could almost make one believe in fate. When are you going to see her again?"
"Tonight. But there's one little problem."
"What?"
"She thinks I'm attracted to her friend."
Eric lifted a brow. "You consider that a little problem?"
"She's just misinformed. Sure I said hello to Adriana in class and talked to her awhile, but I wasn't flirting. Cassie thinks that I'm practicing on her. Something to do with being shy as a child."
Eric shook his head. "A psychology major, beware."
Drake grinned. "I'm not worried. I know a little psychology myself."
"I'd wish you luck, but you already seem to have it. Oh, by the way, I spoke to Patrick the other day. He said you shot down his latest brilliant idea."
Patrick was the manager of Drake’s other restaurant, the Red Hut. "I don't shoot down brilliant ideas, only illogical ones."
"He's beginning to feel undervalued and restless. He might leave."
Drake shrugged, unconcerned. "That's his choice."
Someone knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Lance, his manager, poked his head inside. He ran an agitated hand through his thick brown hair; his green eyes offered pity. "That girl is back."
Drake rested his arms on the table. "You mean that annoying one with the short hair, big eyes, and huge gold earrings?"
Lance nodded. "That's the one."
"Don't know her."
A tall, dark-skinned girl pushed her way into the room. Her manner didn't seem to fit her appearance. She had a few more years to grow into her body and her hair was cut into a chic bob, emphasizing her brown eyes. She wore a tailor-made white shirt and blue trousers and looked as if she'd stepped off a movie set as a boarding school extra. "I just need five minutes of your precious time, Mr. Henson."
Drake sat back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the desk. The girl was aggravating, but he had to admire her tenacity. "Three minutes starting now."
"Mr. Henson, please let me work at the Blue Mango. I will work for free if necessary. I know you said that you don't have any positions available, but I'll make one up. I'm very creative, you know, and you'll be so pleased with me you'll wish you had thought of it yourself. I love your restaurant and I had such a wonderful time when you let my cooking class tour here. I want to follow in your footsteps. I notice that occasionally you allow students to intern here and I would do anything to seize that opportunity."
"Pamela, I'm sorry but I can't help you. Try the Docks. I'll get the phone number for you."
Pamela shook her head, her large earrings hitting her cheeks. "Don't bother. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"Pity."
He stood and escorted her to the front door and held it open.
She stopped and stared at him. "You may be tough, but you're fair. I'm not giving up on you yet." She sauntered out.
"Why don't you just give her a chance?" Eric asked as Drake watched Pamela race across the street.
"Because I'm already mentoring a kid."
They heard the sound of shattering glass.
Eric grinned at Drake's groan. "And that would be him right now."
They both went into the back dining hall, where they saw Cedric Diaz sweeping up glass. His ponytail was held back by a red rubber band, his trousers were wrinkled, and his off-white shirt was beginning to resemble his olive skin. He looked particularly uninterested in what he was doing. Lance came up to them, followed by his assistant manager, Trent.
"He has to go," Lance said under his breath.
Drake rubbed his chin. "He needs time."
Lance ran a hand through his hair, staring at the mess. "I know you're trying to help him, but he doesn't care about the job. He comes in late, argues when corrected, and doesn't uphold the image we are trying to reflect. Just look at him."
Drake didn't want to. Cedric had a real attitude problem that wasn't going to take him far, but he didn't have a father and his busy mother was terrified that either gangs or death would take her son. Drake knew the fates of some former classmates who never
"Tonight. But there's one little problem."
"What?"
"She thinks I'm attracted to her friend."
Eric lifted a brow. "You consider that a little problem?"
"She's just misinformed. Sure I said hello to Adriana in class and talked to her awhile, but I wasn't flirting. Cassie thinks that I'm practicing on her. Something to do with being shy as a child."
Eric shook his head. "A psychology major, beware."
Drake grinned. "I'm not worried. I know a little psychology myself."
"I'd wish you luck, but you already seem to have it. Oh, by the way, I spoke to Patrick the other day. He said you shot down his latest brilliant idea."
Patrick was the manager of Drake’s other restaurant, the Red Hut. "I don't shoot down brilliant ideas, only illogical ones."
"He's beginning to feel undervalued and restless. He might leave."
Drake shrugged, unconcerned. "That's his choice."
Someone knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Lance, his manager, poked his head inside. He ran an agitated hand through his thick brown hair; his green eyes offered pity. "That girl is back."
Drake rested his arms on the table. "You mean that annoying one with the short hair, big eyes, and huge gold earrings?"
Lance nodded. "That's the one."
"Don't know her."
A tall, dark-skinned girl pushed her way into the room. Her manner didn't seem to fit her appearance. She had a few more years to grow into her body and her hair was cut into a chic bob, emphasizing her brown eyes. She wore a tailor-made white shirt and blue trousers and looked as if she'd stepped off a movie set as a boarding school extra. "I just need five minutes of your precious time, Mr. Henson."
Drake sat back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the desk. The girl was aggravating, but he had to admire her tenacity. "Three minutes starting now."
"Mr. Henson, please let me work at the Blue Mango. I will work for free if necessary. I know you said that you don't have any positions available, but I'll make one up. I'm very creative, you know, and you'll be so pleased with me you'll wish you had thought of it yourself. I love your restaurant and I had such a wonderful time when you let my cooking class tour here. I want to follow in your footsteps. I notice that occasionally you allow students to intern here and I would do anything to seize that opportunity."
"Pamela, I'm sorry but I can't help you. Try the Docks. I'll get the phone number for you."
Pamela shook her head, her large earrings hitting her cheeks. "Don't bother. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"Pity."
He stood and escorted her to the front door and held it open.
She stopped and stared at him. "You may be tough, but you're fair. I'm not giving up on you yet." She sauntered out.
"Why don't you just give her a chance?" Eric asked as Drake watched Pamela race across the street.
"Because I'm already mentoring a kid."
They heard the sound of shattering glass.
Eric grinned at Drake's groan. "And that would be him right now."
They both went into the back dining hall, where they saw Cedric Diaz sweeping up glass. His ponytail was held back by a red rubber band, his trousers were wrinkled, and his off-white shirt was beginning to resemble his olive skin. He looked particularly uninterested in what he was doing. Lance came up to them, followed by his assistant manager, Trent.
"He has to go," Lance said under his breath.
Drake rubbed his chin. "He needs time."
Lance ran a hand through his hair, staring at the mess. "I know you're trying to help him, but he doesn't care about the job. He comes in late, argues when corrected, and doesn't uphold the image we are trying to reflect. Just look at him."
Drake didn't want to. Cedric had a real attitude problem that wasn't going to take him far, but he didn't have a father and his busy mother was terrified that either gangs or death would take her son. Drake knew the fates of some former classmates who never
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