ALICIA
After the wedding, bookings at the restaurant explode and soon we’re having to turn customers away. I’ve never seen a turnout like it, and soon the phone is ringing off the hook with people from far and wide wanting to make dinner or lunch reservations.
I’m so rushed off my feet I don’t have a moment to consider anything else, and honestly, it’s a relief that I don’t see Ryan again for almost a week after we slept together.
What the hell was I thinking?
Getting involved with someone like Ryan Braddock is a BAD idea.
Not to mention I don’t even like the guy.
Sure, he’s incredibly hot -- I always thought he was attractive but getting to see his body up close and personal made me realize just how attractive he is.
And the things he did to my body? I’ve never had a man who made me feel like Ryan did, and that was after just a quickie. Imagine if we could take our time?
My focus drifts, and I picture a scene where Ryan and I are in a King-size bed together, not having to worry about work, or being caught, or anything like that.
We can just explore each other's bodies… I imagine the feel of his rock-hard abs as my fingertips trail down his chest, and then, the size of his cock in my hands. The perfect size to fill me up, but not so big that it’s painful.
And his lips? Oh my god. The way he kissed me made my stomach flip and my heart soar.
I imagine him trailing kisses down my neck …
to my breasts … then lower still until his head is between my legs.
I cross my legs and close my eyes to block out the thoughts. The middle of dinner service is not the time to be fantasizing about your boss.
I glance over at Antony, and I can now see all the differences between him and Ryan, that before were just subtleties.
While Antony is slightly taller, Ryan is stockier, and he has a touch of gray at his temples.
The brother’s eyes are the key difference though.
Ryan’s eyes are stormy blue-gray that can go from fierce and intimidating to passionate and arousing in a moment's notice. His gaze sets my body alight … and, oh shit, I’m thinking about him again?
My focus is pulled back to the dinner service when a server says the patron on table twenty has complained that the center of their filet mignon is cold.
I must have been so distracted by my thoughts about Ryan that I let a subpar dish get by. Feeling frustrated with myself, I storm over to our meat cook, Emmett, and give him my best Gordon Ramsey impression. “Is cold filet mignon acceptable?”
It’s unfair, I know. This is as much my fault as it is Emmett’s, but right now, I need to vent my frustration.
Emmett bows his head. “No chef.”
“Then why are you serving it to our guests? They deserve better.”
I practically shove Emmett aside and re-fire the filet mignon myself, and then, once it’s ready, take it out to the patron.
“My apologies for the state of your first steak,” I say, laying the plate in front of an older man whose attire screams ‘Wall Street Money.’ Everything from his fine suit to the Jaeger-LeCoultre watch on his wrist lets me know this is a VIP guest.
The man’s eyes rove over my body, and as he takes in my chef’s uniform, embroidered with my name, his eyes widen.
“Ah, so you’re the Chef Hughes I’ve heard so much about. A friend of mine was here for the Jones-Taylor wedding, and couldn’t stop raving about the food, so I had to come check it out. I must admit that steak left me disappointed --”
He pauses, cuts into the new steak I’ve prepared for him, and slips the piece into his mouth. He chews for a moment, and then a grin spreads across his face.
“Ah, much better,” he says finally.
“I prepared it myself,” I say, jutting out my chin proudly. “And told my usual meat chef I expect better. But I still wanted to come out here and offer my apologies. The first steak you were given is not the usual standard of the Braddock resort.”
“I can see that now,” the customer says, cutting off another piece of his steak, popping it into his mouth, and savouring it slowly. “And I appreciate you coming out to apologize.”
“I hope this misstep doesn’t affect your opinion of the resort, and as a way of apology, let me offer you a complimentary drink of your choice.”
“Will you join me?” the man asks, with a quirked brow and a slight smile.
I feel myself blush. What the hell was in that detox tea I brought off Jackie if it’s making rich and handsome men act like this around me? I should tell my sister she should be selling it as an aphrodisiac instead.
Smiling politely, I say, “I’m flattered, thank you, but I’m needed back in the kitchen for the rest of dinner service.”
The Wall Street hotshot smiles back. “Of course. Of course. Some other time perhaps?”
“Some other time,” I say, knowing he will have forgotten all about me in a couple of days.
As I’m walking back to the kitchen I bump into Ryan, who watches me curiously for a moment. “Everything okay with that customer out there?”
“Oh yeah, nothing to worry about. His steak was undercooked, so I prepared him a new one, and apologised. All good now,” I say, eager to be away from Ryan.
While the offer from the Wall Street guy was flattering, I knew it was just a customer being friendly, but there’s something in Ryan’s gaze I can’t explain -- it’s hungry and makes me remember my earlier fantasies.
“Alicia, wait,” Ryan calls just before I reach the door to the kitchen.
“I … erm …”
What’s this? Ryan Braddock does not stutter?
I turn back to him and raise my brows. “Yeah, what did you need?”
“When can you pop by my office to discuss expansion plans for the resort?”
Oh! I wasn’t expecting that. Why am I slightly disappointed? He only wants to talk business. But still, Ryan wants to discuss expansion plans with me, this is huge.
“I’ll have to check my schedule and let you know,” I reply, not wanting to seem too eager.
“Of course. of course,” Ryan says, sounding so much like the Wall Street guy from earlier. Really, what was in Jackie’s detox tea?
Without another word, I head back into the kitchen. Thankfully, ensuring the rest of service goes smoothly, and there’s no more issues, keeps my mind occupied, and my thoughts don’t drift to Ryan again until that night when I’m at home showering.
Alone under the hot spray of water, I can’t help imagining what could happen between us when I go to speak to him about the expansion…
It’s just a business meeting, Alicia, don’t get ahead of yourself, I try to remind myself, before thoughts of Ryan ravishing me on his desk fill my mind.
It’s no good though, I can’t help but remember the feel of Ryan’s dick filling me up or stop my hands from slipping between my legs as I mentally replay every moment of our encounter.
For the next couple of days, I find mine and Ryan’s schedules don’t line up, so I don’t get the chance to speak to him.
Which is probably a good thing. I can’t go in there to talk about business, while I’m imagining all the sinful things we could be doing to each other’s bodies.
I’ve been haunted by near nightly sex dreams about my boss and am finding it hard to focus on work.
This must stop.
Eventually, we’re both available at the same time, and too curious about his ideas for expansion to put it off any longer, I head up to Ryan’s office.
I spent so much time there preparing for the celebrity wedding that I enter without knocking and sit down on the leather seat opposite him, the nerves of our first meeting here together a distant memory.
“So, you’re thinking about expanding?” I ask as simply as if I’m asking about the weather.
Ryan smiles and steeples his fingers in front of him on the desk. “Yes. Word about the wedding has spread quickly and far.”
“I’ve noticed. The restaurant is busier than ever. We had to turn people away last night because they didn’t have reservations.”
“Exactly. That’s never happened before, even when my parents were still alive--”
An awkward silence fills the room. Ryan lost his mom and dad around the same time I lost my own, in similar tragic circumstances.
Five years ago, East Hampton had a huge problem with drunk drivers and hit and run accidents, the deaths of mine and Ryan’s parents being just a couple of the many tragedies that eventually led to the town’s councilman installing stricter dangerous driving laws and punishments for those who broke them.
It couldn’t bring my parents back, but it went a long way in making East Hampton a safer place for residents and tourists.
“It never gets any easier, does it?” I say with a small, sad and understanding smile.
“No, it doesn’t,” Ryan admits with a sad smile of his own.
Suddenly, I feel a burst of empathy and kinship to this man who lost his parents and has fought so hard to not only continue their legacy but ensure his brothers’ futures are secure.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, a voice in the back of my mind says. Just because you share that one experience, and you slept together once doesn’t mean you’re soul mates or something stupid like that.
I focus on business. That’s what’s important, and knowing that, I also know I can’t get romantically involved with Ryan.
What would people think? They’d assume he’d given me some advantage because we were sleeping together.
And then what if things go wrong and he fired me because of it? I can’t afford to lose my job
“So, bookings are up and you want to expand?” I say, nudging the conversation back in the right direction.
Ryan blinks for a moment, then refocuses his gaze on mine. “That’s right. I want to open a second restaurant on the other side of the resort, closer to the beach. I want different menus, maybe even a more casual, laid-back feel, to give customers a choice. What do you think?”
I take my time responding. He hasn’t exactly offered me the position as head chef, he just wants to know if the new restaurant is a good idea. Figuring it’s best to play it safe, I say, “What does Antony think?”
Again, Ryan looks shocked, and shakes his head. “I haven’t spoken to him about it yet. I should really, you’re right. I’ll get his input and we can come up with some ideas. Thank you, Alicia. You can go now.”
The dismissal is clear, and it stings. Did I read this whole situation wrong, or does Ryan just really not value my opinion?
Forcing my face to adopt a neutral expression, I rise from my seat and leave his office without another word.
I curse myself for thinking this meeting would be any different. It’s Ryan Braddock, who am I kidding? He’s got his head so far up his own ass he can’t see anything else!
And to think I was fantasizing about him fucking me on his desk? Damn, I must be crazy.
Crazy is certainly the word for it, because as I re-enter the kitchen, all I feel is disappointment. Disappointment that Ryan doesn’t want me to manage his new restaurant, and more worryingly, disappointment that he didn’t even hint about our night together. Has he forgotten about me so quickly?
I push the thought out of my head. Haven’t I already decided, getting involved with Ryan is not worth losing my job over, and his quick dismissal of me made it clear, if push comes to shove, he wouldn’t care about casting me aside.
Damn him, and damn me too for even thinking there would have been something more there.