Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,45
no longer feel like I’m putting on a show for him. After other staff members and customers arrive, I feel like I’m thriving in the chaos of tending to multiple orders at once.
When I pick up an order from the kitchen, I find Johnny and Roy near the break room, standing close together and speaking about something. I find it interesting to watch Johnny interact with someone without the grumpy face he always seems to wear around me.
Roy sees me standing in the kitchen and waves. “Hey, Kat. You're doing good out there.”
I smile at the old man, happy to have pleased someone.
“Order up!” Mikey calls, snapping my attention toward him. He winks, and I grab the sizzling breakfast skillets off the warmers.
“Whoa!” Johnny calls out before running over to me and blocking my way to the dining area. He looks down at what I’m holding, his expression twisting in confusion. “Those skillets aren’t too hot for your hands? Most people use the oven pads to grab them.”
I shrug. “My hands are tough, I guess.”
He shakes his head as if he doubts me. Meanwhile, my heart is fluttering wildly, partially because of our proximity and partially because I know that I might smack him if he says another rude thing to me.
“You’re doing good,” he says with a frown. “Beginners luck, I guess.”
I look up, daring myself, and catch a partial smile from Johnny. My flutters catch in my throat. If he weren’t such a jerk, he would be extremely attractive.
A jolt of excitement swells my chest. “Does that mean I’m hired?”
Johnny looks over his shoulder toward where he was standing with Roy, but Roy is gone. “I don’t know. We’ll call you if you are. You can go.”
I stare back at him, mystified. I don’t know why, but something feels so off with what he’s telling me. “But you just told me I did good.”
He grabs the skillets from my hands and stares me dead in the eyes. “I also just told you that you can go.”
With that, he backs out through the swinging doors and walks straight toward my table.
Today marks the start of the eighteenth year of my life, a milestone that Rose believes to be cause for a celebration. I, on the other hand, have been dreading everything about it and am currently contemplating an escape. It’s either that, or I’ll be forced to walk down those spiral steps and make nice with dozens of strangers.
My stomach knots as I stare out the open doors of my balcony while the sun makes its ascent against a bright-blue backdrop. It’s only ten in the morning, and the party is already in full swing downstairs. I can hear the guests’ happy chatter, smell the hot catering dishes, and feel every ounce of excitement reverberating through every inch of the house.
The door to my room opens a crack, and Charlotte pokes her head through, a sympathetic look on her face. “It’s time, Kat. Are you ready?”
I let out a nervous laugh and shake my head. “Definitely not.”
Charlotte frowns. “What’s wrong? Besides your tiff with Rose.”
I chew my bottom lip while my anxiety eats away at me. I’m still upset at Rose for going behind my back to get Alec to take me out, but that’s not what’s bothering me today. “I think Rose’s wild stories and crazy imaginings are getting the better of me.”
She steps into my room and shuts the door. “Why do you say that?”
I swallow. “I had another dream last night.”
Charlotte looks to be considering her words. Then she waves me over to the vanity desk to sit. “Come. Tell me all about it while I do your hair and makeup.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want makeup.”
She sighs. “Must you always be so stubborn? Come. Sit.”
The sternness in her tone causes my heart to jump, and I do as she says. While she lightly applies foundation to my face, I tell her all about my first dream and why this one haunts me more. “My dream last night was the same—except the girl in the mirror wasn’t me this time. It was Rose.”
I shudder at the memory of waking up in a cold sweat. I didn’t plan to tell Charlotte, but I also didn’t expect the dream to weigh so heavily on my heart, like I’m supposed to be decoding something important.
“Perhaps your dream was a combination of things. You’ve been pretty upset at your grandmother. I would aim to guess that your anger toward