Undeniable

Undeniable - Chapter 2

Oh, yay, chapter 2

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without further adueeeee..... chapter 2! (HA it rhymed :P)

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I threw my hair in a sloppy ponytail.

"Jos, honey," Charlotte called up to me, "be back before dinner, okay?"

"Alright, mom."

"I'm gonna run to Kroger and get some cake mix for the King's, but if you need me, call."

I heard the door close.

I threw on my usual; a bikini top with a large arm holed tank and board shorts and flip flops. 

My room was small, cozy, but small. Just how I liked it. I had an old surf board nailed to my wall, courtesy of my father.

My dad, Ben Brannon had died in a car crash about 8 years ago. It was hard on us, especially Charlotte. They had one of those marriages where the love never dies; it's always present, you could tell by their faces.

We had slowly gotten over his death but still referred to him, because Char said it was a healthy thing to do so that we didn't feel like it was an 'off limits' topic to discuss.

I tossed my small bag over my shoulder with sunscreen, sunglasses, and my phone. All I really needed.

I worked at a small cafe on the boardwalk called Stan's. It was a family owned joint, a small and quaint place that sold high quality food for low prices. I fell in love with it the moment I walked in, to the point where I begged Stan to be his first employee who wasn't a family member.

Of course, I was like family to Stanley Johnson and his family now. I was there all the time, even when I wasn't working. It had great access to the beach, an amazing view, and, like most other things, was within walking distance from my house.

"Morning, Stan," I said, walking in and tossing my bag in the small cubby with 'Josie' written on it.

Stan was wiping down the countertop, preparing the little cafe for the big crowd of locals that it attracted.

"How's is hanging, Jay Bran?"

"Lovely," I said, taking his rag and finishing up his wiping for him.

Stan was around 50 years old and had a deep passion for selling pastries. No joke, he will run Stan's Cafe until he dies.

"Heard about the new family," he said, sipping his water.

"Yeah, the King's."

"Morrison house, right?"

I nodded.

"You like them?"

I shrugged. "From what I know of them, sure."

"Anyone your age?"

"Their son, Thomas."

He nodded.

I slid on an apron and watched Stan flip the closed sign to open. One by one, customers walking on the boardwalk filed into the little cafe.