"No hard feelings, pal," Kurt Haugen said from behind his desk, a stuffed swordfish mounted on the wall over his head. Circling around to the front, he extended his hand for a shake. "You've always got a job here if you change your mind. I appreciate a hard worker."
Chris tried not to let his exhale of relief be too obvious. He shook hands, firm, the way his dad had taught him. "Thank you, sir."
"But I'll need you to leave now." Mr. Haugen leaned back against the big wooden desk, crossing one tasseled loafer over the other. "Once someone quits, I prefer they go right away. Not that I don't trust you. It's policy."
"Sure. No problem." Totally. He couldn't wait to get out, and this was so easy he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. "And thanks for being cool about it. Things are really tense at home, with my mom expecting a baby and stuff."
"I hear you. I live in a house of women." He tipped a framed family photo Chris's way, the gold rim outlining a smiling trio of Dad, Mom and little girl. "It's important to take care of them, keep them happy. You go easy on your mom, and I promise you it'll all be worth it when you see that new brother or sister."
"Yeah, uh, right" He shuffled his feet, ready to close the book on his crappy first-job experience. The lifeguard gig would have to be better.
Anything would be better.
Mr. Haugen replaced the photo and pushed away from the desk. "Well, no more of my proud-dad stuff. Take care and good luck."
Nodding, Chris backed away. He couldn't haul out fast enough. And best of all, he had some time to kill before his parents would expect him home.
He made tracks into the kitchen, the stink of fried fish sticking to him all the way through the door. Outside, he blinked against the sunlight—still bright even near sunset, inhaled a deep breath of salty air to clear his head.
Maybe he could grab a Big Mac and stop by Shelby's house, hang for a while. She was still pretty wigged out by the pregnancy scare and her upcoming move and the way Murdoch was pressuring her to change college choices this late in the game.
Chris kicked gravel. Didn't the guy realize how lucky he was to have somebody like Shelby? Pushing would just screw it all up. Which might not be so bad if it weren't for the fact Shelby would get hurt. And even if by some fluke she dumped her tall cool boyfriend for a scrawny geek, she was still moving in a few weeks.
It so sucked being a teenager stuck living with whatever the parents decided. Moving houses. Splitting marriages.
Definitely sucked.
He tucked around lines of parked cars, putting more space between himself and the restaurant. Okay, so something good had happened today. And the lifeguard job wouldn't be so bad.
But his dad was high if he thought the bathing suit chicks would be hanging out around Chris Price's tower. God, especially not with his bony arms and legs out there and his nose all white from zinc oxide. They'd probably think the base signed on a circus act. At least he didn't have to worry about burning since he tanned like his mom—the one good thing he'd inherited from her.
He rounded the corner to his parking spot—yeah, Dad, away from the ocean and the salt so Mom's car wouldn't rust.
Someone lounged against his back bumper. A girl someone. Shelby? Hope cleared his head faster than the beach air. He stepped up his pace to a jog and saw…
Miranda. Crap. His feet slowed.
Make it official. He now hated Lycra as much as lies.
So much for an easy home free. He'd just talk fast and leave even faster.
Chris threw back his shoulders and walked straight for the car. No hesitation. Ignoring the bodacious bitch, he thumbed the unlock button.
"Hey there, Chris." She arched away from the car and slithered into his path. "I hear you're leaving us."
"Uh-huh. Exams. New job. Less hours. That's life." He reached for the door handle.
Her hand fell on his. Held. Squeezed.
Ah crap, crap, crap. He couldn't push her away, because an honorable guy never got physical with a girl. More of his dad's teaching.
But what was he supposed to do when she got really physical with him?
Miranda slid her body between his and the door. Her cologne wrapped around him and just about strangled off air. "You're sounding mighty cocky there, Chris. You wouldn't be getting any ideas?"
"Only about getting out of here." He pulled his hand off the door handle, which happened to be a little too close to Miranda's butt. Her gloating smile shouted that she knew it, too.
He crossed his arms over his chest.