He's the One (29 page)

‘I would never order that,’ the bride-to-be snapped at her. Brooke knew she was the bride-to-be because that’s what she had printed on her tight white t-shirt. And the bright pink tiara, now slightly askew, was a bit of a giveaway as well. What a lucky man the groom was … Mind you, God knew what he was up to.

‘Well, you guys did actually.’ Brooke was doing her very best to be polite.

‘Well, you guys did actually,’ the lairy bride-to-be mimicked her. ‘Who do you think you are, Waitress Girl? I didn’t, so take this shit away and get me the risotto I actually ordered.’

No one had
ever
been that rude to Brooke before. For a second she stood rooted to the spot, before gathering up the rejected dishes. Fuck! She yelped in pain as she burned her hand on one of the plates and very nearly dropped it, which would have capped the night off perfectly.

‘What’s going on with that table?’ Marco demanded, catching her offloading the unwanted meals at the pass. ‘We need to get them served and out of here as soon as possible, they are not good for business.’

‘They’re saying they didn’t order the ravioli, but they did. I’ve got to get them the seafood risotto instead. They’re probably too drunk to remember.’

He looked furious. ‘What a waste! I’ll take over from you. Have your break now. I hired you in good faith, as a favour to your mother, but you are letting her and me down with your attitude, Brooke.’

‘It’s not
my
attitude! Those women are being so obnoxious! No one should have to put up with that.’

‘Enough! I have to go and sort out your mess otherwise those women will be writing some terrible review on Trip Advisor. And up till now I have never had a one-star review!’

Brooke slunk out to the back yard. Her hand throbbed painfully from where she had burned it, but she couldn’t face seeing anyone in the kitchen where she knew the first-aid kit was. She sat down on one of the broken chairs from the restaurant, which wobbled precariously, trying her hardest not to cry.

‘Cheer up, I got you a Diet Coke,’ Flynn said, taking a chair next to her and handing her the can. ‘You shouldn’t let it get to you. We all have shifts like this.’

‘Thanks,’ she muttered. It would take more than a fizzy drink to raise her spirits, but she appreciated the gesture.

Flynn noticed the burn as she took the can. ‘Hey, what have you done?’

‘It’s nothing.’

He reached out and gently turned her hand over, revealing the red mark. ‘Ouch, that must hurt! Come on, we’ll run it under cold water.’

Maybe it was because Flynn was being nice to her, or because she was exhausted, but suddenly Brooke’s eyes were welling up with tears. She was going to win Loser of the Year at this rate … no contest.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing. Everything. Being stuck here at this restaurant just about sums up my crappy life. I get
abuse hurled at me by a group of drunk women, I’m miles from where I want to be and who I want to be with. I’m trying to do what my mom wants by working here and going to college, but nothing I do ever goes right. Everything is shit. And I feel so lost. I don’t think I can take it any more.’

She waited for Flynn to tell her to stop being such a baby and to pull herself together. But instead he said quietly, ‘Is it really that bad?’ And putting his arms round her, he hugged her close. ‘You’ll be okay, Brooke. You’re tough, you can get through this.’

For a few seconds she felt comforted by the gesture, and rested her head on his shoulder. But then that feeling turned to something else as she registered how good Flynn’s body felt against hers. Far too good. Solid … strong … sexy. She was so close she could feel his heart beating, could smell his delicious musky aftershave. She had an overwhelming urge to kiss his neck, to slip her hands under his shirt and feel his warm skin. She felt tendrils of desire unfurl within her … No! She absolutely could not go there. What was she thinking! She awkwardly pulled away.

‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, certain that her face was flushing red.

‘All part of the service,’ Flynn replied, seeming completely together. Clearly she had not had the same effect on him.

She stood up, ready to go back inside and get on with her night from hell.

‘Hey, you’ve got a few more minutes yet,’ Flynn told her.

‘No, I’m fine, Marco’s already pissed off with me. I might as well try and get back into his good books.’

Inside, there was quite a scene. Marco and Big Bruno, plus Vince who did the washing up, were
escorting the hens out of the restaurant. The women were not going quietly. ‘You fucking wankers!’ seemed to be a common refrain. Classy bunch of ladies that lot.

‘What happened?’ she asked Mila.

‘The bride-to-be groped Marco’s bum, not once, not twice, but three times. And the third time he lost it. He told them he would rather serve a table of farm animals than them.’

‘And you are banned from ever coming back here!’ Marco shouted as he slammed the door on the last of the drunken women. Then he addressed the other diners, all of whom had been riveted by the drama of what had happened. ‘There will be a free glass of wine for all of you, and a free dessert. I sincerely apologise for that scene.’

At that the tables broke into a round of applause. Catching sight of Brooke, Marco walked over to her. ‘And I am sorry for having a go at you. I should have listened when you told me about them. I didn’t mean what I said. You’re a very good waitress and a real asset to my restaurant. Come, we’ll all have a glass of wine to make up. I need one after dealing with those –’ he shuddered ‘– I can’t call them women, they were beasts and barbarians!’

Instantly Brooke’s mood lightened, and the rest of the night passed without incident. In fact, although she would never admit this to her mom, it was kind of fun. There was a party atmosphere in the restaurant. The diners were all in excellent moods after their freebies. And she felt that she was getting to know the rest of the waiters, chefs and sous-chefs, who by and large were all really nice and seemed to like her. For the first time ever she felt part of a team and didn’t wish that she was the one being waited on.

‘D’you fancy having a beer at my house?’ Flynn
asked her, as she was getting her jacket at the end of the shift.

Brooke thought of their hug. Was it such a good idea to go with him? Then again, it was probably all in her imagination. It would be good to clear the air.

‘Sure.’ She grinned. ‘Do we get a taxi there? You know what us LA natives are like, we never walk if we can help it.’

Flynn rolled his eyes. ‘You’re going to have to walk on your pretty little feet. But it’s not far.’

She expected that he’d ask Mila as well, but he didn’t and Brooke realised that she was glad that it was going to be just the two of them.

It might not have been that far, but Flynn’s route home included what seemed like the steepest hill Brooke had ever climbed in her life.

‘I can’t go on!’ she protested, coming to a halt halfway up. ‘I’ve been on my feet all day. Have mercy!’

Flynn carried on walking and called out, ‘Okay then. More beer for me. Just think of it, though, ice cold and waiting for you.’

‘I’d prefer some harder liquor – Harry let me drink vodka when I went out with him.’ Oops, she hadn’t meant it to sound as if she thought that this was a date! Fortunately Flynn didn’t answer and so she caught up with him and pretended she hadn’t come out with her last comment.

Flynn’s house reminded her of Nina’s. It was in a Victorian terrace, painted sky blue, and inside was a riot of colour, with pictures on every wall alongside photos of Flynn and his two younger sisters. It was small, but very cosy. When Brooke saw the shoe rack with everyone’s shoes lined up, she had that pang she sometimes felt when she used to go round to Kelly’s, about missing out on what it was to be part of a big
family. Not that Kelly had a shoe rack, more like a shoe room … and soon she’d need a shoe wing.

Brooke paused at a picture of Flynn, aged around five, riding a bike and looking incredibly pleased with himself. ‘Ah, you were so cute!’ She shot him a cheeky glance. ‘Where did it all go wrong?’

‘Do you want that beer or not?’

‘After tonight? I definitely want.’

She followed him into the kitchen at the end of the hallway.

‘Where’s the rest of your family?’ she asked, leaning against the work counter.

Even in the kitchen there were pictures and photographs on every available space. The large stainless-steel fridge was covered in magnets, underneath which were reminders of appointments, more drawings and postcards.

‘They’re away camping for the weekend,’ he replied, opening the fridge and getting out two bottles of Beck’s.

Oh, so she was alone with him? Suddenly Brooke had a very vivid flashback to their hug. She experienced a fresh upsurge of butterflies …

‘It’s so rare that I have the house to myself. You don’t know how lucky you are to have all that space in yours. I keep having to chuck my sister Rosie out of my room, she’s always trying to use my computer. I’m going to have to get a lock.’

He handed her the beer and they went into the living room. He shifted a large tabby cat out of the way and sat in a battered leather armchair; she took the sofa. See, it had been her imagination after all; he couldn’t actually be sitting any further away from her if he tried. This was a friendly drink together, nothing more.

‘Actually I envy you, having a big family. It sometimes
feels kind of lonely with just Mom and me. In a funny way, I guess it’s better now we’re here. Back in LA we hardly ever saw each other – she was always working or I would be out. We ate at different times. There was even one week when we had to text each other to arrange a time in our schedules to meet, and that was mainly for her to give me a hard time about my grades.’

Flynn shook his head. ‘That’s the other extreme, I guess – I’ll try and remember that when Rosie is next winding me up. So how are you feeling about living here now? Does it still feel so alien?’

‘Well, there’s the lack of sun and sand, the fact that you don’t have a Nobu here, and Omigod, I haven’t had a manicure in three weeks! And do you know where you can buy 7 For All Mankind jeans in Brighton? I totally have to have a new pair or I’m going to freak.’

‘I know you’re joking. You pretend to be this shallow girl who only cares about how she looks, but I’ve seen through all that.’

‘No way! I work so hard at it!’

‘Yep, exhibit one is you being friends with Mila and being kind to her, exhibit two is the fact that you are working in a restaurant, and exhibit three you’re a really good actor and would have to be drawing on something other than being a shallow airhead to convince an audience of your feelings.’

Flynn thought she was a good actress? Wow, that was quite a compliment coming from him, Mr Integrity.

‘Okay, you got me, I’m real profound,’ she teased. ‘I could give you lessons, if you like. My fees are very reasonable, though I am saving for a new pair of Louboutins.’

‘Don’t take the piss.’

They were both silent for a moment while they sipped
their beers. His next question took her completely by surprise. ‘So did you leave a boyfriend back in LA?’

Did it sound as if he cared about the answer? Did she want him to care? Probably more than she wanted to admit to herself …

‘No. Just before we left, I dumped him.’ Brooke paused. ‘Okay, he dumped me first, but I was about to dump him. He cheated on me with this skanky girl.’ She grimaced. ‘It was so humiliating.’

‘That’s tough. And he must have been an idiot to cheat on you.’

‘I was the idiot for ever getting involved with him in the first place. I don’t even know what I saw in him.’

She really meant that. She couldn’t imagine being with Christian now. Sure he was good-looking, but there had to be more than that to a person. What did they ever talk about? She couldn’t even remember. She thought of having to go to his dreadful concerts and wanted to laugh. She had been crazy.

‘So, have you met anyone over here who you like?’

Oh, God! She had an overwhelming desire to blurt out ‘You’! What the fuck was wrong with her? She quickly turned her confusion into a joke. ‘Plenty, but they all seem to be gay. But that didn’t stop me with Harry, did it?’

‘So is Harry really the type you go for?’

Why all these questions? Did he care what her ‘type’ was?

Before she had a chance to answer, they were interrupted by a knock at the door. A lucky escape, she couldn’t help thinking. But she didn’t have that feeling for long as Flynn opened the door to Eve. Brooke hadn’t expected her to turn up and suddenly felt incredibly deflated. Although Flynn had been asking some difficult questions, she was loving spending time alone with him.

She could hear Eve laying into him, out in the hallway.

‘I’ve been calling you for the past hour, why wasn’t your phone switched on?’

‘I thought you were going out tonight with your friends.’

‘I did, but then I really needed to see you.’ Eve sounded on the verge of tears. That was a bit odd. Surely it was no big deal that Flynn didn’t have his phone on?

Brooke glanced up as Eve walked into the living room. Flynn’s girlfriend looked stunned to find her sitting there, but quickly composed herself.

‘Oh, hi, I didn’t realise you were here.’ Not said in an especially friendly way …

‘I’m just having a quick beer on my way home. It was quite some shift we had. We needed to unwind after serving the great British public. I was nearly assaulted by a group of hens or whatever you call them.’

‘Not exactly in your direction, is it? You’re the other end of town,’ Eve said icily.

If looks could kill, Brooke would be stone dead, that was for sure. She was conscious of her waitress uniform. Her white shirt had pasta sauce spilled on it and she probably smelled of garlic bread. Eve, on the other hand, looked incredible in a pair of black skinny jeans and a black sequin top, with perfect understated make up that made her blue eyes look even more intense. But she seemed very on edge. Brooke hadn’t seen her like this before, usually she was supremely confident.