Chapter 3

“You call D’ante,” Scooter said. “I’ll put a sign up and call down to the paper.” Who knew, maybe someone in this town had a teenager who needed some work. That wasn’t likely—there wasn’t any public transportation that stopped close to the restaurant, and teens who had cars also had access to better-paying jobs. But who knew? Someday, one day, Scooter’s luck would change. Maybe

Not today, though. The side door creaked on its busted hinge as Kat went through it to dump the mop water outside, reminding Scooter of all the chores still to do. “And I still need to run into town and get those errands done before we open.” There was still time. Dockside opened at four on weekdays—they wouldn’t switch over to summer hours until Memorial Day weekend—and it wasn’t much past one now.