Flirting with Boys by Abbott, Hailey (books to read for beginners .TXT) 📕

Mom’s concerned voice continued. “The dining

room’s ending breakfast service in fifteen minutes. If you two don’t make it, that’s it until lunch.”

Celeste bolted upright, swiping the hair out her eyes.

“Okay!” she called. “We’ll be right there.”

Devon climbed out of bed and tried to smooth some of the wrinkles out of the silver minidress she was still wearing. Celeste eyed her friend. “Are you going to work in that?” she asked.

“No problem.” Devon started rummaging in Celeste’s closet. “I’m just going to borrow your black ballet flats and this wraparound top, okay?” She tied the black jersey top at the waist, slipped on the flats, and scraped her hair into a bun.

Celeste laughed. “You are amazing. How is it that you look like you’ve been planning that outfit for weeks?”

“Natural skill.” Devon winked and opened the door.

“Hey, what about breakfast?” Celeste called after her.

“Can’t.” Devon’s voice floated up the stairs. “It’s my first day on the new job… .” Her words trailed off as the front door banged.

Celeste jumped out of bed and leaned out the open window to inhale the fresh morning air. The lemon sunlight spread over the white buildings of the resort and the desert beyond like icing. It was a gorgeous morning—

the start of her first summer working with Travis! Well, working near Travis, Celeste amended to herself. Even if they were going to be in totally different jobs, he was here and that was what mattered. Celeste felt like doing a Julie Andrews “The Hills Are Alive” dance around the room, but breakfast was waiting. Travis’s job didn’t start until next week, so she pushed her lingering fear about a Travis-Nick showdown out of her mind for now. She took the world’s fastest shower and plaited her hair into two long braids. Then she put on her white sleeveless polo shirt with the discreet Pinyon logo and her regula-tion khaki shorts. She didn’t know why Mom had to choose Bermuda length for this year’s uniform. It just made her legs look stumpy. Cursing Devon for having snagged the one non-uniform-requiring job at Pinyon, she stuck her feet into her Sperry Top-Siders and rubbed on a little M.A.C. Lipglass and some mascara.

In the spacious terra cotta–colored dining room, her father was sitting at his usual back table, papers and forms spread out everywhere. A cup of black coffee and a croissant with a single bite out of it were pushed to one side. Celeste collapsed in the chair across from him and picked up a piece of rubber tubing sitting on the table.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Sink piping,” Dad answered, furiously signing a stack of invoices. “Harold ordered fifty of them and they’re all the wrong size. Mrs. Klein called down this morning and said her sink was spraying all over the bathroom floor.”

“Oh.” Celeste was rapidly losing interest. She put the tubing down and looked around for breakfast. As if by magic, a skinny guy in a white jacket appeared next to her. “Oh, awesome, Rick! Thanks.” Celeste could see the tattoos on the backs of both his hands as he set down a plate with a toasted bagel, cream cheese, and a dish of blueberries and punched Celeste lightly in the shoulder.

“Solomon says to tell you that he only toasted your bagel because you promised to help him post that ad for his washing machine on Craigslist.”

“Of course! We can do it this afternoon.”

“Rick,” Dad said, looking up with a frown, “all of the strawberries were wilted this morning. Remember we discussed the importance of garnishes at the last kitchen staff meeting.”

“Yes, Mr. Tippen,” Rick said seriously. Celeste caught his glance and rolled her eyes at her father.

“And please, for the last time, you need to remove your lip ring. Remember Pinyon dress code.”

“Right, no problem.” Rick hurried away.

Celeste took a huge bite of her bagel and followed it with a gulp of orange juice. Pinyon Ranch’s trademark was fresh orange juice squeezed every morning from their own orange grove out back. It was one of Celeste’s favorite things in the entire world.

“Celeste,” her father said.

“Yeth?” she said through a mouthful of bagel.

“We need to go over the schedule for today.” Her father pulled out a huge spreadsheet covered with tiny boxes showing everything that was happening at the resort that day and who was supposed to be doing what.

“Now, the first thing—Larry and Kathy Saunders will be arriving in half an hour.”

Oh. Celeste set down her bagel. Suddenly, it tasted like cardboard soaked in guilt.

“I need you to go over to the guesthouse this morning and check it. Everything should be ready, but I want you to place the welcome basket and our personal note to them.”

“Okay,” Celeste mumbled.

“Celeste.”

She looked up. Dad set down his pen and slid his reading glasses onto the tip of his nose. Oh no. It was the “I’m going to tell you something very important that will require you to do a large amount of work” look.

She’d been familiar with it since birth.

“The Saunders family are our best customers,” Dad said. “Their happiness this summer is our number-one priority.”

“Of course, Dad!” Celeste widened her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blood draining from her face.

Her father knit his eyebrows. “Your mother and I are depending on you to help keep them happy and coming back. I want you to keep that in mind.”

Celeste set down her spoon. She probably shouldn’t eat any more blueberries considering the way her stomach was churning.

Dad went on. “Second thing. I’ve informed Jason

that he should be on the lookout for Travis Helding at ten thirty sharp. They’ll need to go over the procedure for—”

“Wait, what? I thought Travis wasn’t starting until next week!” In fact, she’d been counting on having a few days to get things straight with Nick—as in, this summer, there was going to be no flirting and definitely no fool-ing around.

“He was, but Dominick dropped a mower engine on

his foot this morning. He’ll be