Moonlight House (Book 2, Lonstino & Greenwood Series)

Chapter 1 - The Club

"Alright, I'll go and eat something."

I wave at Noah to call his attention, who as usual, is chatting with a few girls who look as if they are about to drench their underwear. He says something that makes them giggle and then walks towards the bar.

"Can you cover for me here while I eat something?"

"Sure, we don't want to scrape you off from the floor again," he smiles cheekily.

I smile, but don't enjoy the comment. I let it go because Noah Tanner, together with Samuel García, are my best friends and I know the he's only teasing me. I've known them since we were kids when we moved into bed and breakfast my parents bought in the street they lived at in Lonstino. We grew up in the small town until we graduated high school and continued our adventures in Greenwood.

Noah is the all-around, practical, skilled, and fun guy. He knows how to do a bit of everything and keeps me sane at times. You can find him serving tables, managing the club when I'm not available, doing all the maintenance work necessary and showing his guitar-playing skills in the house band. On Saturdays, the same bunch of girls take place at the front of the stage, affectionately called by us 'Noah's groupies' and let out piercing screams for him. After two years, the situation is still surreal for him.

I guess our whole experience about planning and running the club has been surreal as well. The idea started already when we were of college-age and loved to hang around in bars and clubs here in the city. Noah and Erin would get gigs here and there and we would always go to watch them perform and cheer for them. Afterwards, we always went to have a bite at the all-night diner and would fantasize about having our own place and doing the things the way we wanted. The talks became serious with time, and we all had some savings we were willing to put into the business. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. I made a business plan and showed it to my dad. They had sold the bed and breakfast and moved to a smaller property in Sea Glass Beach that turned out to be a gold mine. I shamelessly asked Dad to back us for the loan. He saw how serious we were, took a leap of faith and co-signed.

"I made you some pasta with chicken and it should be in the oven of the other station. Tons of vegetables, light on the sauce. I saw Noah rummaging in the kitchen earlier so I still hope it's there," Sam says without looking at me while his gaze is on whatever he has in a pan.

"How do you know it's me?"

"I have eyes on the back of my head and your perfume offended my nostrils," he shrugs.

I take a whiff of the cologne on my clothes and don't think it smells that bad. His kitchen staff doesn't seem bothered by the smell either, so I can only conclude that he has a very sensitive nose. My stomach grumbles and I'm happy to find my meal in the oven. Sam plates a fish filet and carefully arranges vegetables next to it, then garnishes the meal with a creamy dill sauce that I love. He finishes a second plate and places it under a heating lamp then presses the light signal for our waiting staff.

"What the hell are you doing?" He snatches the bottle of dill sauce from my hand and a few of his sous-chefs smirk.

"I love this!"

"Adam, first of all, don't mess with the integrity of my food. Whatever you mix at your house is your problem, just don't do it in front of me," he returns the bottle to the condiments fridge and then leans back on the counter. "Second, that sauce is high in fat. You asked me to help you watch what you eat around here."

I feel embarrassed that he has said that out loud in front of his staff, but say nothing. It's not a secret that I've struggled with my weight since my teens, but that's something I don't need voiced out.

"And that was the last order for tonight. I'm ready to go home."

"You should let me hire an additional chef to help with the lunch shift. I know you are proud of your dinner selection, but you can have someone take care of lunch and you can start later."

"I know I was against it, but after that review in the newspaper the food's become popular," he sighs. "I mean, that's the best compliment you can get as a chef, but I'm feeling the pressure now. If I keep putting up with 12-hour work days I'll burn out."

"It's what I've been telling you for a while. I'll put on a search request on Monday and hopefully will find you some good candidates to interview. Just let me know any specifics and I'll add them."

"Thanks, Adam, will do. Hey, talking about Monday, I got a date," he grins.

"Why do you always announce your dates as if it's the first time you go on one?" I tease. "Women basically throw themselves at you. I seem to be the only bastard around here who needs to make an effort," I laugh.

"I don't know. I guess the idea makes me happy. Maybe you should go out a bit more. That would do you good."

"That's easy to say when you look like you, or like Noah or Rory."

"So much bullshit," he shakes his head. "Whoever likes you, will do no matter how you look. Anyway, this girl is amazing and I feel comfortable enough to even flirt with her. You probably have seen her; she works at the little chocolate shop at the beginning of the street. I gathered all my courage this morning and asked her out."

"Are you talking about Marisol?"

"Yeah, do you know her?" He asks surprised.

"I've been to her store a few times. Erin and my mom love her chocolates. She doesn't just work there; she owns the business."

"Does she? You just saved me from opening my mouth and putting my foot in it."

My networking skills are definitely better than my friend's so I have that going on for me.

"Is Erin back?" He asks while he changes clothes and I finish my food.

"Not yet. Do you know anything about the surprise she has for us?"

"Surprise? No, she didn't say anything. Didn't she go to the hair salon?"

"Yeah, she did. I thought she tells you everything."

"Not everything," he says and then wishes a good night to his staff.

We head outside the kitchen and through the crowd, I see Erin and her surprise walking our way.