3. Chapter 3 #2
“We’re just getting started, boss,” he says in a thick Italian accent. “But the tables are filling quickly.”
“Excellent. I’ll make my rounds as soon as the tables are filled.”
Lorenzo nods and goes back to sautéing the onions, garlic, and mushrooms.
My office is neat and organized, like everything in my life. It’s about control and structure created from a life of high expectations and demands to succeed. I know myself entirely too well—more than I’d like sometimes.
I try to find work to keep myself busy, but my manager, who’s off today, has everything done. Bills are paid, emails are responded to, and supplies are ordered.
“Well, I guess I’ll get out there,” I say to myself.
When I step out onto the floor, a line is forming by the host stand. Exactly what I want to see.
I scan the crowd. I don’t recognize most of the faces, being tourists, but a few stand out: locals who regularly frequent my restaurant.
Over the past couple of years, I’ve had a few influencers come in and boast about my place, which really helped boost sales.
I amble my way over to a table with four adults. There’s food on their table, and they’ve started to eat. “Good evening. Mason Vitali, at your service. I hope you’re enjoying your meal.”
“Oh, this is so delicious,” says a blonde woman.
“Indeed. We were told to stop by your restaurant when we came to Durango. It’s amazing.”
I give them a courteous bow. “Thank you. I’m pleased you’re enjoying yourselves.” I reach for the glass carafe of water in the middle of the table and fill their glasses. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“We’re perfect, thank you,” she says.
I leave their table and head toward another table of four, but I know these faces. Four ladies, widows, roughly in their seventies, and best friends. They’re usually here only on Saturday nights, but since it’s Tuesday, they must be celebrating. Some of my favorite customers are the regulars.
“Ah, it’s my good friends!” I greet. “What a pleasure to see you here again.”
I first shake Esther’s hand, then I do so with Sally, Elizabeth, and Justina.
And they’re the biggest flirts.
“You look picture-perfect, Mason,” says Sally.
Esther nods. “So handsome.”
“And you all look stunning as always.”
“Oh, please… you’re such a tease,” giggles Elizabeth.
I fill Justina’s empty glass with their bottle of Barbera wine. “How’s the hunt going for Mrs. Vitali?” she asks.
I wink and smile. “Tsk, are you trying to set me up?”
“Dear, we have been trying to set you up for the past year, and you refuse to bite. Are you going to be alone forever?” Esther says. “A man as handsome as you needs a good wife to take care of him.”
I try not to take offense. They have no idea of my sexuality. While I don’t hide it, it’s not something I advertise either. Not that there’s been anything to advertise. I’ve been single since I left New York.
“I’m afraid I’m destined to be a bachelor.” Before they dig deeper, I say, “Are we celebrating tonight?”
Esther smiles sweetly. “Now, how did you know?”
I spread my arms and smile. “You’re never here during the week.”
“Aren’t you clever?” Justina giggles.
It’s Sally who waves her hand. “It’s my seventy-second birthday.”
“You don’t look a day over seventy, my dear,” I quip and bow. She laughs and waves me off. “Seriously, you all are absolutely lovely. I’ll have my chef make something special for dessert.”
“You’re such a dear, Mason,” Sally says. “Thank you.”
I give them another bow. “Ladies, please enjoy your meal. Let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.”
We say our goodbyes, and as I make my way to the next table, I stop in my tracks. It takes me a second to get my bearings, but since Jinx is watching me intently, I have to go over there.
I hadn’t expected him, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I gave him my card after all.
He’s cleaned up nicely for dinner, wearing a crisp navy suit, a white dress shirt, and a lavender tie. He keeps his straight, tousled hair parted on the side and combed back. It makes him look older. He’s sitting with four other young men I don’t recognize.
Two of them are clinging sweetly to each other, talking quietly.
They must be in a relationship. One is blond, and one is a redhead, both of whom don’t look much older than Jinx, perhaps even younger.
The other two men across the table are holding hands but aren’t leaning on each other.
The young man with dark brown, curly hair exudes confidence, strength, and refinement.
His partner appears shier, with bleached, silvery hair that spills over his ears.
Why does my heart beat faster at seeing Jinx? I’d resigned myself to not pursuing him, but now? It’s as if fate has intervened. He must be a local, but I’ve never seen him around before.
I can’t stop envisioning ways to control him and make him mine. If anyone needs a good spanking, it’s him. He appears to be someone who would thrive under a firm but gentle hand. I’d been a Dom long enough to know.
Jesus, to have my hand red and stinging again… It’s been too damn long. I can already feel the tug of need to control and dominate. I can’t remember the last time I felt this pull toward finding a sub again. Not since I stumbled right into Jinx, the little brat.
I quickly shove aside visions of him naked, on his knees, staring up at me, begging for special treatment if he’s good.
Despite the last time ending horribly, the dominant side of me is difficult to shed.
It’s a part of me as much as I’m Italian or tall.
It was easier to fight off while living here rather than in New York. But now, I’m not sure I can any longer.
Everything’s changed.
But I shouldn’t. I can’t.
I won’t.
I stand at their table and smile graciously. “Good evening, gentlemen.”