shoulders eased a fraction. “Good.”

  “Now, I’ve got your order in the back. Do you need to do some shopping? Want a sandwich?” Shay only came in once every week or so. I’d taken to placing orders from the mainland for her for whatever she needed. Books, puzzles, specialty items.

  Shay smiled. “You know I can never turn down one of your concoctions. And I’ve got to do a grocery haul.”

  “You do that, and I’ll grab your stuff.”

  Shay paused for a moment. “Maybe you should call the sheriff first. Just to give him a heads-up.”

  “I don’t know that it’s necessary.” Sheriff Raines was a good man, but he didn’t need to be bothered with something as small as this.

  “Better safe than sorry. You don’t want that guy to come back and cause trouble.”

  Shay had a point. I tapped on my cell phone to wake it up. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  I carefully balanced two pizza boxes and a bag of groceries as I shut the SUV door with my hip. First thing tomorrow, I was taking Big Bertha to the mechanic and getting that heater hose fixed. No more overheating for me.

  Not even the midday creeper run-in had marred my day. Sheriff Raines had been more than kind when I called to let him know what had happened. He’d sent a deputy over to check out the gas station and then came to talk to me, but the man had been long gone by then. I appreciated the effort, nonetheless. Hopefully, now that he knew we didn’t carry cigarettes, he’d avoid The General Store.

  I gave my head a little shake as I made my way up the walk. The spring flowers Ava, Mia, and I had planted were just starting to bloom. Before long, the front of our small house would be awash with color.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I called as I pulled open the door.

  “Gifts? I want gifts!” Mia shouted, jumping off the couch.

  “Is that pizza? On a weeknight?”

  The shock in Will’s voice had me fighting a laugh. “And I’ve got stuff for sundaes for dessert.”

  Ava took in the bag from the store. “No carob chips and frozen yogurt?”

  Kenna laughed. “Told you carob wasn’t the same as chocolate.”

  I groaned. I would never live down my attempts to keep this family eating healthily. “No carob or Froyo.”

  Ava’s eyes brightened. “Sprinkles and whipped cream?”

  “You know it.” My chest tightened at the smile on Ava’s face. That alone would’ve been reason enough to bring the treats home.

  Kenna pushed to her feet from her spot on the couch and eyed me suspiciously. “What happened?”

  My brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  She drew a circle in the air with her finger, indicating everything in my hands. “You never bring junk home unless the tiny terrors have been begging for weeks.”

  Kenna had a point. It’s not that I didn’t think the kids should have treats, but I wanted them to have healthy food first. It was one of the few things within my control when it came to our lives, and why working at The General Store had always been so great. Mr. Walters had always given me food that would expire in the next few days. I’d made a game out of creating meals with food gifted from the grocery.

  I shuffled my feet, and Kenna’s eyes narrowed. “Out with it, Shortstop.”

  I choked on a laugh. “You haven’t called me that in years.”

  “It’s a reminder that I can still take you in a fight, and that’s exactly what I’ll do if you don’t fess up to whatever is going on.”

  I’d always been petite, where Kenna was tall and curvy. She’d taken to calling me “Shortstop” in the third grade, and it had stuck for quite some time. I adjusted my hold on the pizza boxes. “Let me just set these down, and then I’ll tell you the good news.”

  Kenna still looked skeptical but followed the kids and me into the kitchen. I set the boxes down and handed the bag of sundae goodies to Will. “Put these away?”

  “Sure,” he agreed.

  I grabbed plates from the cabinets and a salad I’d made yesterday from the fridge.

  “Spill it.”

  I turned to face Kenna and the rest of the gang. “I got a second job.”

  Lines creased Will’s forehead. “You mean a third job? You already have the store and yoga.”

  “Yoga doesn’t really count because I only have a couple of clients. And it’s more fun than anything. This new job pays really well.”

  Kenna arched a brow. “It doesn’t involve a pole, does it?”

  “Kenna!” I chided. “Tiny ears.”

  “A pole like the firemen use?” Mia asked, her eyes going wide. “Are you going to be a fireman, Cae Cae?”

  I shot an unhappy look at Kenna. “No, I’m not going to be a fireman. Kenna was trying to be funny.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ava asked.

  “I’m going to be a private chef. My client just wants me to deliver the meals twice a week, so I can do it from home and still be with all of you. It means Mia can do her gymnastics, and Will, we can start saving for college.”

  Will’s face hardened. “I don’t want you working yourself to the bone to pay for college for me. I’ve been looking around town for a part-time job. I can pay my own way. You’re already wearing yourself out with how much you do. You’re gonna get sick.”

  Mia tugged on my hand, eyes shining. “I don’t want you to get sick. I don’t need the extra classes.”

  I lifted Mia into my arms, sending a stern look in Will’s direction. “You guys, I’m fine. This offer is kind of my dream job. I get to create fun menus for someone. And I cook a ton around here anyway. Why not get paid for doing a little more? I’m not going to get sick, Mi.”

  “Promise?” she whispered, burrowing her face in my neck.

  “Promise.” I adjusted my hold on Mia. Soon, she would be too big for me to even lift her.

  “Who’s the client?” Kenna asked.

  I swallowed hard, avoiding Kenna’s gaze. “It’s Griffin Lockwood.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Will cut in.

  “Will! Language.” I set Mia down on the floor but kept an arm around her.

  Will gripped the back of a chair. “He probably just wants in your pants.”

  “Why would Mr. Griffin want your pants? He wouldn’t fit in them. He’s a giant,” Mia offered helpfully.

  I rubbed my temples. This was not at all how I’d imagined tonight going. “You guys, stop. I want this. It’s a great opportunity, and Griffin is really nice.” I met Will’s stare. “I would think we would know better than most not to believe island gossip about someone. He has been nothing but kind to me, and this job is going to change things for us.”

  Will looked down at the floor, but his tight grip on the chair remained. “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. Now, can we please, for the love of all that’s holy, stuff ourselves silly with pizza and ice cream?”

  “Yes!” Mia shouted, running for the dinner table and plopping down.

  I glanced at Kenna. “You joining us?”

  “Why not? Crosby’s getting in some climbing and grabbing beers with Ford and another friend. I think I’ve earned some pizza with my favorite people.”

  I wrapped an arm around her. “I think so, too.”

  Dinner went off without a hitch. Every last piece of pizza was inhaled, and the sundae bar left the kitchen a disaster. The girls seemed to
bounce right back, but Will was still quiet—not sulky but thoughtful. He excused himself to head to his room early, and before long, Ava and Mia were in bed. But Kenna stayed to help me pick up.

  She handed me a bowl to place in the dishwasher. “You okay?”

  I sighed, slipping the dish in place. “I’m fine. I just thought everyone would be as excited as I am.” And I could admit that it stung a little that they weren’t.

  “Sorry. I’m happy for you, really.”

  I straightened, meeting Kenna’s gaze head-on. “Are you, though?”

  Kenna pressed her lips into a hard line. “I am…”

  “But?” I knew Kenna was holding something back. Somehow, from the beginning, I’d found myself as the baby of our little trio. Maybe because I was a few months younger, or because I was smaller, or because I had a more sensitive nature. Bell and Kenna had always been extra protective of me—almost mothering. But I didn’t need that. I needed my friends to stand beside me.

  Kenna picked up a towel and began meticulously drying her hands. “Wounded bird catnip,” she muttered.

  “I’m not going after Griffin. But what’s the worst thing that would happen if I did? Griffin not returning my feelings? Newsflash, Kenna, I’ve had my heart broken before. In more ways than I can count. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. But I don’t hide away from life because there’s a potential to be hurt.”

  Kenna took a step back as if I had struck her. I muttered a curse under my breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She held up a hand. “No. You’re right. I hid from a lot in life for a long time.”

  “But you don’t anymore.” My friend had been through so much, but she was finally, truly letting people in. “And I’m so proud of you for that. I shouldn’t have said it. Low blow.”

  Kenna pulled me into a tight hug. “Forgiven.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered into her ear. “Love you big.”

  “Love you bigger.” She paused for a moment, holding the embrace. “And that’s why I always want to protect you. But I’m guessing it can feel a little stifling.”