Under The Boardwalk. Amie Denman

to pull up stakes,” Bernie said. “Besides, people expect me to be here...they bring their kids to get the same boardwalk fries they got when they were little.” He spread his hands, looking around him for support. “It’s a tradition.”

      “Hate to bother her when she’s grieving, but we could try talking to Jack’s mother,” Hank suggested.

      “No,” three voices said at the same time.

      “Virginia gets wind of this,” Bernie said, “we’ll all get etiquette lessons for the STRIPE this summer.”

      “Lessons?” Gus asked. Virginia had mentioned making Gus her STRIPE sergeant, but she’d let the thought get lost among all her other concerns.

      Tosha sat on the arm of Gus’s chair. “Every summer, Virginia plans and operates the Summer Training Improvement Program for Employees. All employees. Vendors, management, security, beach patrol, everyone.”

      Hank nodded and grimaced. “Everyone. Part of the contract.”

      “Is it part of our contract?” Gus asked. She flipped through the document crumpled in her hand.

      “Page four,” Bernie said. “Already checked.”

      “So, what does everyone have to do?”

      “Depends on the program,” Tosha explained. “It’s usually a skill Virginia considers useful. She always insists that, whatever her crazy idea is, everyone should know how to do it just in case. She views this as more than just a summer job, wants people to take away skills as well as their minimum wage, I guess.”

      “I’m almost afraid to ask,” Gus said. “What kind of stuff have you had to do?”

      “Change the oil in a car engine,” Hank said.

      “Swimming lessons,” Tosha added.

      The other vendors jumped in.

      “Square dancing.”

      “Setting a formal dinner table and polishing silver.”

      “Knitting socks and a scarf.”

      “Conversational Spanish.”

      “Riding a horse—English and Western.”

      Gus felt her tension slipping into the soft chair. She grinned. “I had no idea this job came with such perks. I feel like a better person already.”

      Bernie groaned. “You gotta understand. Virginia’s serious about this stuff. You not only have to attend a series of classes, but you gotta prove you actually paid attention.” He passed a large hand over his face. “Didn’t think I was going to make it the summer we had to sew a backpack and embroider our name on it. To her satisfaction.” He looked around, a lopsided grin edging up one corner of his mouth. “You know what? I still use that darn thing.”

      “How can this be legal?” Gus asked. “It seems pretty far-fetched.”

      Hank shrugged. “If it’s in the contract and you sign it, you’re obligated. If you don’t play along, you’re not getting invited back next year.”

      “Assuming we make it through this year,” Tosha said.

      “Maybe I can help,” Gus said. “Virginia said something about me being a sergeant this year. What if she wants everyone to learn to bake chocolate-chip cookies? I could make it easy for you.”

      “No way,” Hank said. “It wouldn’t be that simple. We probably have to assemble a three-tiered wedding cake and deliver it. Just in case we ever need to do that in our lives.”

      “Or make a soufflé that doesn’t fall, even in a thunderstorm,” Tosha suggested.

      “Or decorate cookies representing every ride in the ever-lovin’ park,” Hank growled.

      “Hope not,” Gus said. “I’ve got some signature cookies planned, even ordered special cutters in the shapes of some of the trademark rides. Don’t want anyone stealing my thunder.”

      Everyone was silent for a moment.

      “So,” Tosha said. “Sounds like you plan to sign that contract and stick it out?”

      Gus fooled with the silver A she wore on a chain around her neck. “I’ve got three shops.”

      “That’s sixty thousand bucks,” Bernie said. “He’s killing you worse than the rest of us.”

      “But I’ve already made a huge investment in equipment, got supplies ordered. I’m in debt up to my eyebrows.” Gus tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked up, meeting the eyes of the more vocal vendors standing closest to her. “If I walk away, I lose for sure. If I stay, it’s a gamble.”

      “We could try talking to him again,” Hank suggested. “Maybe not gang up on him this time. He’s probably still smarting from everything that’s happened.”

      Gus raised one eyebrow, twisting her necklace and chewing her lip. Hank had ketchup and mustard stains permanently occupying his shirtfront, but he had a point.

      “I think we should send you,” Bernie said, pointing at Gus.

      “Why me?”

      “I agree,” Tosha said. “Since you’re the newest of us, you’ve got a more practical approach. Not so much emotional baggage.”

      Gus considered her connection to Jack so far. She’d met him for the first time Saturday night in the parking lot. Standing next to him by the darkening bay, she’d felt a tug of...something.

      “Plus you’ve got three stores here,” Hank said. “You’re a great choice for spokesman.”

      “And you’re the tallest,” Bernie added, smiling.

      “Very convincing,” Gus said.

      They all waited for her to say something.

      “I’ll try to talk to him later today,” Gus said. “I’m interviewing workers for my bakeshops in about fifteen minutes.”

      Gus followed the same path of retreat Jack had taken only ten minutes before. The Lake Breeze Hotel was aptly named: its location on the lakeside of the Starlight Point Peninsula opened it to fresh air all year long. A wide sandy beach and a boardwalk were the only things between the massive Victorian structure and the water.

      She leaned on the blue metal railing separating the boardwalk from the sandy beach. Bright sunshine and the sparkling lake should have made her happy, but she had a sixty-thousand-dollar lump in her throat. How could she manage it?

      Movement way down the deserted boardwalk caught her eye. She turned her head just enough to see Jack Hamilton doing exactly the same thing she was. He leaned on the railing, stared at the sunshine and water, and didn’t look any happier than she did.

      Gus considered marching down the boardwalk and negotiating the terms of all the lease vendors’ contracts right then and there. She’d go with honey, not vinegar, this time in hopes of catching something a whole lot more pleasant than the deal they had right now. She’d toss her hair, smile winningly and appeal to his soft side. If he had one.

      She took one step. Two steps. And thought better of it. He was brooding. Maybe he was grieving for his father. Overwhelmed by his new responsibilities? Or secretly delighted he finally had the power to profit from people like her, Hank, Tosha and Bernie? Maybe he wanted to drive the vendors out and keep all the cash from the food stands. Whatever his deal was, Gus didn’t think approaching him now would help the vendors’ cause. Especially since he could probably guess who’d snapped a rubber band into his cranium only minutes before. Time might be her friend when it came to figuring out how to deal with Jack Hamilton.

      * * *

      GUS WAS BEAUTIFUL. And she’d be right under his nose all summer long. Unless he chased her away with his asinine contract hikes.

      The