Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Sam
“ A nd then we’ll do the scallop course, paired with the Krug Clos,” Fran is saying, gesturing to the artfully plated dishes of seafood, vegetables, and sauce Dom sets in front of the wedding couple.
The two smile up at him, eyes wide with delight.
This tasting has gone a lot smoother than I expected. Often, when you get people who are spending the kind of money these two are, they come with a lot of expectations and demands.
Not this couple.
They’ve been nothing but polite and gracious throughout the whole process. They have requests, sure, but they are happy to let Dom and his crew work their magic in the kitchen.
I’ve sat through enough tastings with picky couples, or worse, picky parents of young couples, to appreciate these two smiling faces.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slip it out enough to peek at the screen, already anticipating what I'm going to find.
But she surprises me. It’s not a text, it’s an image.
I used a how-to on the internet to change my phone settings so message previews don’t show on my lock screen anymore, so I can’t see what the picture is, but I can imagine.
After that racy pic she sent me in my office this morning, I’ve been wondering when she’ll send me another.
I’m in deep, deep shit with this girl.
Because there’s no way I’m going to walk away.
I push my chair back silently and make my way to the bar where a water pitcher is set up with crystal tumblers for palate cleansing between courses. I pour myself a small glass and take a sip while I try to nonchalantly slide my phone back out of my pocket.
It slips from my fingers and crashes to the wood floor, making the whole table jump and look my way. I bow my head and retrieve the offending device, holding it up sheepishly.
“Sorry about that.”
They all turn back to the tasting except Fran, who keeps me pinned with her knowing glare.
I’m not sure what, or how much, she knows, but she’s onto something. She heard too much in the lobby that night when Naomi blurted out about the video. She’s too smart to let something like that go.
I hold her gaze for a moment before casually glancing down at my phone screen as if I wasn’t breaking out in a cold sweat under her glare.
I flip through a few emails, scrolling until I feel her turn back to the table. Checking just to be sure, I find her once again engaged with the wedding couple.
I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do, but I’m doing it anyway.
I click to open the message and hold my breath.
It’s Naomi, topless again, in front of the mirror. The sun is coming in at a sharp angle, casting her body in sepia stripes as she holds her fingers up against the glare. Her face is angled so I can’t see most of it. To most casual onlookers, this could really be anyone, but that doesn’t make me feel any safer about holding it in my hands right now. I’d know those curves anywhere. The soft swell of her breasts. The line of four freckles running from her left collarbone up toward her ear that I ran my tongue across while she moaned in my arms.
I’m sure the guilt of it is written right across my face.
I glance from the gorgeous, erotic, image of the woman who’s been on my mind nonstop for the last few weeks up to the table where her brother is sitting.
And back down at my phone.
I let out the breath I’m holding as slowly and quietly as I can, shifting so that I’m facing the bar. It’s dangerous to angle the screen so anyone from the table could come up behind me and see, but I can’t very well stand facing them with my cock swelling in my pants.
I click the screen off and set the phone on the bar, taking another long drink of water. I have to get back to the table but all I want to do is run to the elevator.
After a moment, I gather myself enough to return to my seat.
“Sorry,” I say to the guests. “Employee emergency.”
The bride smiles warmly at me. “You must be very busy running the whole resort.”
I return her smile, slipping my phone back in my pocket. “I have plenty of help.”
It buzzes immediately, and I try to keep my face calm.
Fran’s hand lands on my arm, but I don’t dare look over at her. “Sam’s just being modest. He’s the only one who can properly satisfy the guests.”
My mouth opens slightly in shock, but I force it to morph into a smile. “Thanks, Fran.”
My phone buzzes again in my pocket .
I’m not sure if Fran can hear it or if she’s just trying to give me a hard time, because she doesn’t let up.
“There’s only a couple courses left, Sam. We can probably finish up here if you need to take care of something.”
I offer her my best GM smile. “It’s nothing that can’t wait.”
Dom sets out a new round of dishes and everyone’s attention shifts. I use the distraction to slip my phone out and open the message screen, carefully angling it away from Fran, who is sitting awfully close to me all of a sudden.
Naomi: Moving day.
Naomi: I have exactly one hour left in this private room. I wonder what I’ll do with my last bit of freedom.
An image comes through as I’m reading the last message and I cough in surprise, once again drawing the suspicious eyes of the woman next to me.
“On second thought, I think I have to go take care of this,” I say, starting to rise.
“Employees getting out of hand?” Fran asks.
“They’re just?—”
“Needy?” Fran adds before I’m able to voice my lame excuse.
I offer her a tight-lipped smile as I push my chair in.
“Enjoy the rest of the tasting. We’ll talk soon about guest check-in times, okay?” I say to the couple, who smile and nod.
I nearly collide with Dom as he’s approaching the table with two new plates in hand. “Leaving?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, backing away from the table, motioning with my phone. “I have to go deal with something. Employee stuff.”
He raises his eyebrows but says nothing.
I keep backing away until I hit the doorway to the hall that leads back to the lobby, then I spin and make my escape.
I’m sweating.
My heart is racing.
Since when do I get the third degree every time I need to leave a room?
It’s only then that my rational brain takes back over and offers me the sad truth.
It’s probably all in my head.
Dom didn’t say anything about me leaving.
Fran didn’t call me out about Naomi.
My guilty conscience is blowing the whole thing out of proportion.
I’ve got to get it together.
But I don’t know how.
I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never done anything bad in my life. I’ve never lied to anyone, let alone my closest friends.
It’s only a matter of time before I fuck this all up.
It’s gotta end.
I repeat the phrase over and over in my mind as I climb the stairs to the second floor and approach Naomi’s room, glancing over my shoulder every other second to make sure I’m not being followed.
By the time I knock, I’m determined.
I’m going to end it.