Chapter 6
Felix
The next day
The mansion is dark. I slink down the stairs, holding my shoes, trying my best not to let the wood creak beneath my feet as I head to Maggie’s Diner for my first official day.
I can’t let my father know what I’m doing, and I need to be careful not to let any of his aides catch wind of my new job.
If Father finds out I’m working at a diner in the Patch, he’ll have me committed.
He’d rather I hide in my bedroom than stoop so low as to be a server.
I’d rather be a server than a lying, two-faced politician.
The apron and cap I need to wear are safely concealed in my backpack beneath a Gucci cardigan.
And if you think the Gucci cardigan is gay, you should have seen what I did with half the rugby team the first time I tried molly.
There are also several books shoved in there to serve as an alibi should anyone stop me. I’ll just say I’m going to the library or cafe to get a head start on studying for next year’s coursework.
I’m not going back to Cornell, but nobody needs to know that just yet. Maybe if I work at Maggie’s for a bit, I can save up some money and move out. That’s all I want—to free myself from my father’s orbit.
This is so much more than a job; it’s the first step on the road to independence. It’s the first time in my life I can see beyond the gilded cage rather than kicking at the bars.
Plus, I have another mission to accomplish.
I want to see Torren again. Last night was the first night since Mother died that I didn’t dream about her.
I dreamt of him—his strong, calloused hands wrapped around my throat, giving me just enough air to live but not enough to stop struggling while he pushed his cock deep inside me.
My brain is a whirlwind of confusion. Talking to Torren felt wonderful. Effortless. We bantered—I made him laugh.
He has a nice laugh.
Then, he turned into such a prick.
And I loved it.
Do I have a fear fetish, or is it the combination of attraction mixed with the carnal intensity of his anger?
The human mind is wild.
I don’t know why, but I want Torren, and I’m going to find a way to make him mine.
It’s 6 AM, so I hop on my bike to make my 6:30 AM shift. I’ll be early, but that’s good for my first official day, right?
I ride a bike because I care about the environment and because it pisses off my father.
It’s another thing I do that embarrasses him.
So, naturally, I ride it as much as possible.
One can instantly see the shift when they cross the train tracks and enter the Patch.
The streets become bumpy, and the homes are weathered from lack of upkeep.
Some of the buildings are condemned, while others should be.
There’s something decrepit and grey about the entire area, as if I had left Technicolor and emerged in a black and white film—a reversed Wizard of Oz.
Guilt twists in my stomach, knowing that my father played a part in the Patch’s demise.
It didn’t start with him; it takes years to crush the spirit of an entire neighborhood, but he certainly sped things along.
The neon light of Maggie’s Diner comes into view. It’s quarter past 6, and the place already has a few patrons. But I see Maggie standing outside the restaurant, having a cigarette.
My bike rolls up to the rack, and she calls out, “Better take that thing ‘round back and park it in the storage room. Some asshole will steal your wheels when you’re not looking.”
I look down at the bike, then back up at her. “In broad daylight?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“Aren’t they worried about getting caught?” I add.
“Nope.”
Well, that’s that, I guess.
“I’ll meet you back there and let you in,” she calls out while tossing her cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with her foot.
I nod and follow her orders. As I turn into the back alley behind the diner, I see a man camped out next to the dumpster. I hop off my bike and cautiously roll past him.
“Got a dollar?” he asks.
“Leave him be, Ted.” Maggie’s voice startles me, and I gasp too loudly not to be embarrassed. “He works here now. Can’t ask him for change if he’s gonna be here most days. Keep it to the customers.”
Ted puts up his hands in a placating manner, and Maggie motions her head for me to enter the back entrance.
“Don’t mind Ted. He’s harmless, and I give him food when he asks.
Not money, though. Don’t give him money.
” She leads me to the storage room, instructs me to put my bike in there, then adds, “Well, get your apron on and get that ass movin’. ”
She shuffles off, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Her whole energy is off-putting yet endearing, and I really like it.
I do as she says and make my way to the dining room. I’m the first server here besides Maggie, so the place is all mine until my co-worker, Gilda, gets here. Then I’m assigned to section 2 for the rest of my shift.
Nerves percolate in the base of my stomach as I scan the area. I did this yesterday, but it’s official now.
Don’t fuck it up, Felix.
And for the most part, I don’t! It’s not crowded, and I develop a rhythm as time passes by. People are gruff, but it’s early, so I don’t take offense. I only mess up one order, which isn’t terrible for someone’s first official day. I think I’m getting the hang of this!
I work the whole morning, waiting for Torren to arrive, but he never shows.
Just after 1 PM, Maggie comes out from the back with her hands on her hips. “Well, kid. You did it. I didn’t think Hargrove’s kid had it in him to do some real work, but you proved me wrong!”
I shift on my feet, nervous that I’m being exposed. “Did you know who I was when you hired me?”
“Of course! I read the fuckin’ papers. I’ll tell ya, the hat and apron are a wonderful disguise. You look like just another goofy kid from the patch.”
I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere.
“I’ll keep you on the morning shift for the rest of the week. Work for you?”
Yes! If I stay on the morning shift, I’ll have a better chance of seeing him. “Absolutely.”
Maggie pats me on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow, kid.”
Hopefully, he’ll show up tomorrow, too.
Wednesday
It’s just after 8 AM, and Gilda’s here. Things are flowing when Maggie flags me down, motioning for me to meet her at the bar, and asks, “We got a shipment out back that I need to sign for. Hang out at the counter and work at the cash register when needed. I’ll have Gilda check on your tables while I make sure they didn’t stiff me on supplies again. ”
Cash register. Maggie showed me how to do that. I can do this. “Absolutely,” I reply with maybe a bit too much gusto.
“Your enthusiasm is sweet, kid. We’ll see how long it lasts.” She walks through the double doors leading to the kitchen, and I take my spot at the bar.
The jingle of the front entrance pulls my attention toward it.
There he is.
The entire energy of the place shifts when he arrives—like the air becomes electric.
Torren struts into the restaurant like a cocky son of a bitch, head held high, and his black leather jacket hugging his arms in all the right ways. When he looks my way, he stops dead in his tracks.
“What the hell are you doing back there?”
Fuck me.
Literally, fuck me. Hard.
“I work here now,” I say with a sly grin.
“The fuck you do!” he yells out for the whole place to hear. “Where’s Maggie?”
He stands there, fists clenched, with a scowl on his face, and all I can think is how hot he is when he’s angry.
“She’s in the back. I started working here y—”
“I don’t give a damn when you started; I want you fired. Now. Go get Maggie!”
Patrons mumble under their breath. I look around and see them pointing to Torren, unintelligible whispers accompanying their shocked glances.
I’m equal parts aroused and irritated. He’s screaming at me in front of everyone.
It’s one thing to have insane sexual tension, but it’s another to make a spectacle out of disrespecting me at work.
He’s going to set the precedent that everyone at the diner can treat me like dirt, and that is not what I want.
I take a deep breath and rest my hands on the counter. “No.”
Torren scoffs, and his eyes blink at me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. If you want to order a meal, then you can sit your hot ass down in a chair and order something politely.” My smirk is top-tier brat because I want to be playful. He needs to cool it, but I also want him to tear off my clothes and fuck me doggy style someday.
His eyes narrow at me, but then his face twists into a devilish grin. “I think I’d rather you sit your hot ass down on my face.”
He slaps his hand over his mouth, eyes bulging. I can tell that slipped out of him, because he’s flabbergasted.
“That can be arranged, stud, but I’m at work now. Maybe later?” I say with a shrug of my shoulder, feigning a demure demeanor.
Big, tall, and fearsome closes his eyes and inhales. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, Gabe.”
Torren makes a beeline for the door, with Gabe hot on his trail. They speed off, and I’m left standing there watching the motorcycle race down the road.
Second encounter? Could have gone better.
Still really hot, though.
Thursday
I’m swamped today. Gilda told me that Thursday mornings are super busy, and she was not kidding. I’m running around, trying my best to keep up with my tables, when I see Torren and Gabe enter.
Torren’s gaze falls on me, and he sneers.
So hot.
I’d do anything to go over and seat them, but I’m in the middle of jotting down orders.
Gilda gets there first and shows them to the bar. I see her slide the donuts and coffee in front of them, and I mentally pout to myself.
I finish writing down the orders and make my way to the kitchen to drop it off.
When I return to the floor, I see a customer holding up his mug, so I run to grab the coffee carafe.
I can see Torren in the reflection of the metal coffee machine, and he’s staring at me.
At my butt, to be precise.