by I. T. Lucas
“So, Jackson, have you waited tables before?” she asked as she sat across from the guys.
His confident smile turned into a slight grimace, and Jackson cupped the back of his head. “No, I have no work experience. But I’m a quick learner, and I’m good with people. And I’m willing to start cheap,” he tacked on at the end.
Nathalie smiled. “You just said the magic words. You’re hired. How many hours a day can you work? I assume that you’re still in school?”
“I have only two finals left, and then I’m free. So the only times I can’t work is next Monday and Wednesday mornings.”
“How about your band? Don’t you need time to practice?” Bhathian asked.
Jackson shrugged. “The guys will work around my schedule, and if we get a gig, we’ll worry about it then.”
So the boy had dreams of becoming a rock star. Cute, but unrealistic. Then again, at his age, dreaming impossible dreams was still allowed.
“All I can pay is minimum wage. But you get to keep all of your tips, which given your charming smile, I have no doubt there will be plenty of.”
The conceited expression returned full force to his handsome face, and he extended his arm for a handshake. “When do I start?”
“How about right now?”
“Sweet.”
Bhathian chuckled. “You forgot something, my boy. Your car is still at school, and I’m not going to wait for you to finish work to drive you back.”
“Damn, can you drive me now? I’ll get it and come back. If it’s okay with you, boss?”
“No problem, and you can call me Nathalie.”
Jackson got up and waited for Bhathian to slide out of the booth, which considering his size wasn’t an easy feat.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” Jackson shook her hand again.
Nathalie was amused by the boy’s enthusiasm at the prospect of working for minimum wage plus tips. He was probably overestimating his potential earnings. This was a coffee shop, not an expensive steak house, and the tips weren’t that big.
As she saw them to the door, Nathalie desperately wanted to ask Bhathian about Andrew, but at the end, she chickened out.
There was just no way she could ask if Andrew had said anything to him about her. Which she imagined was something along the lines of describing how crazy he thought she was. And anyway, it wasn’t as if Bhathian would have told her anything.
Chapter 31: Bhathian
“Congratulations.” Bhathian clapped Jackson’s back as they exited the shop.
“Thanks, man, I owe you.”
Bhathian clicked open the doors and got behind the wheel. “No problem. I got two birds with one stone. You needed a job, Nathalie needed help. Everyone got what they wanted.”
Jackson scratched his ear. “I’m not sure I know what I’m supposed to do. Is it just waiting tables?”
“I suppose. Just do whatever Nathalie tells you to do. Perhaps she’ll need you to work the register, take orders, clean the kitchen. I have no idea. But you’re a smart guy, you’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, how hard can it be, right?”
How hard indeed. Bhathian hoped this arrangement would work out, and Jackson would not disappoint. Problem was, the boy was a teenage immortal, and working with humans might tempt him to use his powers.
“Listen, Jackson. You need to be careful and remember never to use your powers. I’m sure there will be situations when you’ll be tempted to. Like thralling a customer to give you a big tip, or worse…” He gave the boy a stern look. “You know what I’m talking about—girls. You’re a good looking guy, and if your looks and charm get you laid, I have no problem with that. But if I even suspect that you thralled someone…”
Jackson raised his hands in the air, putting on an innocent face. “Never, I swear. I’ve never thralled a girl for that. I don’t need to.”
Was this a slip of a tongue? “Then what other things have you thralled them for? I mean, other than after the sex to erase the memory of your fangs and the biting.”
“Nothing, I swear.”
“Jackson!”
The boy sighed in resignation. “Okay, just once, and it wasn’t a girl. I was failing math and thralled my math teacher to give me a passing grade.” He seemed worried as he glanced at Bhathian’s grim face. “I was desperate, my mom said she wouldn’t allow me to practice with my band unless I pass math. I had no choice. Please, don’t tell on me.”
“Was it the only time?”
“Yes, I swear on my best guitar.”
Bhathian chuckled. “Okay, I’ll let it slide. But if I hear you’ve done anything of the sort while working for Nathalie, I’ll personally whip you for it.”
Jackson shrugged. “Trust me, I know, you have nothing to worry about.”
Chapter 32: Andrew
Damn, it was after seven in the evening, and he was still at the office instead of leaving early like he’d planned. Upstairs had requested, or rather demanded, to see a progress report on his airport personnel investigation, and the fuckers wanted it by tomorrow morning.
Cutting corners left and right, he’d managed to finish it in record time, but the end product was a semi-passable thing that he would’ve never accepted from a subordinate. It would no doubt raise some brows—especially the ones belonging to his boss. After all, Andrew’s subpar work was going to reflect poorly on him.
But to hell with it. After years of exemplary work, he was allowed one shitty report. True?
Fuck, he should call Nathalie and let her know he was running late. Not that he was afraid she would go somewhere, stuck as she was at home with her father, but she might not open the door if he arrived after eight. The coffee shop would be closed already, and she’d be upstairs.
Pulling up the file he’d compiled about her, Andrew chose to use the shop’s number instead of the residence. Less incriminating, he could always claim to have gotten it from the directory.
“Fernando’s Bakery and Café, how may I help you?” Nathalie answered after one ring. She sounded breathless.
“Busy day, eh?”
“Andrew.” He could tell so much from just the way she’d said his name— surprise, relief, longing.
God, he was such an insensitive dumbass. Clearly, she’d thought he wasn’t coming back. He should’ve called her ten times by now just to let her know how much he liked her.
“I’m on my way, just wanted to tell you that I’m running a little late. I hope that it still okay with you.”
“Of course, I’m not going anywhere. Take your time and drive safely.”
“I will.”
Poor girl, she’d sounded so relieved. Andrew felt guilty, and yet, he couldn’t help also feeling a little smug.
Nathalie wanted him.
Without further hesitation, he emailed the report. Worst case scenario, his boss would chew his ass, and he would come up with an excuse, promising to do better next time. It seemed that his days as an exemplary government employee were over. He was becoming a slacker.
Andrew shrugged. He had more important things on his mind than winning the employee-of-the-month badge. Not that his department issued them.
As he drove to Nathalie’s place, he wondered whether he should stop somewhere and buy flowers. It felt awkward showing up empty-handed, especially since it was only their second date and he was going to her place. But that would introduce another delay he wanted to avoid. Still, once he got off the freeway, Andrew kept his eye out for a flower shop. If there was one on the way, he would stop by.
There was one, right on Nathalie’s street, and he stopped and ran out.
“Give me a nice bouquet for fifty, something for a date,” he told the girl behind the counter. Andrew wasn’t an expert on flowers, but he hoped that the amount should get him a decent arrangement.
“Do you know what kind of flowers she prefers?”
Andrew shook his head.
“Okay, how about color. What’s her favorite?”
&
nbsp; “I don’t know. Please, I’m in a hurry. Just pick something you would’ve liked to receive from a guy.”
The girl shrugged and headed out to the refrigerated section of the shop. A moment later she came back with a big bouquet. Too big.
“This one is nice, but it’s seventy-five.”
Whatever, he didn’t have time to send her back for another one.
“Fine, I’ll take it.”
“Do you want a card to go with it?”
“No.” He handed her his credit card.
Andrew didn’t know what was worse, showing up empty-handed, or with a thing that was as big as some of the centerpieces he’d seen in hotel lobbies.
Damn, he hoped she would like it. The good news was that he would be arriving after eight which meant that there would be no one in the shop to see him walk in with the flowers.
Wrong.
True, the sign on her door said closed, and there were no customers in the café, but the door was open, and as he came in he was greeted by a young guy who was wearing an apron with the café’s logo on it.
“Hi, I’m Jackson, the hired help.” He offered his hand for a handshake. “And you must be Andrew.”
They clasped hands, and Andrew glanced around looking for Nathalie. But the only one there other than the new guy was her father, who was seating in his booth, busy with a coloring book. Strange.
“Nathalie is upstairs taking a shower, and she told me to entertain you in the meantime. Can I offer you coffee? A Danish, perhaps? You’ve got to try the Danish, man, it’s out of this world.” Jackson rolled his eyes.
The kid was a good salesman, that was for sure.
“Why not. Do you know how to make a cappuccino?”
Jackson snorted. “Single? Double? Whole milk? Skim?”
“Double, skim.”
“Shaken not stirred?”
Andrew chuckled. “You got it.”
He walked over to Fernando, who was bent over his coloring book and concentrating hard on staying inside the lines of an intricate geometric shape.
“Good afternoon, sir, how are you doing today?”
Fernando paused with his red pencil pressed firmly into the page and looked up. There was no recognition in his eyes, but he tried to bluff his way through it. “Very well, thank you for asking. And you?”
“I’m good, thank you. Well, I’ll let you go back to your”— given the guy’s age, it seemed wrong to say coloring—“hobby”— much better. “It was good to see you.”
“Same here,” the old man smiled and waved him off, then bent back down to continue his work.
“It’s good for his condition,” Jackson whispered as Andrew slid into the booth he’d chosen, one that was next to a window, naturally. The boy placed a plate with a steaming Danish in front of him.
“Thanks for warming it up.”
“That’s the only way to eat it. I’ll be back with your cappuccino.”
Andrew took a bite, and his eyes rolled as well. It truly was out of this world. Nathalie had a gift.
He was halfway done with the pastry when Jackson came back with the cappuccino and slid into the booth across from Andrew with a cold can of coke in hand.
“So, Andrew, Nathalie tells me you’re Bhathian’s friend.” Jackson raised a brow as if to ask how Andrew knew the guy.
Had Bhathian been there today, visiting Nathalie on his own? Good for him.
“We work together.”
Jackson shifted in his seat, popped the coke can open, took a sip, and cupped it between his hands. The kid was trying to say or ask something and wasn’t sure how to go about it. “Bhathian is a great guy. He got me this job. I had to take a class that he teaches, that’s how I met him.”
Andrew smiled. Jackson was telling him who he was in a way that only someone who knew Bhathian would get. Smart.
Andrew offered Jackson his hand. “I’m Syssi’s brother, your regent’s wife.”
The kid’s eyes popped wide open. “Damn, I should’ve recognized you from the wedding. You look different without a tux.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t notice you there either.”
Jackson smirked and looked both ways as if checking to see that no one was listening in, then leaned toward Andrew. “Me and my buddies swiped a bunch of bottles from the bar and snuck out. We got wasted in the gym.”
“Aha, no wonder then.” Andrew smirked. He’d pulled similar stunts at Jackson’s age. Not being a hypocrite he had no intention of scolding the kid. “Tell me, Jackson, what did you guys tell Nathalie? She doesn’t know about us.”
“The truth. I was a student at a class Bhathian taught, and I told him I needed a job. That’s it. She didn’t ask any more questions, so I didn’t have to invent any lies.”
“What if she asks what kind of class was it? She thinks Bhathian and I are part of some secret arm of law enforcement.”
Jackson snorted. “Well, you are, kinda. And I’ll tell her the truth about the class as well. Bhathian teaching a class to juvenile delinquents fits well with what she thinks of you guys.”
“True.”
Chapter 33: Nathalie
As she descended the stairs, Nathalie’s heart was beating twice as fast as normal. She was even more nervous now than she’d been the day before.
Until Andrew had finally called, she’d thought of nothing else. She kept going over every detail of their date and analyzing every word said and every touch, to either reinforce or discard her suspicion that he wasn’t coming back.
Vacillating between hope and despair, by the end of the day she’d been a nervous wreck.
Problem was, even though she’d been relieved to the point of feeling faint to hear that he was still coming to see her, her high level of anxiety hadn’t gone all the way down yet.
Pausing by the doorway, she took a deep breath before leaving the kitchen’s shelter and stepping into her shop.
With a quick glance, she found Andrew sitting with Jackson in one booth, and her father in the one across the aisle from them. He was still busy with the adult coloring book Jackson had bought for him.
The boy had turned out to be a godsend. The customers loved him, and he’d learned to operate the cappuccino machine in one go—which was something that had taken her previous helpers weeks to do. But all of this was not as astounding as Jackson’s positive attitude toward her father. The boy had even called his mother, who happened to be an occupational therapist, to ask what would be a good activity for Fernando.
She’d suggested the adult coloring books.
Immediately, he’d volunteered to drive to the nearest bookstore that carried them. Nathalie had given him two twenties, and in less than half an hour, he’d got back with three books and a box of coloring pencils. Right there and then she’d decided to give him a raise. He was definitely worth more than minimum wage. Regrettably, she couldn’t afford much more than that.
Still, she was sure it would at least make Jackson feel appreciated. And besides, the way he was charming the customers, the boy was going to earn double if not more than what she was paying him in tips.
It had been impossible not to notice the look-overs Jackson had been getting all day—mostly from women, but also from some of the men. At times, Nathalie had found it disturbing to see women old enough to be his mother or even grandmother ogle the seventeen-year-old boy.
And yet, she suspected that Jackson not only wasn’t bothered by the looks but was actively encouraging them—probably to get even bigger tips.
The boy was a godsend but certainly not an angel. In a few years, he was going to leave a trail of broken hearts. Come to think of it, he probably already had.
Not that she would know anything about it. The one advantage of never having had a boyfriend was that she’d never been dumped. That being said, though, she might soon find out all about it. Because if things didn’t work out with Andrew…
Damn, why did it hurt so bad to even think about it?
Well,
as the saying went; nothing ventured, nothing gained. She had to take a risk. Even if it terrified her.
Nathalie took another moment to gaze at Andrew’s handsome face while Jackson kept him distracted.
There was something extra sexy about a man wearing a tie and blazer, a certain air of sophistication, of authority. Or perhaps it was Andrew’s personality more than his professional attire that was projecting this quiet air of command. That he was a capable, dependable man was evident just from his facial expression and the way he carried himself.
Charisma, confidence, he had all of those in spades.
And for some reason, he was interested in her, a woman who was still a virgin at thirty.
With a sigh, Nathalie shook her head. It didn’t make any sense, they were not a good fit. She was probably setting herself up for a heartache.
At the same moment, Andrew sensed her presence and turned his head to look at her. His eyes popped wide in a most gratifying way, and he got up, ignoring Jackson, who was still talking to him.
Her legs refusing to move an inch, Nathalie remained glued to her spot right outside the kitchen, mute, unable to even say hello as she waited for Andrew to reach her, which he did in a few long strides.
His arm reaching around her waist, he pulled her to him, his eyes full of heat as he looked down at her.
“Did anyone ever tell you how spectacular you are?” His other hand plowed into her hair, and he combed his fingers through it. “I’ve told you I’ve been dying to see you like this, imagining how you would look with your hair cascading down your back, your front—” His fingers brushed against the side of her breast, sending a bolt of desire that made her shiver.
“But the reality is even more beautiful than the fantasy. You look like a princess.”
He dipped his head, and she was powerless to deny him the kiss he took right in front of her father and Jackson.
