Harper's Wish

He turned back to his prep work. “We all share the chores around here. You know that.”

“I know, but I think you’re giving her just a little bit more than her fair share.”

He didn’t respond.

“Look, I get it, Connor. I do. I guess it just bothers me because she’s not the harpy I thought she’d be. And you...” She touched him lightly on the shoulder and then dropped her arm to her side. “You’re not the sort of man who takes revenge. What would your dad say?”

Of all the things Erin might have said to get him to ease up on his newest employee, she had to have known that this was the one he’d take to heart.

* * *

HARPER POURED THE last of the dirty water down the drain and righted the mop bucket. She released a sigh of relief that the day’s chores were finished and moved toward the sink to wash her hands. As she lathered soap in her palms, she thought back on her shift. She’d had a handful of customers in the early evening, but the later hours had shown a noticeable decline in clientele. While on her break, Harper had walked from the docks by the Anchor on up to the main thoroughfare and noted that the other downtown restaurants were packed.

She had watched as several well-dressed couples waited outside one of the busier restaurants. Their designer clothes matched the building’s ultra-modern appearance. Was that part of the problem? Did the Anchor’s humble exterior prevent people from taking a closer look?

She’d mused on this as she headed back in the Rusty Anchor’s direction, and her curiosity had remained in the background of her thoughts as she finished up her shift. Now, with the tables cleared and the dishes put away, she had nothing left to do but head out for the night. But to her surprise, she found she wasn’t interested in leaving just yet.

Tossing the last of the cleaning towels into the washing machine in the back, she walked toward Connor’s office and found her boss totaling the day’s receipts.

“Hey,” she ventured and waited until he looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. His black hair was mussed and standing slightly on end. She had the overwhelming urge to run her fingers through it, to smooth it into place. This swell of tenderness surprised her, and she wondered if she felt a little bit responsible for Connor’s current predicament. It couldn’t be an easy thing, to bounce back from the sort of review she’d given him.

“I’m all finished.”

He gave a curt nod and looked back down. She felt the sting of dismissal.

“Is there anything else I can do?” she offered.

He looked back up.

“Anything else?” he repeated.

“Yes, I mean...” She shifted awkwardly. “...do you need anything before I go?”

“Oh. No, thank you.” He returned his attention to the receipts in front of him. She waited, but he gave no indication he intended to speak further. Dissatisfied with this, she moved from the doorway and farther into his tiny office, taking the seat on the other side of his desk.

“I just wanted to ask...” She took a breath. “Why did you give me this job?”

He didn’t say anything, nor did he look up.

She crossed her arms at his seeming indifference. She hated to admit it, but she felt a sense of obligation toward Connor. Though she didn’t feel it was fair for him to blame his first restaurant’s failure on her review, she also recognized she had done him no favors with that critique. He, on the other hand, had done her one when he agreed to give her this job. She’d never admit it to him, or anyone else, but she felt just a little bit indebted to him. And she didn’t like owing anyone anything, especially not this irritable Irishman.

“You gave me a job when no one else would. I know you needed a server,” she clarified, “but all the same, I want you to know...” She swallowed, struggling to force out the words. “I...well, I appreciate it.”

There. She’d said it.

He eyed her. She couldn’t guess at what he was thinking. He might have been touched by her gratitude...or more likely, annoyed by the distraction when he was trying to work. At her prolonged study of him, he dropped his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be giving me too much credit. I’m not sure my motivations were entirely...honorable.”

She frowned, suspicion surfacing. “Did you really need another server? Or were you just looking for a cleaning lady?”

His gaze shot to hers, his brow wrinkling with aggravation. He seemed about to fire back some insult, but then, unexpectedly, he dipped his head.

“I told you the truth when I hired you—that my previous server was out of commission, and I needed a replacement. But you’re right that my treatment of you the past two weeks may have been less than fair.”

“Less than fair? That’s one way of putting it.” She knew the admission shouldn’t have rankled her so much. He’d still given her the job, hadn’t he?

He sighed. “All right, I admit it. I loaded you up with chores. And I apologize for it.”

This unanticipated apology caused her to falter, and she floundered, trying to regain her feelings of injustice.

“Yes, well. It was pretty underhanded, if you want to know the truth—hiring me on with the pretense of serving and then making me your janitor,” she primly informed.

“I agree.”

He did look truly penitent, but she wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook just yet.

“And so was making me clean out that grease trap.”

His face remained completely serious. “But you did a great job on it. It’s never been cleaner.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve enjoyed this just a little too much, haven’t you?”

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun.”

His smirk was endearing, as much as it was aggravating. She didn’t know whether to be charmed or frustrated. “Does that mean we’re even now? For the review?”

His brows lowered, all humor evaporating. “I hardly think a bit of mild hazing makes up for the damage your words caused me years ago.”

“Mild hazing? Is that what you’d call it?”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“Juvenile. And petty.”

The darkening of his eyes warned her she’d gone too far. “Petty, is it? Do you have any idea what your review cost me? Do you even care?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “It was one review.”

“No, it was the only review that mattered. I was an up-and-coming chef. I had backing and positive buzz. And your criticism tainted all that.”

“You can’t expect to open a restaurant and not receive a little harmless negative feedback?”

“Harmless?” Connor rose, knuckles planted on his desk as he leaned forward. “Do you even know the circumstances of the night you visited? Did you even bother to come back a second time to make sure we weren’t having an off night? I wasn’t even there when you ate at Éire. Do you know where I was?”

She knew better than to respond.

“I was here, in Findlay Roads. My father had a heart attack, and I rushed home to be with him. My sister, Rory, was across the country on a music gig, and she couldn’t get back right away. But I dropped everything and came because that’s what mattered. And because I wasn’t there at my restaurant, things weren’t running as smoothly as they should have been. My sous chef was filling in, and it was the first time he’d had to run the kitchen without me. It was a rough night.”