by Leah Holt
Digging through her mound of shoes, I asked, "So what about you? I thought Justin and you were over?"
I tried to keep my mouth shut, but it didn't work. I had to ask. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?
"Yeah, well, he called me earlier today, apologizing for the way he acted."
"And you believed him?" I asked, glancing at her over my shoulder. "Was it the same type of apology as last time when he blew up because another guy called your phone? You know, that guy who turned out to be your cousin?"
Letting out a long sigh, Kayla thinned her lips. "He sounded genuine, El. He wants to make it work. . . and honestly, so do I." Her voice cracked as she spoke, fading out at the end.
"Who are you trying to convince? Yourself or me?" I asked, letting my eyes connect with hers. "Is this what you want? To be someone who's under appreciated and worth less to a man than his brand name shoes?"
"I love him, El."
Pulling out the heels, I coddled them under one arm as I stood up. "Do you really love him?"
"I do."
"I wasn't actually looking for an answer. I think you need to sit down and really think about the question. If there's any doubt in your mind, any at all, then you need to at least be honest with yourself. Don't force yourself to love him just because he makes you feel bad. I think if you took a step back, you'd see him for who he is. He uses you, you have to try and see that."
"Are you a relationship therapist now?" Her tone was dry and annoyed. Pursing her lips, her eyes narrowed. "Because, I'm pretty sure you need to have experience in a relationship in order to give advice."
I knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear. And I wished, I really fucking wished, I could just give her my blessing and walk away. But it wasn't that easy for me. I loved her as if she was my sister. And it killed me to watch her walk through misery because she thought what she shared with that dick was worth that kind of pain.
"No, but I don't need experience to see the truth. And what I see isn't the same as what you see."
"What do you see?" Kayla asked, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.
Shaking my head, I grabbed the dress and hung it over my arm. "Nope, I'm not going there right now. I will tell you exactly what I think, but not until after this dinner, where I don't get ruffied, and I do wake up tomorrow in my own bed."
Kayla grunted, obviously, not liking what I was about to do. "And I'm the one being lectured right now—all I can say is, at least I know where you're going to be, that's a good thing. Especially, if the cops need to know where to start."
"Wish me luck?" I asked, giving her a big grin and puppy dog eyes.
"You can't ask me for that, I still think it's a bad idea. But," she said, pointing a finger up at the ceiling. "I do hope I'm wrong, and there's an actual job in this for you. And not one that involves you giving him head for fifty bucks."
"Gross," I said with a giggle. "I promise, that shit ain't happening—" Baring my teeth, I held my hand to my heart. "I won't give head for less than a hundred, it's not lady like."
Kayla slapped my shoulder and laughed, opening the door for us to step back out into the living room. "I can't with you."
Justin was sitting on the couch, beer in hand as he flipped through the television. Cocking his head over his shoulder to look at us, he smirked. "I was starting to think you two were getting it on in there, scissoring and shit. I was about to come jump in."
"You're a fucking pervert," I said as I walked to the door.
Holding up his beer, he tipped it in the air. "Thank you. That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Why am I not surprised by that?"
"Can you guys just stop already?" Kayla pulled the door open for me, giving me a real smile. "Good luck, El, seriously."
"Thanks."
Resting her hand on my shoulder, her expression turned serious. "But if I don't hear from you later tonight, I will call the police."
"Got it, I'll text you as soon as I get home."
"You better," she called out to me as I walked to the elevator.
Inside my heart was racing. I didn't want to think about all the scary shit that could happen doing something like this.
It was dangerous. Period.
But, I wanted to see what this man had to offer me, even if I regreted it later.
Because if you don't take chances in life, you just might miss out on something great.
And I wasn't going to miss a single oportunity.
Chapter Five
Ella
Standing outside the restaurant, I held my clutch tightly against my waist, just staring at the doors.
I wanted to go in, I wanted to jump back in a cab and drive anywhere that wasn't there. Every single man that walked by me and went into the restaurant I wondered if that was August.
Was it the man with gray hair and thin mustache that glanced at me briefly? Was it the tall slender guy, with a shaved head and big beard? Maybe it was the man standing at the entrance with two cranky kids, wondering why they had to get dressed up?
You won't know unless you go in.
Letting out a weighted breath, I started for the doors, only to stop midway and turn around, walking back to the edge of the sidewalk.
"Okay, what are you going to do, El?" I asked myself quietly. Pacing in a small circle, I faced the building. "I can do this, I can go see what he says. I need a job, that's why I'm here." Taking a step forward, I stopped again. "What if Kayla is right?"
I was torn between curiosity and fear of the unknown. What if he was a creep? Then what? I can always get up and leave. It's not a hard desicion. I got this.
"I'm going in." With a little pep talk and firm steps, I walked with confidence into the restaurant.
Despite the nerves and butterflies in my stomach, I wasn't going to let that hold me back. I didn't know a fucking thing about this job, or August, and the whole point of calling was because I needed a damn job and I needed one quick.
I felt the doors close behind me as I looked around the room. It was gorgeous, elegant and sleek. The hostess was standing at a podium that had deep fancy grooves carved up and down the front, her eyes set on the book open in front of her.
The room was open with high ceilings, long black leather benches lined the walls against the street side, and tall glass windows ran from ceiling to floor. A sparkling crystal chandelier hung above my head, speckling the room with soft bursts of light. It was beautiful, drawing my eyes up, and keeping me mesmerized.
"Can I help you?" the hostess asked, pulling me back to reality.
Walking up to her, I smiled. "Hello," I said, waving awkwardly.
I had never been in such a fancy restaurant before. Most of the time Kayla and I would meet up at a little coffee shop that sat mid-way between her place and mine, or for late nights we'd meet at Two O'clock Nellies, a run down bar that was open till four in the morning.
Fancy for me was getting dressed to go substitute and having runny nosed kids wipe their hands across their face, and then pull on my dress to get my attention.
This was different.
"Hello, I'm Gina, welcome to the Red Tavern." Returning a smile, she picked up a pen and asked, "Do you have a reservation?"
"Oh, I'm actually here to meet someone. His name is August. Do you know if he's here already?"
"Ah," she said with a smirk. "You must be Ella, he's been waiting for you. Please, follow me." The young woman stepped down from her post, and started to walk into the dining room.
"Wait," I said quickly, causing her to stop short and look over her shoulder. "This might seem like a strange question, but. . ." Pausing, my eyes shifted around hers. "Can you point him out first?"
Giving me a little giggle, she nodded. "Sure, he's right—" Her words hung in the air as she looked towards the back of the room from the doorway. "There, just past the table with the woman in the bright blue dress."
Peeking beyond Gina, August was sitting stoicly at the table,
looking over the menu. We were standing too far back to make out any fine details, but he was wearing a black suit and had the look of a businessman.
Promising so far. At least he looks professional.
"That's him, huh?"
"That's August Burke," she said, giving me a teasing smile.
August Burke. . . Why do I feel like I've heard that name before?
Gina started forward, but I stopped her again. "Okay, one more question." Holding out my arms, I looked myself over. "Do I look alright?"
"Well," she said, glancing me up and down. "You look beautiful, plus you're wearing his favorite color. I think he's really going to like you." Giggling, she nodded her head. "Come on, I'll take you to the table."
One point, Ella. . . I'll take it, let's hope the trend continues.
Swallowing hard, I followed her through the tables, weaving around waiters and waitresses as they squeezed between us.
My heart was in my throat, my stomach was in knots, my skin was flushed and hot as my nerves went wild. This was out of my comfort zone, so far from what I was used to. He hadn't asked for a resume or credentials, he hadn't requested work history or a background check, not a damn thing for me to bring to this meeting.
All he knew was my name, that was it.
Approaching the table, August stood up and gave me a gentle smile, adjusting his blazer. "You must be Ella," he said, holding out his hand towards me.
"And you must be August." Placing my hand in his, I expected a firm shake.
That wasn't what I got.
August's lids lowered as he looked me over, curling his thick fingers around mine and bringing my palm to the back of his lips. Kissing my hand softly, he moved me gently, guiding me towards my chair.
I was taken back, unprepared for that type of greeting. My body reacted, moving with him easily. His touch controlled me, it manipulated me in a way that nothing had before. I could feel the air as it trickled into my lungs, I could sense the heat in my veins as the pads of his fingers swept over my skin.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Holding onto my hand, his thumb brushed over my knuckles, causing the hair on my arm to prickle.
Inhaling a sharp breath, I forced the flutter in my gut to calm down, reminding myself that this was an interview, not a date. It was crazy, the entire greeting was probably no more than twenty seconds long, but this feeling was intense, gripping someplace deep in my core.
Pulling my hand free quickly, I asked, "Do you always greet the women you interview like this?"
"Only the beautiful ones. You look stunning in that dress." Pulling out the seat for me, he gave me a sexy smile. Again, my heart went crazy, my stomach twirling, like a tornado had suddenly touched down.
He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, leaving me breathless with just a simple touch. I wasn't sure if I should thank him for the compliment or pretend I wasn't affected by it.
But, I could feel my cheeks getting hotter, knowing that they were probably fire red, and my hands were getting clammy from nerves. All I could do was smile back as I took my seat, unable to form the right words on my tongue.
Focus, El! He might end up being your boss! Stay professional!
Pushing me in, August took his seat. "I wasn't sure if you were going to come or not."
"Why wouldn't I come?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even and calm.
I didn't want him to sense my nerves or realize how extremely uncomfortable I actually was. He made me so damn nervous and I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the power that seemed to radiate from his body, a confidence that made him seem larger than life.
Smirking, a small dimple popped against his cheek and my stomach flipped upside down again. I'm screwed. Even if I get the job, how the hell will I ever work with this man?
"I can't answer that," he said, tapping his finger on the table. "I don't know a thing about you, yet. But in my experience, a woman who isn't confident, doesn't show up."
"Maybe, I just went against my better judgement." Lifting a shoulder, I tilted my head a hair and studied the man in front of me.
His suit was not something he just bought at any old store. It was tailored to fit him to perfection. The arms met his wrists, the shoulders curved over his back as if it was crafted on his body. Not one stitch was out of place or loose, there wasn't a piece of lint or stray hair or wrinkle tarnishing the crisp black fabric.
August had light brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and a perfectly manicured beard adorning his face. Our eyes connected, and I noticed his were a color I had never seen before. They were bright green, with a dark blue ring around the outside, speckles of gold and amber glittered under the flicker of the candle on the table.
He had a rugged jaw with sharp angles, and his cheeks plumped up when he smiled, causing that fucking dimple to pop again.
August was handsome, the type of handsome that stops you in the street and causes slow motion tunnel vision. The kind of handsome that women swoon over, drawing them in like a moth to a flame.
And I'd be lying if I didn't say that same force was curling around my insides, making my muscles shiver and my thighs clench.
"I think good judgement brought you here." His smile widened, baring perfect teeth. "Let's get you a drink." Holding up his hand, he flagged down a waiter.
"Yes, Mr. Burke, what can I get you?"
"I'll take a Whitecap IPA." Letting his eyes float to mine, he asked, "What would you like?"
"I'll just have some water, thanks."
"Water? This place has some really great brews on tap, you should try one."
"Maybe after, but right now, water is good."
The waiter nodded, leaving us alone.
August's eyes flicked to mine, settling on my face as he sat motionless.
Instantly my chest tightened and my stomach clenched. The oxygen seemed to get sucked out of the air, making my muscles feel weak. Every inch of my body was suddenly begging me to move closer to him, to let this power have what it desired. I had to shut it down, telling myself over and over again that I was there for an interview, not a blind date, not to meet a man who could probably make me scream louder than I ever had before.
No more, El!
August sat back in his chair not saying a word, his eyes zeroing in on me, seemingly aware of the thoughts running thorugh my head.
"So," he finally said, running his thumb over his bottom lip. "Tell me a little about yourself."
"Alright, well. . ." Pausing for a moment to gather my thoughts, I looked down at the table. "I'm a hard worker, I learn quickly, and I'm not afraid to ask questions—"
"No," he cut in, his voice a firm command. "Tell me something else."
"Like what?" I asked, folding my hands in my lap. I couldn't keep my nerves in check. The way he spoke, the smoothness in his voice and look in his eyes was creating a rush of warmth across my body.
"Let's start with the easy questions. Are you from New York?"
"No, I moved here a little over a year ago." Fiddling with my hands, my lips curled into a half smile. "Came here to live a dream, just like everyone else." Letting out a light laugh, I shrugged a shoulder. "But, dreams take time."
"Do you like it?"
"I do." My voice was weak, but not because of my nerves, it was because I didn't believe my answer.
I did love this city, but the longer I was there not living the life I wished for, the further that love seemed to fade away.
Grunting, August shifted in his seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. "It doesn't sound like it."
"I know, but I do—or rather I did." Picking up the fork next to my plate, I twisted the prongs into the top of the table. "It's easy to imagine the dream, but it's a lot harder to grasp it."
"Yeah, it's one thing to visit, but another thing to try and throw down roots here. Where are you from originally?"
"Rhode Island."
"I've been there for work, it's a nice little state. Do you have family t
here still?"
His questions seemed irrelevant, but I was willing to do this small talk game if he thought it would help move us into the reason I was there to begin with.
"I do, my mother and sister still live there."
"Wow, so you took a leap of faith and decided to move here all alone, that's impressive." His voice flowed smooth as cognac, spilling out with ease. The richness in his tone tugged on my heart strings, turning the even beat into an erratic and viscious pounding.
"My mother doesn't think so, but I can't live for her, I have to live for myself. But, I'm not really alone, I have my best friend here. I've just always felt like I belonged here, I can't explain it, but the city called to me."
"New York does that to people. I'm originally from North Carolina, but this place drew my parents in. We moved here when I was about ten, been here ever since."
"That must have been tough, to move away as a kid to a new place."
August's lip twitched at the corner into a playful smile. "It worked out for the best." Stroking his jaw, I felt his gaze as it traveled around my face, down my neck and over my chest. "You have beautiful eyes," he said.
"Thank you." My voice wavered as my sex began to pulse with arousal. Shifting in my chair, I crossed my leg.
"You really do, I'm not just saying that."
I was fidgety, placing down the fork and plucking at the tablecloth, wondering how to sell myself to this man. The whole point of this was for a job, not my life history, not to flirt. . .
Shit. What if it was an ad for sex?
Swallowing hard, I cleared my throat, ready to move the conversation to why we were having this meeting. "So your ad, it mentioned children, I'm guessing you're looking for some help at home?"
"Do you like kids?" he asked, bouncing his brows off his hairline. Veering his stare, he watched me curiously, but I couldn't tell what type of answer he was looking for.
"I do actually. I've made my life about them. . ." Pausing, I smiled. "Them and music. I'm a teacher, well, trying to be anyway."
"I'm really happy to know you like kids. Have you ever thought about having any of your own?"
