35 - Kayden
~ 35 ~
KAYDEN
Things quieted down as the day progressed. Gone was the casual merriment of last night. Conversations that had been loud and braggadocious were quieter and more removed, or limited to small groups that kept to themselves.
And that’s because the arrival of Roman Wynter was growing imminent.
In the kitchen the stress was palpable, like a living breathing thing. Everything was in shambles, a total chaos, despite our best efforts. Bishop was in way over his head, but somehow still pulling things together. At one point, with a pan in each hand, I told him he could almost be an actual chef.
But I was worried. Jocelyn hadn’t shown up yet, and I’d sent for her a while ago. Maybe she was sleeping the afternoon off. If so, I couldn’t begrudge her. Or maybe it had something to do with the other thing that worried me even more: Andre had suddenly gone missing.
“Chef!”
The call came from a second server, tasked with carrying way too much stuff from the walk-in. Bishop whirled, which sort of amused me, then rushed to her aid. If we somehow managed to get out of this place, I knew he’d make me call him chef for the rest of our lives. And that was fine, so long as Jocelyn remained safe.
Jocelyn. Damn.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I needed to know.
“Take over for me,” I shouted to Bishop, dropping the six different things in my hand. “Be right back.”
He looked astonished. “Take over?”
“I won’t be long.”
Bishop swore furiously, and I dashed from the room before he could mount any further protest. It took all of my willpower not to sprint. Twice I was stopped by security. Both times, on the spot, I made something up. As the head chef, people tended to ignore you as a potential threat. They believed you when you mumbled something about a live lobster shipment, then pushed past them hurriedly as if the fate of their next meal depended upon it.
I cleared the steps two at a time and slipped unseen through the upper hallways. Standing before Jocelyn’s door I pulled out my master keycard, held it to the electronic lock, then rushed inside.
Her room was empty.
“Fuck.”
Not only was it empty, but she hadn’t slept or changed. The bed was turned over, and tonight’s server’s outfit still hung in the closet, freshly pressed, waiting to be worn.
“Missing your girlfriend?”
Few things startled me these days. But the unexpectedness of the voice behind me had me nearly jumping out of my skin.
“W—What?”
I whirled, and there was Evelyn, standing in the doorway. She walked forward, the door swung closed, and the lock engaged.
“I asked if you were missing your girlfriend?” she asked, innocently.
I forced a quick smile. It was a weak one, though.
“I mean, sure. I was looking for you earlier…”
“Not me,” she said sharply. “Her.”
Evelyn pointed into the room. My heart skipped a beat.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I protested.
“Oh no?” she refuted, her voice now pregnant with saccharine sweetness. “What are you doing here, then?”
“I came to find her,” I said, trying to sound angry. “We’re prepping for dinner right now, and Emily’s supposed to be helping.”
“Sure,” she reasoned. “And I didn’t catch you sneaking out of her room in the wee hours of the morning, either.”
My blood ran cold. Evelyn was staring back at me with those expectant blue eyes that had sized me up so many times since she’d gotten here. I’d toyed with her, and she knew it. And now the jig was up.
“That’s okay,” she suddenly shrugged. “I don’t mind a little competition.”
Or shit… maybe the jig wasn’t up.
“What’s that look?” she grinned wickedly. “Are you surprised?”
I shook my head. “No, I just—”
“It’s not like we’re making any promises to each other,” she cut me off. “This job is hard enough, rushing all over the world, floating in and out of people’s lives.” She looked at me and shrugged. “It would be almost stupid not to take your pleasures where you can…”
With that, Evelyn stepped forward and shoved me backwards, onto the bed. Still trying to acquiesce, I let myself fall. I hadn’t even hit the mattress and she was already on me, like a puma. My mind shifted into high gear, wondering what to do.
“I don’t care what you did last night,” she purred, climbing over me. “As long as it doesn’t affect what you do right now.”
She slid her body against mine, dragging her breasts against my chest. Eventually we were face to face, nose to nose. Her painted lips, just an inch away from mine, when she began to kiss me.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Evelyn laughed into my mouth. “I guarantee that whatever Emily did last night, I’m more than capable of—”
All at once I shoved her away, lifting her from me in a reverse push-up. I spun to one side and rolled her onto her back, pinning her wrists tightly beneath mine.
But rather than fight back, Evelyn only sighed and relaxed into the bed.
“Ah, so you want to do it this way?” she giggled. “I’m game. Not exactly what I’m used to, but when in Rome…”
She spread her legs for me. Before I knew what was happening, I was yanked between them.
“Evelyn, no.”
“No?” she cooed, grinding her pelvis upward. “Are you sure?”
I tried shoving myself upward, but she’d already hooked her ankles. Her arms slid over my shoulders as she pulled me down.
“Certain parts of your body aren’t saying no,” she teased, rolling her hips with a mischievous laugh. “In fact, I can feel them saying yes, yes, YES.”
I was riddled with guilt, worried about Andre, wracked with the anxiety of not knowing where Jocelyn was. In short, I’d had enough.
“Evelyn, STOP!”
It was an easy thing, tearing myself physically away from her. I leapt up from the bed so quickly one of her arms snapped back, and in doing so, she sort of punched herself in the face.
Evelyn’s nose turned red, her eyes quickly welling up with tears. But they weren’t tears of sorrow, or rejection, or anything that would let me off that easy. No, these were tears of anger. Anger bordering rage.
“Seriously, Kayden!?” she shouted, and I felt the urge to muffle her immediately. “You’re not into this? You’ve been flirting with me the whole time I’m here!”
“Evelyn—”
“Now that we’re finally alone, and we have an hour to kill, you suddenly can’t find your balls?”
She was seething. Sniffing. Rubbing at her nose.
“No. It’s not that.”
“Want me to find them, then?” she fumed, getting up from the bed. “Because I can show you where they should be.”
She approached me again, and this time her intentions were wholly different. I saw revenge in her eyes as her hand shot out, moving so fast it was a blur. The look in those eyes turned to surprise and alarm as I deftly caught it.
“Evelyn, stop!”
Her other hand came next. I caught that one too. Standing there, holding both wrists, I saw her expression grow darker. Her look of incredulity and betrayal had turned absolutely murderous.
“You BASTARD!”
She rocked back and drove forward with one leg, intending upon kneeing me square in the balls. Luckily, the move was overly-choreographed. I turned easily and she struck my leg instead, and together we twisted and fell to the hard wooden floor. Evelyn let out a yelp of pain, and I let her go. She rolled away from me, curled into a ball, and began sobbing.
“Look, you know as well as I do the people we work for are dangerous,” I reasoned. “They’re not going to tolerate this high school bullshit. They’ll cut our throats, throw us in the ocean, and never look back.”
Her body expanded and contracted, as she was wracked with sobs. I almost felt bad, but there wasn’t time for it.
“Raif’s furious at you for getting drunk last night,” I pressed. “The kitchen’s a wreck. Roman Wynter’s due to arrive at any moment; and you know damn well what happens when he gets here. You need to pull it together, and fast. We don’t have time for this shit.”
Abruptly, the sobbing stopped. Evelyn pushed herself back into a seated position and looked up at me. Long strands of raven-black hair masked her vengeful stare.
“ You’re the reason I got drunk last night,” she growled.
I couldn’t deny it. But I couldn’t admit it, either.
“Fine then,” Evelyn eventually spat. Moving slowly, she stood up and dusted herself off. “I had a feeling you were into that bitch,” she seethed. “I knew it the moment she got here.” She shook her head and growled. “Fuck. I’m such an idiot.”
She was still angry, but now it was more of an anger directed at herself. I didn’t know which was worse, to be honest.
“If the kitchen’s in shambles you’d better get your ass downstairs,” she barked, pointing at the floor. “Forget about looking for your girlfriend. You let me take care of that.”
The way she said that last part was ominous. Even more so, because she was suddenly smiling.
“Or maybe we don’t find her at all,” Evelyn shrugged. Her smile grew even more twisted. “That happens sometimes, you know?”