A Special Obsession

by A. M. Hargrove

  “Send him away. I don’t have time.” Nodding my head to the orders hanging behind me, I continue making burgers. And I make a mean burger. Then I skip to the fryer and throw in some freshly cut potatoes—no frozen ones here.

  “I told him you were busy. He said he’ll stay as long as it takes.”

  Dragging my sleeve across my forehead, I tell her, “Then tell him he’ll be waiting till after one.”

  In a low voice, she says, “It’s him.”

  “Huh?” I can’t hear her over the noise of the grill and fryer.

  “Him. That guy from the other night.”

  Lifting my palms, I spread my hands wide, saying, “That means nothing to me. We get all kinds of hims in here, Josie.” She pants after every guy who’s between the ages of twenty-two and forty.

  “You don’t remember? He passed out over in the corner booth last Saturday.”

  Shit. Yes, I remember. How could I forget? And he’s come back asking for me.

  “Oh, right. Him. Tell him I’m busy.” But the truth is, I have thought about him. A lot. More than I’ve thought about any man. It’s the contradiction of him that intrigues me. In some ways we’re similar. Rough around the edges, inked and wild. But he’s also refined and a rich brat—two people blended into one, and it doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve gotten good at reading people. It’s become a requirement, not only as a business owner, but because of Cody. But Weston Wyndham is a mystery. Intriguing to be sure and wicked hot, but that makes him dangerous and off-limits.

  “So, then, is he fair game?”

  Josie and her damn conquests.

  “Go for it.”

  She practically skips out of the kitchen, if one can skip wearing those kinds of shoes.

  The night flies as orders keep coming and the noise from the bar indicates the crowd is thick. Jeb shows up a time or two to give me a thumbs-up for the front. “Everything’s good, Spesh. But look at you back here, looks like Josie and the others aren’t the only ones who need a hand.”

  “You’re preaching.” Stepping back, I guzzle the bottle of water he hands me.

  “I think I may know someone for the kitchen. And she’s reliable.”

  “What the hell, Jeb. Why’ve you been holding out?”

  He holds out his hands, chuckling. “Whoa, there. She just left a job because the place closed, so it wasn’t like she was available.”

  “I’ll give you a pass then.” I wink at him.

  “If you want, I’ll have her come in on Monday.”

  “If I want? Are you crazy?”

  He laughs as he walks out. This could be the break I’ve been looking for. It would help me out so damn much, I actually feel giddy. Until Jeb comes back in and says, “I forgot to mention. That guy from the other night is here.”

  After I put on a couple of chicken breasts to cook, I say, “Yeah, I gave Josie permission to go after him.”

  Jeb shakes his head. “He must not have been interested because he’s sitting at the bar. Alone. Drinking water.”

  “That a fact?” I try to act uninterested, but I’ve gotta say, I am.

  “Yep. I told him you wouldn’t be free until one or later.”

  “And?”

  “Said he’d wait.”

  “Great. And what the hell do I do with that?”

  Jeb laughs. “Hey, you could do a lot worse, you know. The guy’s loaded.”

  “How do you know? What if he stole that watch and black AMEX?”

  “Ah, come on, Spesh. You know if he did he wouldn’t still be using it.”

  He’s right. And from the things he said, I know he comes from money. I let out a hearty laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Jeb asks.

  “That dude went to etiquette school and took dance lessons.”

  “No doubt. Do you know who he is?”

  “Yeah, some guy named Weston something or other.”

  “Spesh, you really need to pay closer attention to what’s going on in this city of yours. Have you ever heard of Wyndham and Sons?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “You know all those fancy buildings downtown, the hotels and skyscrapers?”

  “Yeah, who doesn’t?”

  Jeb acts pleased with himself, like he’s solved the mystery of Stonehenge. “Those buildings all have one thing in common. They were designed and built by Wyndham and Sons, the largest architectural and construction firm in the world. Your friend who’s sitting at the bar is the fifth in line in the Wyndham family and the second in line to the Wyndham fortune.” He stands there wearing a smug smile for being able to impart this piece of information.

  “And how the hell do you know this?”

  “When I left you last Saturday, I went home and googled him. He’s all over the internet. Look him up yourself.”

  “That would explain the Ferrari then.”

  “He drives a Ferrari?” Jeb asks, instantly salivating.

  “Uh-huh,” I answer absently, plating up a burger and some fries. What does a guy like that want with a girl like me? He could have anyone in the world with that kind of money.

  “Why the frown? And I think I smell something burning.”

  “Oh, shit,” I yell, running to the grill. Sure enough, my chicken breasts are charred. “Dammit.”

  Jeb wears a sheepish look. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone so you won’t ruin anything else. But, Spesh, that guy isn’t going anywhere. Trust me.”

  He leaves me to my food and thoughts, which don’t help much. Chicken sandwich a la pimento cheese with a little Weston Wyndham mixed in sounds pretty damn tasty to me. I lick my lips at the thought because the man makes my mouth water. Maybe I should change the name of that on the menu to the WestonChickWych in his honor. I kinda like the sound of that.

  After the kitchen closes, I start cleaning up. Everything is finished, with the exception of wiping down the surfaces. Those can be cleaned before I leave, so I head out from the back to where he’s waiting.

  The dark figure of a man sits alone at the bar, just as Jeb said. An empty water bottle is in front of him. He stares at me as I walk through the door. A lazy grin spreads across his face, and without intending to, the corners of my mouth turn up in response. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt again. The top of his hair is pulled into a ponytail, exposing one shaved side. He wears edgy well. On one wrist is that expensive watch, but on the other is a wide black leather cuff—a dichotomy that intrigues me. As I get close, he stands.

  “Hi,” he says, holding out his hand.

  This is strange, but I offer him mine and he takes it. “Hi, yourself. You’ve been waiting a long time. Does your head feel better?” After a long minute, he releases my hand and I miss the warmth of his.

  “Yeah, it does.” He flashes a toothy grin and it almost buckles my knees. “You have quite a busy place here.” His voice is velvet wrapped around sandpaper. It matches the rest of him, refined but with a touch of coarseness that makes him perfect. I want him to keep talking just so I can keep listening.

  “It’s not fancy, but it’s mine.”

  “I think it’s great. To be honest, I don’t remember much from my first visit.”

  “Really? I wonder why.”

  He rubs his chin. “Yeah.” Then he grabs the empty bottle and says, “But I’m perfectly sober tonight.”

  “I can see that.” I clasp my hands behind my back. This is getting weird. Is this where I’m supposed to say something cute and witty? I’m terrible at this kind of thing. I’m not a flirt nor do I date. Guys are way off my grid and my walls are high. That’s not to say I’m into girls. I just don’t have time, and because of the situation with Cody, the risk is too great.

  Even so, his gunmetal irises won’t let mine go. The silver streaks radiating from his pupils have me almost taking a step closer. “We got off to a bad start. I pretty much acted like an overindulged kid, so I thought I’d come in and try to make amends. I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime.
”

  “Oh. No. I can’t.” Fiddling with my apron, I go on. “I’m really busy. I work every day. The only day I have free is Sunday, and I always spend it with my grandmother.”

  “What about Sunday night then?”

  Looking around the room, I check to see if anyone is listening. The only one who knows about Cody is Jeb. He knows not to breathe a word to anyone. “No, that won’t work.”

  “It’ll do you good to take a break from your routine.”

  Yes, it would, but my time is pretty limited as it is, and you would be a huge distraction. I’m not your typical fuck buddy kind of girl. And there are other issues at stake.

  “It’s not possible.”

  “Can I have your number at least? Your cell and not the bar.” He seems harmless enough. With a family like his, how dangerous could he be? Plus, he already knows where I live. If he wanted to hurt or kill me, he would’ve done it already.

  “Only if you give me yours in return. In case of—” In case of what exactly?

  “Sure, hand me your phone.”

  I do and he texts himself from my phone. Then he says, “We’re good.”

  “I really should get back to work. I need to clean up back there.” I gesture toward the kitchen with my thumb.

  His smile lights up the dim interior of the bar and my bones nearly melt. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Don’t work too hard, Spike.” I open my mouth to form some kind of smart-ass reply, but he turns and walks away, giving me a healthy dose of his ass in those jeans. My usual snarky comebacks fly away, and all that are left are grab it, squeeze it, and bite it.

  “Close your mouth, Spesh. A bug’s gonna fly in it if you don’t.” Jeb’s chuckle rings in my ear as he walks by.

  My jaws clank together. He even smelled good too. Spicy. Aw, fuck. In return, I’m sure he got nothing but a strong whiff of fish and chips and pickles. Fuck my life.

  I tackle the kitchen with a vengeance, taking out my frustrations in the form of cleaning. When I get home, it’s three a.m. A quick shower washes away the smells of the fryer. I keep wondering why in the world he’d want to hang out with a girl like me. Exhaustion wins over and the next thing I know, the sun is streaming through my blinds. It’s almost noon. Damn, it’s late.

  My phone buzzing like a damn beehive wakes me up. It can’t be Mimi. She knows not to bother me, unless— oh, shit!

  Grabbing my cell, I answer, “Mimi, is everything okay?”

  A gritty, drawling tone greets me. “Good morning, Special. Sorry this isn’t Mimi. It’s Weston.”

  Oh, thank God it’s not Mimi.

  “Special, you there?” His gruff voice sends a series of shivers racing down my spine. What’s up with that?

  “Um, yeah, sorry.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  A sigh of relief sneaks out of me. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I usually sleep late on Sundays since the bar is open so late on Fridays and Saturdays.”

  “Oh, sorry. I should let you go then.”

  “No,” I quickly say. “I’m awake now.” I don’t tell him it’s because he scared the crap out of me. “I’m usually up by noon anyway. I’m surprised I slept this late.” And I am.

  “I was thinking. I know you spend the day with your grandmother. Maybe she’d like to go to brunch somewhere?”

  “Oh, I, well, she is sort of the country type. It’s very thoughtful of you, but I don’t think that would work.”

  “Hmm. Then how about we meet tonight for dinner?”

  Jeez, he doesn’t give up easily.

  Before I can reply, he adds, “I’m really not a bad guy. I promise. I know our first meeting didn’t leave a very good impression, but I’m not a drunk.”

  “You are spoiled though.”

  “I’ll admit to being raised with the finer things in life, and I may appear spoiled to you, but I’m not really.”

  “Answer me something.” And this is important to me.

  “Ask away.”

  “Why me?”

  “Good question. After I left you last Sunday, I started thinking. You didn’t know a damn thing about me, other than I had a black American Express card and wore an expensive watch. I didn’t even have my driver’s license on me. It was in my car, which was stupid, I know. You did something admirable for me that most people wouldn’t have. And I didn’t behave very well. I’d like to show you my appreciation, but I’d also like a chance to start over. Will you give that to me?”

  7

  Special

  When he puts it like that, I’m answering, “Yes,” before I know it. I just broke Rule Number One: Don’t let anyone in. Shit. My walls are there for a reason and what the hell did I do?

  “So, tonight then?” he asks.

  “Whoa. Just because I said yes, doesn’t mean you have to go all racehorse on me and shoot right out of the gate.”

  “So, when then? I can be a patient guy.”

  “Sure doesn’t sound like it.”

  “Okay. You had a question for me. May I ask one in return, Special?”

  “Uh, sure.” I’m on shaky ground here, but what else can I say? No? Then I’d sound like a bitch.

  “What do you like to do for fun?”

  “Ha!” I blurt before thinking. Massaging the base of my skull, where a knot the size of an egg is forming, I add, “Fun isn’t part of my life. I don’t have time for it.”

  “Maybe I can help change that.”

  How? I want to ask. Only I know what he’s thinking. A quick roll in the sack and he imagines I’ll be a happy woman again. Ain’t gonna happen.

  “If you think you’re gonna make me another notch in your belt, then maybe we’d better—”

  A raspy chuckle stops me from saying anything else.

  “Another notch in my belt? What decade are you living in?” He’s still laughing at me. He’s right. That’s a phrase Mimi uses all the time. Jeez, I sound like my grandmother. Other than work, I don’t get out much. There’s a good reason for that and his name is Cody. Then I think about Sasha and ever since … she was my only close girl friend. My bestie. Well, I have Jeb, but no one else. And he’s not a girl. He’s more like the dad I never had.

  After I’m quiet for far too long, he says, “Hey, I was only messing with you.”

  “Oh, sorry. My mind wandered a little.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not looking for another notch in my belt.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you have plenty already,” I mutter. With the way he looks, women probably follow him around like groupies. His notches most likely go all the way around his waist twice. Which again makes me wonder what he wants with me.

  “I’m going to ignore that comment. So back to my original statement. I want to change that. I think we could have a good time together—outside of the bedroom, if you’ll grant me the opportunity.”

  “You’re very persistent, but I already said yes.”

  “So, tonight then?”

  “Um, not tonight, but maybe soon.”

  “All right. But don’t make me wait too long.”

  After we end the call, I stare at the phone for much longer than necessary, still hearing his sexy voice. After dragging my lazy butt out of bed, I throw in a load of dirty laundry and hit the shower. Then I clean up the apartment and head to Mimi’s.

  I’m able to put off Weston for a couple of weeks, even though he calls and texts me all the time. He’s not annoying, but actually quite considerate. We discuss a wide variety of topics, including things we have in common, such as food and movies. Sometimes he’ll deliver sushi to the bar with a cute note saying, “This is for variety.” I have to admit, I’m intrigued. And if I’m honest, he’s growing on me and I feel like I already know him pretty well.

  “You should go out with him,” Jeb says.

  “I don’t know. It would take away a Sunday from Cody. I can’t do that. Besides, what if he finds out about Cody?”

  “What about it? You can’t keep h
im a secret forever. Go out at night. You deserve a life, Spesh.”

  “But that opens everything up, Jeb.”

  “You worry too much.”

  The following Sunday, around eleven, I’m getting ready to leave for Mimi’s when Weston calls.

  “Have you changed your mind yet?”

  “Maybe next Sunday.”

  “Special, it’s getting close to Thanksgiving. Pretty soon it will be New Year’s Eve, and I’ll need a date. Should we set that up now?”

  I have to laugh.

  “That might not be a bad idea. Listen, I need to get on the road or my grandmother will ground me.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you later.”

  When I get off the Vespa, Cody nearly knocks me over when he sees me. That boy is getting strong.

  “Honey Bear, I missed you,” he says. Golden brown eyes melt my heart. Their almond shape remind me so much of his mother’s, but the color must be his father’s because Sasha’s were ice blue. His dark curly hair and light mocha skin must be inherited from his father too since Sasha was blonde and ghostly pale, even in the heart of a Georgia summer. But his smile is all Sasha. Cody is a beautiful boy. He definitely got the best of both parents.

  “I missed you too, little man.”

  “I’m a big man,” he insists. He’s right; he is getting bigger by the week. I hate that my visits are restricted to Sundays only.

  “Yes, you are. Where’s Mimi?”

  “In the kitchen, where else?” she yells from said room.

  Cody leans in and whispers, “I think she’s making mashed potatoes.”

  “You do? Why do you think that?”

  “Because they’re my favorite and I asked her to and it’s Sunday.” His brows are drawn together, and he wears a serious expression.

  “Ah, I see. Well then, kiddo, I suppose that’s what she’s making. But how about we go and check it out?”

  He slips his hand into mine, and we head to the land of heavenly aromas. Mimi stands in front of the stove, stirring pots and creating her famous Sunday meal. My stomach grumbles in anticipation.