Just Once (10 page)

I hear him laugh behind me.

“That was fast,” Hailey remarks when I return for my water.

“They’re going to pick up the food themselves from now on,” I tell her, and by default Alec, who is standing right there.

“Really?” he says, seeming interested. “That’s a first.”

I shrug. “I’m not going to argue. Those plates are heavy.”

“Yep,” Hailey agrees. “No reason to go to that barn. No reason at all.”

I smile, and she smiles back. I don’t know what Brandon’s deal is. Hailey is incredibly pretty, with hair to die for. On top of that she was a college volleyball player and is still enviably fit. And, unlike the other kitchen/cabin girls, she’s mature.

“You coming to O’Malley’s tonight?” she asks.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but just then Mark enters with a tray of molten lava cakes for dessert. “Say yes,” he urges. “I’ll give you a free cake.”

“Cakes are for guests,” Alec points out.

Mark winks at me. “Of course.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll come.” I can’t help but wonder if Shane will be there again. And why he’s breaking tradition: going to O’Malley’s, picking up the ranch hands’ food.

“Come where?”

I turn to see Janie standing just inside the door, half-full coffee pot in hand.

“O’Malley’s,” Hailey answers.

Janie sighs dramatically and does everything but stomp her foot. “Seriously? Again? Why? Why are you everywhere?”

“Relax,” I tell her. “I promise not to speak to you.”

“Thank God.”

“Hey,” Alec snaps. “Like it or not, Kate is your boss and this is my kitchen. If anybody gets to be rude, it’s me. Got it?”

Janie looks like she wants to say something else, but merely turns on her heel and returns to the dining room. Becca enters, spots her friend leaving, and quickly follows.

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have kids,” I say to Alec. “Do you? How long will this last?”

“They’re teenage girls.” He shrugs. “They’re monsters. From what I’ve heard, you weren’t much better.”

I gasp, offended. “Me? Never!”

He laughs. “Do you believe in karma, Kate?”

I suppose I do believe in karma. And if I wasn’t certain I was in the right for coming down hard on the girls earlier, I’d believe I was being punished right now, because it looks like karma has arrived in the form of Cassidy Reyes, my teenage nemesis.

“I can’t believe she’s still coming here!” I hiss at Hailey, who sits beside me at O’Malley’s, nursing her third “and final” beer.

“I can’t believe you’re still saying that!” she replies.

“And her dance moves haven’t changed at all!”

Mark snorts with laughter and leans past us to see. “Looks all right to me,” he says, earning himself a kick in the shin.

“Shut up!”

I glower into my drink as Cassidy continues to dance with four men simultaneously. All are completely entranced, though what they see in bleached-blond hair that has recently seen a crimping iron, I’m not sure. Though when she turns, spreads her knees, and shimmies low to the ground, her enormous breasts nearly fall out of her corset—yes, a corset—and I decide it’s safe to assume it’s not the hair that caught their attention.

Cassidy’s family owns a nearby ranch, and each summer I worked here was spent in some sort of face-off with what we called the Summer Skank. The staff and I would come here most nights after work, and Cassidy would inevitably be waiting with her small posse of friends, ready to sort through the summer workers to pick her next victim. The boys were more than willing to comply. She was a siren none could stay away from.

My first two summers were spent wrapped up with Ryan Parker, one of the wranglers. We were serious and committed when we were together, though when the summer ended we were promptly and seriously single again. My third summer, however, I’d expected us to pick up where we’d left off, only to learn that Cassidy Reyes had gotten her claws into him the day after I’d left the year before, and they were still together. I spent each night after that at O’Malley’s, furiously drinking and dancing my ass off, pretending my pride wasn’t stung by their coupling. But it was. How could any guy who wanted me want that awful skank? Even now I can’t stop myself from judging the four slobbering men grinding against her.

I share my sob story with Hailey and Mark, who nod sympathetically. And neither says, “It was ten years ago, Kate. Move on!” for which I’m grateful. It’s much easier to be self-righteous when your friends are supportive.

“Want to dance?” Mark asks.

I shouldn’t, I know—not with my scandalous history—but I nod and stand up anyway. I’m not drinking tonight, and my days of dancing like Cassidy Reyes are way behind me. Even if I had planned to try to show her up—which I hadn’t—those plans would’ve been quickly derailed when the band launches into a slow song.

“Lucky me.” Mark smiles, gathering me into his arms.

He pulls me a little too close, and I move away gently, putting some breathing room between us. If he notices he doesn’t say so, just sways easily to the music. It’s nice to be this close to someone, but while I know he’s probably got feelings more romantic than mine, my body just doesn’t react to his the way it does to Shane. The way it knows when he’s in the room. The way his breath on my neck makes goose bumps spring up on every inch of my skin.

I feel something cold on the back of my neck and reach up under my hair, but there’s nothing there. I look around to find the source, but spot nothing. And then Mark spins me and I see it: Cassidy Reyes’s icy gaze. She’s spotted me. She’s draped over one of the four men from before, but her attention is focused squarely on me. I smile falsely and give her a finger wave. She hesitates before doing the same.

Her partner twirls her, and I watch her miniscule skirt spin up so high her pink panties are briefly revealed, a fact noted by every man in the room. As soon as she’s back in his arms, her gaze returns to mine and I turn away, pretending to be interested in Mark’s story about culinary school.

When the song ends he asks me to stay for the next one, but I excuse myself to go to the restroom and hurry away.
How is it that I still harbor so much resentment for that girl?
I ask my reflection a few moments later. Her relationship with Ryan hurt my pride more than my heart—have I really not gotten over it? Or is she just one of those awful people I’m bound to hate eternally?

“Hey, Kate.”

I turn to see that she’s sidled into the small, saloon-themed bathroom.

“Hi, Cassidy.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“Ten years.”

“I heard you were some hotshot writer. What brings you back?”

I shrug. “Just helping Hank and Mary. What are you still doing here?”

It’s Cassidy’s turn to shrug. “I never left.”

Of course she wouldn’t leave. Big fish, small pond. I squint at the sudden flash of light on her left hand. A ring.

“You’re married?” I splutter. Which of those four men was her husband?

Cassidy hesitates, her eyes darting away. “Widowed,” she says, and something in her voice rings true.

“I’m sorry.”

She answers the unspoken question: “It wasn’t Ryan. I don’t know what happened to him.”

“Oh. Good.” I wince inwardly. What a terrible thing to say. I’m awful in situations like these. I was the good-time girl, not the one you turned to in times of trouble. Unless you needed to be bailed out of jail.

“So how long are you here for?”

“Just the summer.”

“Is that guy your boyfriend?”

“Why, you interested?”

She smirks. “Maybe.”

The door bangs open and a similarly outfitted blonde bursts in. “Cass, what are you doing? Your song’s on!” The familiar strains of an old country song blast in, and I smile thinly. Silly, stupid, and dated: the song describes Cassidy to a tee.

“Better get out there,” I say.

She adjusts her cleavage. “Your boyfriend’s waiting,” she replies.

I watch the door swing shut and scowl, willing myself to calm down. When I get back to the table, however, Janie and Becca are there too, and Janie’s in my seat.

“Hey,” Mark says, spotting me. I watch Janie take her hand off his leg and look at Hailey, who shrugs.

“I thought you left,” Janie says with a pout. “Now this table’s no fun.”

“Want to sit down?” Mark asks, pushing his seat back as though he didn’t hear what Janie just said.

“No, thanks,” I say. “I’m just getting my drink.”

We all watch in disbelief as Janie reaches across and knocks over my glass, spilling ginger ale over the wooden table. Hailey jumps back before she can get splashed, and Mark quickly throws napkins on the puddle.

“What the fuck, Janie?” he demands.

She ignores him. “Your drink’s done,” she says. “You can go now.”

I glare at her. I’m not seventeen anymore. These games don’t work with me. I open my mouth to reply, but Hailey jumps in.

“Maybe we should go,” she says. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Becca echoes lamely. “Get lost.”

People have started to stare. Even though Janie’s the idiot in this situation, I can’t help but feel that because I’m the adult, I’m the one who looks foolish. Like I can’t handle an argument with a drunk teenager.

My cheeks flush with anger. “I don’t need to go,” I say tightly. “Get me another drink.”

Janie looks at me, wide-eyed. “I can’t get you another drink,” she says, the words slightly slurred. “I’m only eighteen. How old are you again? Forty?”

My teeth clench, and I’m aware of Hailey’s hand on my arm, just as I’m aware of Janie returning her hand to Mark’s thigh, and Mark, who is my age, not removing it. What is it with this guy? I dance with him once and every skank in the bar wants him? “Your shift may be over,” I inform Janie, praying my voice doesn’t waver, “but I am still your boss. That will never change. Your attitude needs to.”

“My attitude?” Janie scoffs. “Please! Your show up here with your uptight checklists and think you know everything! You don’t know anything. You’re just some old wannabe writer hiding out for the summer. That’s what everyone says, and it’s true.”

I can’t hide my surprise. Janie’s no natural-born country girl either. She’s a spoiled little bitch who’s not used to being told what to do, and I tell her as much. Now it’s her turn to look shocked.

“You whore!” she swears, swinging a hand at my face and missing by a mile. There’s an audible gasp in the room, and I know instantly this thing has gone far enough. I’m the adult, I have to end it. It’s obvious there’s no point in talking to Janie anymore. I’m so furious my hands are trembling as I snatch my purse off the back of the seat and blow off Hailey’s concern.

“I’m leaving,” I say tightly. “I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

“Fuck you!” Janie bellows. Someone laughs.

I ignore the stares as I weave my way out of the crowded space. Hailey and Mark call after me, but I don’t stop. I’m infinitely glad I had the presence of mind to be the driver tonight, and I find the ranch van and hop in, twisting the key in the ignition before the door’s even closed. I hear someone call my name, but I hit the gas and peel out of the gravel parking lot without looking back.

It’s just a short drive back to the ranch, but even with the windows down and the cool night air blowing on my face, I’m still flushed and angry when I arrive. I park in one of the unmarked spots next to the barn and shut off the van. It’s after midnight, and the sky is black and quiet. If I listen carefully I swear I can hear my pounding heart. I press the backs of my hands to my heated cheeks and try to calm down.

I’ve never been somebody’s boss before, and I don’t know how to deal with things like this. I’m an only child, I don’t fight with people. Even in high school I didn’t deal with catty girls. The only girl I’ve ever really battled was Cassidy Reyes, and even though I hated her passionately—still do, apparently—I always considered those battles temporary, like my stays at the ranch.
That’s all this thing with Janie is
, I remind myself.
Temporary
. We’ll both cool off tonight, and in the morning we’ll sit down and I’ll tell her…I’ll tell her…what a spoiled little bitch she is. No, I already said that. I’ll think of something else.