Chapter 12

To make things even worse, his never-ending stack of homework meant he had an all-night study session to look forward to. Both his fingers and toes were crossed he’d make it through the semester. Then he was free. Just him, Lake Michigan, and the brand-new kayak he left sitting in the middle of his apartment as motivation.

“Weather Guy Grant!” Amy clutched at his arm, sending the croutons he had scooped up flying across the salad bar to land in the open container of olives. “Didn’t you see him?”

“What table?” Craig untied his apron and turned the cloth around. Did that hide the stain?

“Table eight, back by the windows. I already served their drinks.” Amy peered over her shoulder with exaggerated drama. “I can’t say much for the guy he’s with, but Mr. Grant Singer is just as much of a cutie as he was before.”