Chapter 4 #2
He closes his eyes while chuckling, and I notice how long his lashes are. “I can’t make any promises. I love a challenge, and, now that I know you’re here every day, making you laugh might be my new personal mission.”
His saying that shouldn’t make a warm feeling spread in my chest, but it does.
But then that warm feeling sinks to the pit of my stomach.
I’m queasy.
Nervous.
Felix smiles, and I chuckle, trying to stay normal, but that sick feeling consumes me.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
My throat feels dry, and I start coughing.
Don’t open up. That’s how it starts.
My grip tightens.
He pats me on the back, and I startle.
His hand is on me. Too close.
I scrub my face to shake the feeling off.
My pulse pounds in my ears.
Then I’m calm. Too calm.
I need to leave. Now. “Sorry, we gotta head out. Need to open the shop.” I take Gabe’s hand in mine. “Let’s roll.”
I bolt for the exit and hear Felix say, “Hey! Wait—”
My bike is so close. I just need to get to it and drive away.
Please don’t follow me, Felix.
Felix
The man with dark hair and even darker circles under his eyes runs for the doors, and he and his friend make a beeline to a motorcycle parked out front.
What the hell was that?
I’m flummoxed. One moment, we’re flirting and laughing, and the next, he’s running out the door.
I make grown men run for the exit—exactly the ego boost I needed.
My heart sinks, because we had so much chemistry. There was a connection between us–this link that pulled me closer to him.
And Torren wanted me. I could see it in his eyes. He looked at me like he saw me—like I mattered.
Now that Mother’s gone, I have…
Nobody.
I’ve spent so many months in a fog of despair, and talking to him pulled me out of it.
A cold chill envelops me as I watch him trying over and over to get his motorcycle started. It’s stalling, and his frustration grows with each failed attempt.
I’m shivering, teeth chattering, as I watch his frenzy when I hear someone whisper, “Go to him.”
I jump, nearly tumbling to the floor as I whip around, trying to find who said that. They have to be close; it felt like the words were whispered right in my ear, but there’s nobody nearby. Even the lady who waited on me is at the other end of the bar serving customers.
Wait. The cold. The voice…
“Mother?” I slap my hand over my mouth. This is crazy. I must be losing my mind, because this can’t be happening.
I hear Torren scream obscenities at his motorcycle. The bike won’t start, and it feels karmic—like the universe is preventing him from leaving.
My feet move on instinct, running along the white and red checkered floor to catch him before he leaves. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but it feels correct—like not doing this will haunt me forever.
“You want your order to go?” the woman who waited on me calls out.
“Yes!” I reply, then change my mind. “No! Uhh… I’ll be right back.”
The glass door rings as I fling it open and run to the man. His helmet-clad head swivels my way, and another string of obscenities leaves his mouth.
“Wait!” I call out.
I close the distance between us, and he pulls off his helmet, eyes blazing, and screams, “Stay back!”
I stop dead in my tracks.
He points at me. “Go back to the diner. Now.”
I can’t. My feet won’t move.
His black hair blows in the breeze, and the sun shimmers off his skin, making him look golden. He’s weathered in the most perfect way. The wrinkles in the skin around his eyes and his scruff make me tingle all over, and that leather jacket looks almost obscene on his perfect body.
I realize I’m staring at him, then shake my head, freeing myself from my trance. “W-what happened? I thought we were—”
“I know who the fuck you are, and who your piece of shit father is.”
My voice gets caught in my throat. I didn’t think about people recognizing me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “Scoping the rubble so you can report back to daddy how fucked up we all are because of him?”
His words hit like a gut punch. He knows who I am; that’s why he ran. I’d hate me, too, if I lived here. My father is an asshole, and I respect this man’s ire to be completely honest.
“I’m not my father,” I finally reply. “I don’t agree—”
He grabs me by the collar and pulls me close, but something in him falters. Our eyes lock, and he loosens his grip.
He closes his eyes. When they reopen, the anger is back. “Listen to me, rich boy.” His breath heats my skin like fire, and the smell of cigarettes and leather wafting off him is delicious. He’s so angry and mean and…
Real.
There are no walls, no facades that stand between us. Just pure, unadulterated heat, and I feel like I’m floating.
My hands wrap around his wrist, not to push him away, but to keep them there. The more his jaw clenches, and his fingers grip my shirt, the more I wish he would just rip the goddamn thing right off my body.
He looks at me, his resolve weakening. I can see the flame of desire in his eyes, and I want it.
Need it.
But he shakes it off and barks, “Do you see this place? Do you see the people in there? That’s what your father did.
Maggie’s Diner is the only place to eat here because nobody wants to open a business in the shitty part of Belmont.
Your father made us invisible over here in this fucking hellhole, so just stay away or else. ”
“Or else what?” I gasp, completely shocked, the words just left my mouth, but, damn, it felt good to say them!
For months, I’ve been bossed around by my father, his staff, and a team of psychiatrists.
Enough is enough! Talking back to this man is reigniting a fire inside me that I thought went out forever.
“Who do you think you are? My daddy?” His eyes widen, and a deep, low growl rumbles in his chest.
My whole body ignites, watching this man seethe.
I lower my voice, uttering my words in a slow, sultry tone. “You like bossing boys like me around, huh?”
His eyes roll back, and it’s honestly the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It’s like he’s losing all control, and I’m loving it.
But then he takes a deep breath, and the rabid look in his eyes vanishes. He rips his arms from my grasp, then pushes me away. “Stay on your side of town if you know what’s good for you.” His eyes are like daggers. It’s a threat, and once again, my body betrays me, the blood rushing to my center.
He successfully starts his motorcycle and speeds off, with Gabe sitting behind him, and I watch him drive off.
What just happened?
And why did I like it?
It’s one thing to vibe with someone. Getting sprung when they chew you out in front of a diner? That’s bizarre.
I turn toward the diner in a daze, my mind still trying to understand what just happened, and take in the restaurant. I didn’t really look at it before; I was in such a stupor when I arrived.
Maggie’s Diner. Cute.
It really is cute. In need of an upgrade, but really warm and homey.
It feels nice being here. I pass a HELP WANTED sign as I walk through the entrance, and the woman who initially took my order is staring at me with concern.
The nametag over her left breast reads Maggie, and it dawns on me that she must be the owner.
“What was that about?” Maggie asks as I take a seat.
“Huh? Oh, um…” The interaction with my hot devil still has me tongue-tied when an idea pops into my head. “Does he come here a lot?” I ask.
“Who? The one who nearly wrung your neck outside? Yeah, almost every day.”
Perfect. “Can I apply for a job here?”
She says nothing, but her eyes are wide. I mean wide. “You wanna work here?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Ever wait tables before?”
Guess this is the job interview. “No…”
“Ever do anything in customer service?” she asks.
“Not exactly.” I don’t think this could be going any worse.
She rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip. “Jesus, give me something here, kid. Can you at least start soon?”
Okay, I do have a positive answer for that one. “I can start right now if you want.”
Her eyes look like they might pop out of her head. “You’re hired. Come ‘round back, and I’ll give you a hat and an apron.”
I look down to make sure my mouth isn’t lying on the floor. “Really? Thank you!”
“No, no, don’t thank me until you’ve had a full day here. Today is a trial run. If I like what you do, your first official day is tomorrow.”
She says all this as she motions for me to meet her at the end of the bar, handing me an apron and a uniform. The apron is red, and the hat is white; both say “Maggie’s Diner.”
I tie on the apron and put on the oversized cap.
Once they’re on, she motions for me to take a spin.
I do, and she raises a brow. “Not bad, hon. This might be good for business: dump the old broads and start hiring young studs like yourself. Look alive, you’re gonna be my shadow until noon, then I’m throwing you to the wolves.
Otherwise known as lunch hour.” She hands me a pad and a pencil.
“Just look over my shoulder, I’ll teach you restaurant shorthand so you can jot down orders quickly.
These goons order rapid fire and ask too many questions, considering they’re eating at a damn diner. ”
I nod frantically, not because I’m nervous, but out of sheer excitement. I’ve never worked before, and this doesn’t feel like a job. This feels like something else, a new chapter. I’m breaking free. Everything about this place is real, and I’ll get to see him when he comes.
I really hope I get this job so I can see the look on his face when he sees me working here.