Footloose

“I can pour coffee and water if you like,” Amelia offered, and after a few half-hearted protests from the owner, Amelia began making beverage rounds.

Twenty minutes later, she put a glass of water in front of another customer, whom she noticed out of the corner of her eye was male. They’d started to blur together. “Good morning. Your waitress will be here in just a few minutes to take your order. Would you like some coffee?”

Silence followed. Then she heard, “Sure. New job?”

Amelia blinked, taking her first good look at the customer. With amused blue eyes framed by a dark fringe of lashes that matched his dark hair, he could have been a heart-stealer. If she’d had a heart left to steal.

Jack. Recognizing him from her night of hurricanes, she felt a rush of self-consciousness. “Not really. The owner was in a little bind. I’m free today, so it was no big deal to pour water and coffee.”

He looked at ease with himself in his t-shirt and shorts. Tanned, muscular legs and flip-flops suggested he had no problem kicking back and relaxing. She envied him that.

“You’re off all day today?”

She nodded, pouring coffee into his cup. “And tomorrow.”

“You want to take a day trip after you finish your shift here?” he asked, cracking a half-grin. “It’s Jack, by the way.”

“I remember,” she said. “And I’m—”

“Amelia,” he said before she could. His grin widened.

She hesitated a half-beat. She didn’t really know him. However, if he hadn’t taken advantage of her during her hurricane night, then he was probably okay. There had been the kiss, she reminded herself. But that had just been a kiss. A really really hot kiss, but…

She shook her head at her stupid debate. If she spent the afternoon with Jack, she wouldn’t have to dream up twenty more things to do today. “Thanks. That sounds good.”

He laughed. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?”

“Oh, yeah. Where?”

“Key West. Sundown party at Mallory Square.”

“I’ve never been to one of those,” she said, feeling a ping of anticipation.

“We can change that,” he said, lifting his cup. The way he looked at her over its rim made something inside her give a little jump, which surprised her. So maybe she wasn’t dead after all.

Another employee showed up after thirty minutes, so Amelia turned in her coffee pot and water pitcher. The owner thanked her effusively and promised future lunches on the house.

Resisting the urge to return to the Bellagio estate to change clothes, Amelia freshened up in the restaurant’s powder room. The humidity had her hair sticking out in twenty different directions. Without her flat iron, she would have to go au natural with her hair, which scared the poo out of her. Amelia had ironed her hair into submission for so long she didn’t really know what it would looked like if she let it go free.

Sighing, she shook her head. It wasn’t as if she was trying to impress anyone. She just wanted to fill some free time.

Jack tossed a few bills on the table and stood as she walked toward him. “Ready to go?”

She nodded and put on her sunglasses as she followed him to the small parking lot.

He stopped at a black Porsche and pulled a cap out of the back. “You might want to wear this. You look like you could burn in five minutes with the top down.”

“Try three,” she said wryly. “I don’t remember this car.”

He chuckled and opened the door for her. “I’m not sure you were in a condition to remember much of anything. The car belongs to a friend of mine. When I visit, he lets me stay at his place and use his wheels.”

“Nice friend,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Yep.”

“Where are you visiting from?”

“Chicago, right now.”

A roamer, she concluded. It didn’t surprise her. He looked like the kind to travel light. If she’d been looking for a keeper, that would have put her off, but she wasn’t so it didn’t bother her.

“What do you do?” she asked. “For a living.”

He shot her a smile that reminded her of a shark. “Whatever’s profitable,” he said, revealing nothing.

“Legal?” she pressed, because she had her limits.

“Clean as a whistle,” he said, but his silence made her think he didn’t teach kindergarten. He started the engine and backed out of the parking space.

“So, how’s it been working for Bellagio’s grande dame? She finally let you out of the cellar?” he said.

“Pushed me out,” Amelia muttered. “She’s not as bad as—” She broke off, remembering how Lillian had insisted she wanted to maintain her reputation. “She’s quite a woman.”

“Quite a woman,” Jack echoed. “She’s either won you over or you’re being politely vague.”

“Sort of like ‘whatever’s profitable,’” she shot back.

He glanced at her in surprise and looked back at the road, smiling. “So the sweet Georgia peach has been hiding a little kick.”

Amelia hadn’t really thought about having a kick. She’d pretty much relied on Will for most of the kicking. She adjusted her cap. “Who knew?”

“How long did you say you dated your ex?”

She winced, wondering how much she’d revealed during that night of too many hurricanes. “A long time,” she said vaguely.

“Wasn’t it twelve or thirteen years?”

“Nice of you to remind me.”

He shook his head. “I bet you’re just starting to find out who you are.”

His insight surprised her. “Maybe, but one of the things I’ve learned is that I don’t like to talk about myself.”

“Unless you’ve had a few hurricanes,” he said.

“A gentleman wouldn’t continue to bring that up.”

“I’m not that kind of a gentleman,” he told her cheerfully.