Suite Dreams

Sunday night wasn’t quite the madhouse of the night before. One of the AWOL busboys—Kent—returned. The other had supposedly tumbled down “the stairs” and broken his leg.

  “More likely the ski slope,” Mel mumbled.

  I said nothing, because I figured she was right. And honestly I wasn’t in any mood to complain when Jude was now part of the crew, with free eats privileges. Plus it was simply more fun having him around, winking at me and smiling for no apparent reason.

  “Does that guy think we’re having a contest here?” Kent asked me at the doorway into the kitchen, as Jude reached a recently vacated table and proceeded to clear it. “He’s like super busguy or something.”

  “I think it’s called initiative. You know, seeing what needs to be done and doing it.”

  Kent scowled at me. “So where’d he come from?”

  “Australia.”

  “I got that. Is he going to school here? I mean, it’s going to wear me out keeping up with him.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be leaving in two or three weeks,” I said, not at all surprised by the disappointment that thought brought me. I was enjoying Jude’s company. He even cleared the tables with flair. I could stand there and watch him all night, but I had a table that needed my attention.

  I went over to the candlelit table where some regulars were waiting. Dr. Campbell was one of the deans at the university. He was with his wife and two daughters. Hailey, the older one, went to the university and was in my calculus class. She went through boyfriends the way I went through a bag of chips.

  I’d just taken her sister’s order, when Hailey set down her menu to tell me what she wanted. But she froze, then whispered, “Omigod. This may have just become my favorite restaurant.”

  I glanced in the direction she was looking, not surprised to discover that Jude had moved to a closer table and thus, snagged her attention.

  It occurred to me that if Jude came over and talked or grinned at Hailey that she’d have him pull up a chair to join them. As a matter of fact, she’d probably offer him her couch—if not her bed.

  Why was I irritated with Hailey for noticing what a gorgeous guy Jude was? Any girl would notice. I’d never felt this possessive when girls looked at Rick. But the truth was that what I was beginning to feel for Jude was very different from what I’d felt for Rick. On so many levels. It was scary but also thrilling.

  Dr. Campbell cleared his throat, snapping me back to my duties.

  “Your order, miss,” I said formally.

  “I’ll have him,” she said, pointing at Jude.

  “Hailey, don’t be silly and it’s rude to point,” her father said, clearly frustrated that it was taking so long to get their order taken.

  Hailey just rolled her eyes and looked up at me. “He’s new, isn’t he? I don’t remember ever seeing him working here before.”

  “We’re not allowed to discuss the staff,” I told her, hoping it sounded like it might be an actual rule. I didn’t want her anywhere near Jude. I was feeling protective of him. Or was it jealousy?

  “All right, fine.” She pouted for a second, then gave me her order. She had “I plan to be difficult” written all over her face.

  After taking everyone’s order, I headed back to the kitchen via Jude, who was pushing an aluminum cart of dirty dishes.

  “I think you’re probably the only guy around here who looks like he actually enjoys clearing tables,” I said in a low, dignified voice. The Chalet was all about being dignified.

  He grinned at me and leaned low. I smelled the wonderful scent of him. “Keeps me busy. Makes the time fly until you’re off work and we can do something.”

  I wondered what he had in mind. Were we going to finish what we might have been starting last night?

  “Are you blushing?” he asked.

  “What? No.”

  “Does it bother you—what I said?”

  “Of course not, but I need to get this order turned in.”

  I hurried into the kitchen, nearly running into Mel as she was coming out.

  “Kent quit. Can you believe it? I’ve heard of spring fever. But winter fever? What is it with these guys and their sudden lack of enthusiasm for work?”

  She carried her tray into the dining room before I could answer. Not that I had an answer. Or really cared.

  My thoughts were taken up with Jude and wondering what we might do after work.

  “This is so not what I ordered,” Hailey said after I brought out their food.

  “Filet mignon, medium rare,” I said, confirming her request by looking at the order slip.

  “Right. And this is so not rare.”

  Looking at Hailey’s steak in the dim romantic candlelight of the restaurant, I could have sworn it was medium rare.

  “What is it exactly?” I asked. I truly wasn’t being a smart-ass. I just wasn’t certain if she thought it was cooked too much or too little.

  She gave me a look that said I was too clueless to breathe the same air that she did. “Overdone.”

  I plastered on my I-will-be-a-charming-waitress-no-matter-how-uncharming-the-guests-may-be smile. “I’ll return it to the kitchen and have the chef prepare another one for you.”

  “Make it quick, because I’m starving.”

  I wasn’t sure how she could be. They’d already eaten their salads and two baskets of rolls. Still I took the plate back into the kitchen. I placed it on the counter. “Hailey doesn’t like her steak,” I announced.

  “Hailey never likes her steak,” Chef muttered. “Come back in three.”

  I grabbed a pitcher of water, so I could do a quick run-through, filling water glasses. I was heading for the door when it swung open and Jude backed in, pulling a cart with him. He nodded toward the pitcher I was holding. “Leave that. I’ll see to it.”

  “No, I can—”

  “Alyssa! Order up!”

  I nodded at Jude, setting the pitcher aside. “Okay, thanks. Just be sure you step back from the table so no cold water splashes on them.”

  “I worked at a restaurant back home for a while. I think I’ve got it.”

  “Oh, that explains your bussing skills.”

  He gave me his usual grin. “My bussing skills?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid you intimidated Kent.”

  “Didn’t mean to. Just doing my job.” He winked at me, before pushing the cart into the dishwashing area.

  I returned to the counter to pick up the food waiting on me. It wasn’t Hailey’s steak; it was another order. The people at that table were much easier to please, nodding their heads with approval at the condition of their steaks and seafood. When I returned to the kitchen, Hailey’s steak was ready.

  “Any bets on whether or not she accepts this one?” Mel asked, preparing a basket of rolls for one of her tables.

  “No. She’s trying to make a point, because I wouldn’t give her details about Jude.”

  “So give her the details. Tell her he’s spoken for.”

  “But he’s not.”

  She arched a brow. “Do not let her think he’s available. She’ll dig her claws into him and not let go.”

  “We all have such a high opinion of her.”

  “I had a class with her, and she is not pleasant.”

  As I approached Hailey’s table, I felt my mouth go dry. Jude was standing at the table, water pitcher in hand, talking with Hailey. I wondered if she was the reason that he’d offered to do a water run, if he’d wanted an excuse to talk with her. Had I been a fool to think something was developing between Jude and me? Obviously, because here he was flirting with another girl.

  He liked meeting people. He’d met me and now he was meeting someone else. I wasn’t special. I was just good enough until something better came along.

  If Paul spotted him, Jude might lose his complimentary evening meals. He really wasn’t supposed to be bothering the guests. Although judging by the look of adoration—and ownership—on Hailey’s face, she wasn’t considering his attention a both
er.

  I set the plate down with a clatter—not something I normally did—and caught everyone’s attention. I should have apologized but I was suddenly in a prickly mood. “Here you are. If you’ll please cut into your steak and see if it’s cooked to your satisfaction.”

  She scowled up at me, before doing as I asked. Then she tilted up her nose and gave me a fake smile. “Sorry. Still too cooked.”

  “Caw, really?” Jude asked. “That’s just the way I like it.”

  Hailey swiveled her head around to look at him, a tiny pleat appearing between her brows. I tried to get Jude’s attention to wave him off. A confrontation with Hailey wasn’t pretty. Sometimes I just wanted to smack her parents and ask why they let her get away with such rude behavior.

  But Jude either didn’t see my motions or he was ignoring me. His attention was all on Hailey. I had a feeling he might be contemplating changing tour guides.

  “See, a nice section of red there in the middle,” Jude said. “Then a bit of pink, followed by brown to hold in the flavors. Perfection. If you’ve never tasted it prepared like that, I highly recommend you give it a go.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Really, this is the way you like it?”

  “Absolutely. And you know who else eats his steak prepared like that? Hugh Jackman.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked suspiciously, and I thought Jude had blown it.

  “I worked in a restaurant in Australia. He came in all the time. And that’s just the way he ordered his steak prepared. Exactly like yours.”

  Her eyes had grown wide. Her sister’s mouth was hanging open.

  “Well,” Hailey said. “If Hugh Jackman prefers it this way…” She let her voice trail off as she smiled at him, then looked up at me. “It’s fine. My compliments to the chef.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll let him know. Is there anything else I can get anyone?” I asked the table in general.

  My question was met with head shakes, so I walked away. When I glanced back, Jude had wandered over to another table and was filling glasses there. If not for him, I’d have probably been taking steaks back to the chef all night.

  “I owe you big-time,” I told Jude.

  The restaurant doors were locked. All the customers had left. I was helping Jude clear off the last few tables that had dishes on them.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For handling Hailey and the rare-steak situation.” It sounded like the title to a children’s book.

  “She gave me her number so I could ring her up,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I felt that funny twinge. “So are you gonna call her?”

  “She’s not my type. I don’t like troublemakers.”

  I felt an odd sense of relief.

  “She probably has a much more comfortable couch than I do,” I told him. “I bet she’d make it available to you.”

  “But she’s not comfortable to be around.”

  His words returned my good humor. “So you really waited on Hugh Jackman?”

  He appeared stunned. Then he grimaced and made a little moan. “Did I say Hugh Jackman earlier? Gawd, I’m always doing that. No, no. Hugh Jackson. Big bloke. Used cars salesman…”

  I started to laugh.

  “Always wearing these atrocious plaid jackets.”

  I was laughing so hard I felt tears in my eyes.

  “What? You don’t believe me?” he asked.

  “I can’t believe you lied.”

  “I didn’t lie. It was an honest mistake.”

  “Whatever. I appreciated it.” I got very serious. “I don’t know if Paul would have appreciated it.”

  “What’s he gonna do? Fire me? When all I’m doing is helping out? You worry too much.”

  “Okay, stop hogging the hottie,” Mel said as she came up to the table. She’d already removed her tie and unbuttoned the top three buttons on her shirt.

  “Has the band got another gig?” Jude asked her. “Nope. Maybe next week. I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, I’m throwing a little party at my place tomorrow night. I expect you guys to be there.”

  Jude looked at me, arched a brow.

  “We’re in,” I said.

  “Great.” Mel took my arm. “Come on. I’ll draw you a map to my place.”

  She seemed incredibly intent on hauling me to the kitchen.

  “I know where you live,” I said, nearly tripping over my feet.

  “You don’t think that excuse was the real reason I wanted to get you away from him, do you?”

  “You wanted to get me away from him?”

  “Just for a sec.”

  We stopped on the dining room side of the swinging door that led into the kitchen.

  “There’s really a definite connection between you two, between you and Jude,” Mel said. “I just thought I should point it out again because I have the impression that sometimes you’re blind where guys are concerned.”

  “I don’t know, Mel. He’s only going to be here for two or three weeks.”

  “Then make the best of them, girlfriend.”

  It was after midnight. I was sitting on my bed, my legs curled beneath me, while I sipped hot chocolate. Jude was at my computer, uploading his pictures to some picture-sharing account that he had.

  We’d both dressed down, putting away our Chalet uniforms and slipping into comfy sweats. His hair was all tousled from his shower. He looked rumpled and adorable.

  I glanced over at Sheli’s bed, considered…no. “I have class tomorrow morning,” I told him.

  He looked up from the computer. “What time?”

  “Eight. I’ll be back around two.”

  “First day of class? They never keep you the whole time.”

  “Yeah, but this is an entire semester crammed into two weeks. I think they probably will.”

  “Why would you do that?” He sounded truly baffled.

  “I’m looking at years of schooling. Whatever I can get done sooner, the better.”

  He shook his head. “You’ll burn yourself out.”

  “I like studying.”

  He scrutinized me. “Can I ask you something? But I don’t want you to think I’m being nosy.”

  I felt a little fissure of dread go through me. “Sure.”

  The word came out hesitantly.

  “While I’ve been sitting here, uploading my pictures, I noticed this little grid.” He pointed at my dry erase board where I blocked out my time. “Do you account for every hour of every day?”

  I set the mug aside, unfolded my body, and walked over to the desk. “Pretty much. It’s the only way I can get everything done.” It was a habit I’d borrowed from my mom. Growing up, she’d enrolled me in every extracurricular activity that she could make time for—to give me an opportunity to experience everything, decide my own likes and dislikes.

  “What about spontaneity?”

  His face was illuminated by the glow of the computer. For some reason, we’d decided to leave the lights off except for the low-wattage lamp by my bed. It created an intimacy.

  “I make time for that. See?” I touched a blank square. “I allow an hour—”

  “An hour?” He started laughing.

  “It works for me, okay?” It irritated me that he didn’t understand my system. Or worse, that he was ridiculing it.

  He stopped laughing. “Okay.”

  “I can be spontaneous.”

  He grinned. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I tensed, relaxed, went for the unexpected. “How would you like to sleep on Sheli’s bed tonight?”

  His gaze shifted past me to the bed. “You mean in here?”

  “Well, yeah, that’s where the bed is.”

  His gaze came back to me. “What about Stephanie?”

  “She has her own bed.”

  He laughed. “No, I mean, won’t she think—”

  “I don’t care what she thinks. She suggested it, actually.” As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. Why hadn’t I just taken credit for
the idea? I’d thought about it too. I just hadn’t voiced it aloud.

  “It’d certainly be more comfortable,” he said.

  “Okay, then. Great.” I was going to be sleeping in my sweats tonight.

  Jude finished uploading his pictures. Then we went through the ritual of getting ready for bed. Neither of us talked. An awkwardness had suddenly emerged, and I was sort of wishing I could take back the offer.

  Finally, we were each in our respective beds and I switched off the light.

  We seemed even quieter then. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to sleep.

  “Lys?” Jude whispered in the darkness.

  “Yeah?”

  “G’night.”

  The bed squeaked as he rolled over.

  I released the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “Good night.”

  I rolled over too. And smiled.

  Chapter 9

  Jude and I had survived the night, sleeping in the same room. I knew he’d survived because I could hear him breathing when I sneaked out of the room to go to class, trying really hard not to disturb him.

  “So you’re going to actually cook something?” Jude asked dubiously.

  We were walking down the baking aisle at the grocery store that afternoon. He’d insisted on coming with me, even though I’d reminded him there were more exciting things to do in Vermont. He’d given me a look that said he thought I was silly for even suggesting that.

  “I can cook,” I said, semi-insulted. “And since I’m making something to take to the party”—I grabbed a bag of sugar and Karo syrup—“I might as well prepare something for lunch. So what do you want?”

  “What’s your specialty?”

  “Beef stroganoff. Lots of carbs and things that aren’t good for you.”

  “Sounds like something I’d love.” He grabbed a brownie mix and tossed it into the cart where it landed on top of the muffin mix and cake mix he’d already thrown in.

  “I didn’t think you liked sweet things.”

  “Not crazy about fudge.”

  “How do you feel about divinity?”

  “To be honest, I’ve never had it, but if that’s what you’re making, I’m sure I’ll love it.”