I glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Shit,” I mumbled to myself. It was already past eleven. I’d gotten lost in inventory hell and had made painfully little progress. Between running the orders, managing staff schedules, payroll, and working double shifts more often than I wanted to admit, I needed help. “Back here, Caelyn.” I made my way out of the stockroom and into the bar.

Caelyn grinned at me as she wound her hair into a topknot. “You have the angry-eyes thing going on. Inventory?”

I blew out a breath that sent my hair fluttering around my face. “Yes.”

“You know I would’ve come in early to help.”

I tossed her a rag and scooted a spray bottle across the counter. “I know, but we just can’t swing paying anyone for extra hours right now.”

Caelyn got to work wiping down tables in the central area of the restaurant while I started on the bar top. “Things still tight?”

I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “Hunter says he’s working on getting us some help. Hopefully, that’ll come sooner rather than later.”

“I hope so, too, but you know you don’t have to pay me. I’ll help off the clock. I’m worried about you, Bell. You’re going to run yourself ragged trying to keep this place afloat.”

The concern in her eyes had warmth spreading through me. “Thanks, but I’ve got it handled.”

“Those dark circles under your eyes say otherwise.”

“Says the girl working two jobs and taking her siblings to every extracurricular activity known to man.” Caelyn stuck out her tongue and tossed her rag at me, but I caught it before it could get any nasty cleaning goop on me. “You’re lucky I have catlike reflexes.”

Caelyn smirked. “Maybe I’ll start calling you kitty cat instead of Bell.”

“Only if you want to be on bathroom duty all summer.”

Her mouth fell open. “You wouldn’t.”

I arched a brow at her. “Try me.”

Caelyn shook her head. “You are vicious, woman.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

We worked in a choreographed routine that spoke of all the hours, days, and years we’d been at this. Soon, the lunch rush was upon us. Hank was cooking up orders in the back, and Darlene had joined Caelyn on the floor. There were few restaurants that stayed open year-round, and The Catch had been a staple on Anchor forever. But things had picked up even more since Frank’s stroke. It was the island folks’ way of supporting one of their own when they knew we were struggling to keep our heads above water. But the tourist rush was around the corner, and that should take the pressure off for a while—as long as we could keep up with the demand.

“Bell.”