room to confront Johnny. He has no right to talk to me like that.
I slam the door open with my palm, ready to let him have it, when I get an eyeful of his shirtless form sliding a shirt over his head. He’s facing me, his face covered by his shirt’s fabric, so he doesn’t see the way I ogle the deep carvings that define his abs and the scar that starts near one side of the V that dips into his shorts and reaches around his back. I should turn away or run—anything else but stand here and stare.
His shirt slides over his eyes, and he’s staring back at me.
My cheeks warm and my breathing is unsteady. “I-I’m sorry.”
He says nothing about my gawking. Instead, he grabs a black shirt on the counter beside him and chucks it at me. When I open the balled-up material, I notice it’s a work tank top with Island Grille’s logo on it.
“Thank you.” The words are barely a whisper as they leave my mouth.
Johnny slides past me and walks out the door, allowing me to change in private.
For the millionth time, I debate whether a job here is worth it. I don’t want to quit before I’ve even been hired, and I don’t want to let a grumpy asshole like Johnny get the better of me, but I don’t know how I can work with the guy long-term.
After changing into the work tank, I find an empty locker to toss my shirt into. When I walk out of the staff room, Johnny is leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest.
He tosses me a stained white cloth that smells of cleaning solution. “You can wipe down the tables and set the chairs out.”
I narrow my eyes and fold my arms to mirror him. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do?”
He raises his brows, as if accepting my challenge. “Clean the bathrooms. Why? Wanna swap?”
I let my arms fall, feeling deflated. It’s if he won some sort of battle, and I’m too annoyed to answer.
He rolls his eyes and pushes off the wall. “Didn’t think so.”
After heading back out to the restaurant, I spend the next thirty minutes wiping down each table and placing the chairs in their respective positions. It’s enough time for me to get my head straight again and remember that Johnny is harmless compared to Steve. Sure, Johnny hates me for some mysterious reason, but he isn’t doing anything more than being rude. I can deal with rude.
Once he’s done with the bathrooms, he shows me how to take an order and place it into the system then how to charge a customer’s card to close out a table. Meanwhile, I just listen and take it all in, doing everything in my power to avoid eye contact and speaking to him. If I open my mouth to say anything, I know it won’t be nice.
“Monday mornings are never busy, so it’s just you and me for the first hour. I’ll shadow you and tell you everything you need to fix.”
My eyes widen, and I see there’s a twinkle in his eyes to tell me he’s actually joking. Not that he’s being playful. He’s just enjoying being an ass. “Oh gee, what a great guy you are.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t go that far. Just looking forward to watching you fail.”
Fire flares in my chest, and I’m not willing to back down this time. “Excuse me? What is your problem? You’ve been nasty to me since you laid eyes on me. I’m sorry I hit you when I was playing pool the other day. It was an accident, but you were terrible to me before that. So what gives?”
Johnny starts to open his mouth, but the door swings open.
Roy walks in. “Hey, Kat,” he greets with a big smile. “Don’t mess up.” He salutes, then he walks straight to the back, most likely to his office.
When I look back at Johnny, I swear there’s a tiny smirk lifting his cheeks. When I let out a little growl and open my mouth to prompt him to answer my question, Johnny places his hands on my shoulders and swivels me toward the door. “Your first customer. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
For the next hour, I take all the distractions I can get. Customers enter, and I rush to seat them. I get their drinks then take their orders. At some point, Johnny gets busy at the bar, and I