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“So you got him drunk, then made sure he fell off the pier, am I getting that right?”
“Yes! While I was showing him around town, he told me he didn’t know how to swim, and to me, that should be a deal breaker for anyone trying to be fire chief in Lake Bittersweet. But how would the hiring committee ever find that out beforehand? Now they know!”
Watching his awkward plunge into the water had been extra sweet because of his connection to Dominic. If only she could have pushed Dominic off a pier. It was wildly empowering.
“He could have been hurt.”
“I knew he wouldn’t, the water’s not that deep. And the entire town was right there. And then you rescued him, and it couldn’t have been more perfect!” She clapped her hands together, still fizzy with glee. “He looked like a clown and you looked like a hero.”
“So you did this for me?”
“Yes. You’re welcome. Believe me, no one’s going to want to hire a fire chief who got drunk on his first night in town and fell overboard. There’s absolutely no way he’s getting the job now.”
“Does he know that?”
She took his hand, noticing that it was still chilled from his time in the lake. She didn’t regret what she’d done. Jason deserved a little boost. And Mark deserved a dip. Win-win, and she’d pulled it off flawlessly. The only downside was that she’d had to stay close to him all evening to keep putting vodka in his drink. It was worth it, knowing that Dominic’s smug jerk of a relative was going to end up in the water.
So very satisfying.
She smiled up at Jason, wondering when he’d stop fretting and start praising her. Why was he so upset? Maybe it was because his public safety sensibilities had been offended.
Fair enough.
“I knew he’d be fine,” she said again. “In the entire history of Lake Bittersweet, no one has died from falling off the dock.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “That’s not the problem.”
“Okay, what then?”
“Betty saw you push him. We were dancing together. I brought her specifically so that she’d see what a great job you did with the concert. Then you screwed it all up with that stunt.”
Her heart plummeted right down to her feet. How on earth had Betty spotted her little maneuver? No one else had noticed. “Are you sure?” she managed.
“Yes. She said, ‘did you see what Kendra did?’ And then she used the word ‘unprofessional.’”
Kendra gasped, since she could barely imagine a worse insult. “Unprofessional?”
“Or ‘not very professional,’ something like that. I tried to play it off, but she knew what she saw. She lectured me.” He kicked at a loose plank on the pier. “I should never have brought her to the concert. Fuck me. I was trying to help you.”
“I was trying to help you!” Butterflies rampaged through her stomach. How badly had she messed up? Could she explain it away somehow? Claim it hadn’t been intentional, just a random arm spasm?
Then the irony of the situation sank in. “Wait. I was trying to help you. You were trying to help me. We were both trying to help each other, and we both totally screwed it up?”
They gazed at each other in the starlight. He looked gorgeous to her, the planes of his face molded in light and shadow, his eyes a dark shimmer.
At the same moment, they burst out laughing.
“We couldn’t have planned it worse,” he said.
“A perfectly executed disaster,” she agreed.
They laughed until Kendra felt tears squeeze from her eyes. She remembered all the times she and her crew of fellow chambermaids had laughed like that on this very spot. The Blue Drake pier had been their favorite place for sunbathing and goofing around.
Something shifted inside her, a kind of tension releasing. She hadn’t known she’d been carrying it—or maybe she had, but she’d gotten so used to it that she didn’t think about it any more.
“I guess all you can do is laugh about it,” she finally said, wiping her eyes.
“Pretty much my motto in general.”
