Siren by Tricia Rayburn Read Free Book Online

grow, until my head felt like a small bell being hit with a very large mallet.
    "Not lost," I managed, pressing my fingers against my temples. "Just hungry. Garrett said his friend was going to help me out?"
    A man's voice said, "There's the cutie in the ponytail."
    I released my temples. The sound had faded as quickly as it'd hit.
    "How bad is it? Headache? Nausea? Is everything around you spinning at a thousand miles an hour even though you're standing still?"
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    I looked behind me to see a middle-aged guy in a white cooking jacket and black-and-white houndstooth-check pants smiling sympathetically. Garrett's friend. "All of the above," I said meekly.
    He winked. "No problem. I'll have you feeling brand-new in no time."
    I followed him up the steps, glancing over my shoulder just in time to see the girl toss a bag of garbage into the Dumpster and disappear around the side of the house.
    "So, what'll it be? French toast? Eggs? You name it, I'll make it."
    "Anything would be great," I said as we made our way through the crowded kitchen.
    "You should know that, as New England magazine's top-rated brunch chef for seven years running, I don't do this for just anyone." He opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, and handed it to me. "I do this for Garrett."
    "Does Garrett do this often?" I took the water.
    "Not before today." He nodded across the kitchen. "Paige, darling, will you please escort Miss Vanessa to the rear dining room?"
    I turned to see a pretty girl with two long, dark braids smiling and waiting for me near a doorway.
    "Welcome to Betty's," she said over her shoulder as I followed her down a narrow hallway. "First time here?"
    "Yes." It'd been so long it felt like the first time. "I've heard so many good things I had to see for myself."
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    "You won't be disappointed." She stopped at a door at the end of the hallway and carefully shifted the plate, juice glass, and silverware she held.
    I lunged forward and grabbed the plate as it started to slip from her grip.
    "Thanks," she said. "I've been here two hours, and I've already broken three coffee cups and a water pitcher. Not exactly the way to graduate from bus girl to waitress."
    "Probably not."
    She opened the door with her free hand and headed up a steep staircase. "But who knew waiting tables was so complicated? I mean, you carry plates of food and glasses of water every day at home, right? No big deal."
    "Right."
    "Wrong." She stepped to the side when she reached the landing. "It's hard . Especially when you're supposed to carry five plates at a time, all weighed down by Betty's famous mammoth portions, and your arms are as skinny as shoelaces."
    I smiled when she raised the empty juice glass and flexed.
    "Seriously. That's as big as it gets." She looked wistfully at her flat biceps.
    "Maybe you can do push-ups when it's not so busy," I offered. "Build up your strength."
    "I wish. Betty's is never not busy."
    I looked around when I joined her on the landing. The break room was a screened-in balcony that jutted out over the pier and offered unobstructed views of the harbor and mountains.
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    "Best seat in the house," she said, leading me to a plastic table in the middle of the room. "The staff inherited it because it's right above the bar and not as romantic when the tourists get rowdy." She smiled. "Speaking of, where are you from?"
    I started to respond just as a door slammed somewhere below.
    "The dirty dishes don't clear themselves!" An annoyed voice carried up the stairwell.
    "That's for me." Paige hurried across the balcony. "Z says my inability to stop talking is even worse than my inability to carry three dishes at once without breaking two of them."
    "Z?"
    "Zara," Paige shot over her shoulder. "God's gift to hungry diners everywhere. And my older sister."
    As Zara lectured her from the bottom of the stairs and Paige nodded, I thought again about how nice she seemed. Genuine. In fact, I hadn't noticed it happen while we were talking, but my