Secret Indiscretions (Carson Cove Scandals 2)

“I am.” I nodded and smiled. “I just turned in my two weeks’ notice to Mr. Moretti.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to make it without you.” She shook her head back and forth. “You keep this place running smoothly when you’re on duty.”

“You’ll be fine.” I rolled my eyes and laughed.

“Will we?” Tiffani, one of the other waitresses, walked up behind me. “Mr. Moretti will probably hire another high school kid that drops half their orders—no offense, Lauren.”

“Hey!” Lauren narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t dropped a tray since my first night here!”

“You dropped so many that night; I thought Mr. Moretti was going to fire you before the end of your first shift.” Tiffani walked over and gave Lauren a playful nudge.

“What are we going to do without Melanie?” Lauren looked over at Tiffani. “She trains all the new girls…”

“You two will just have to step it up.” I pointed at them and shook my finger like Mr. Moretti always did when he was chewing someone out—thankfully, it usually wasn’t me.

“We are totally going to throw you a party on your last night.” Tiffani looked at Lauren, who nodded in agreement. “Maybe Mr. Moretti will let us do it after the restaurant closes…”

“I don’t think Mr. Moretti is going to let us do that.” I shook my head back and forth.

“Mr. Moretti isn’t going to let you do what?” The booming Italian accent nearly made me jump out of my shoes when he turned the corner.

“We want to throw Melanie a going away party…” Tiffani gave Mr. Moretti a sheepish grin.

“Is that so?” He put his hands on his hips and stared at us.

“She’s been here longer than anyone except for Ms. Madison—and I don’t think she’s ever going to leave.” Lauren glanced over her shoulder at the older lady who could still run circles around all of us—which is exactly what she was doing while we were on break.

“I guess that would be okay.” Mr. Moretti nodded. “But I expect the restaurant to be spotless before you go!”

“Thank you!” Tiffani bounced on her toes. “You’re the best!”

“There better not be any liquor missing either,” he growled and shook his finger at us. “I will be checking the next day.”

“We’ll make sure of it, Mr. Moretti.” Lauren winked at me when he turned around.

“Isn’t your break over?” He looked over his shoulder and almost caught her mid-wink.

“Yes sir.” She nodded and scrambled to put on her apron.

I didn’t expect Mr. Moretti to be upset that I was quitting—but I definitely didn’t think I would get

a party on my way out the door. Moretti’s wasn’t the kind of place you worked at forever—except for Ms. Madison, who never moved on. There were a couple of cooks that had been there longer than me, but I had seen a lot of people come and go since I started working at the restaurant during my first year of college. Lauren and Tiffani were students at Carson Cove University like me, and they would be on their way out the door in a couple of years—hopefully moving on to a good job like the one I had landed at Alcott Inc.

I hope I got it because I’m qualified for the position—and not because Jon needed a date.

There was a lingering doubt in the back of my mind about Jon’s intentions. I wanted to believe that what he told me was true, but when he asked me to be his date for Taylor’s wedding—it made me wonder if that was why he agreed to hire me. I couldn’t turn down the amazing opportunity, regardless of why it was offered in the first place. I needed the job—it would allow me to provide for Charley and give her the things I never had. We could get a better apartment immediately and start saving for a house. She was the most important thing in my life, and if I had to go on a date with my new boss to stay on his good side, then I would.

Not that a date with Jon Alcott is necessarily a bad thing—I kind of wish it was a real one…

Jon was—incredibly attractive. If he had asked me on a date instead of offered me a job at Alcott Inc., I would have said yes. He wasn’t like any of the other guys I had dated. He was distinguished, mature, and when he spoke—I just wanted to hang on every word he said. He was hot-as-sin, even when he scowled—and underneath that was a troubled man who was still getting over the worst heartbreak of his life. I had been where he was, even if I wasn’t married to the guy that shattered mine to pieces. Unfortunately, despite the attraction—all we could ever have was one fake date so that he didn’t have to deal with his ex-wife. He was my new boss, and I definitely couldn’t risk losing the job he offered me.

I’ll just have to pretend that his piercing stare doesn’t make my knees get weak—maybe it’ll pass after I get to know him a little better.

* * *

Later that night

I finished my shift at Moretti’s, balanced my receipts for the evening, and turned in my cash to the night manager. I made a decent amount for a Monday night, but I would have to wait on my check to actually take the money home. Mr. Moretti didn’t like to settle up at the end of each night since so many people paid with credit cards, so he just had the money added to our weekly check. Some of the new waitresses complained about it, but once they saw how well the customers tipped, they were usually fine with the arrangement. I certainly didn’t mind waiting because it helped me avoid any temptation to spend the money. It was a lot harder to do when the money was in the bank—I learned from waiting tables in high school that it was easy to spend what I made when I was taking home money every day.