by Linda Verji
“Don’t worry, if I break his record, I’ll bring you my ball myself to replace his,” Javier flirted, as he gave her body a not-so-subtle once-over.
April tittered. “You don’t have to-”
“April, we have other guests-” Roman cut into the sickening display they were putting on. “-and they aren’t going to cater to themselves.”
“Hey, don’t ruin the moment.” Javier shot Roman a glare.
“No, Mr. Teller is right. I should circulate,” April quickly intervened. “It was great to meet you, Mr. Consuelos.”
“It was great to meet you too,” Javier answered. When she left, he turned to follow her with his gaze. “Mm mm mm. Look at her go.”
Roman reached forward to smack the back of the young man’s head. “You’re an embarrassment.”
“For her, I’ll be anything,” Javier retorted cheekily as he rubbed the back of his head. “Do you think she’d go out on a date with me?”
“She’s three years older than you.”
“I like ‘em older.”
“She’s gay.”
“I’ll turn her straight.”
“You’re a fool.”
“A fool for her.” Javier turned to look at her again before shaking his shoulders in a faux-shiver. “Damn, that girl is fine.”
Roman tried to turn the conversation back to investment but April had thoroughly ruined Javier. The young man kept sneaking glances at her until Roman suggested moving their meeting to his office. His excuse was that the dining room was starting to fill up, and they didn’t need people eavesdropping on their conversation. Thankfully, Javier didn’t catch on to the real reason for the move, and went along with it.
But Roman had underestimated the young man’s persistence.
As soon as they were seated in Roman’s office, Javier asked, “Is April single?”
Roman’s hand curled into a tight fist.
*
THOUGH THE DINING room was beginning to fill up again for dinner service, April found herself being dragged into the kitchen.
“You need to talk to Roman,” Vina confronted her. “How are we supposed to cook under these conditions?”
“Why am I the one who has to talk to him?” April protested. “I don’t run the kitchen. You do.”
“Because you’re the only one Emperor McStingy listens to,” Oscar, Vina’s sous-chef, jumped in.
Leveling a frustrated look at the pair of chefs, April sighed. “What’s he done now?”
“You mean apart from trying to slash our sugar fund?” Vina looked up at the ceiling as she counted down Roman’s sins. “Let’s see. He’s also slashed the flour and pepper funds. Apart from that, he’s trying to get us to pile all the dirty pans in the sink while cooking and only wash them once to lessen the water bill. That would be possible if we had more pans, but we don’t, and when I asked him to buy more, he threw a fit. And that’s just a tip of the iceberg. Your man is a menace.”
“He’s not my man,” April corrected automatically.
Many of Roman’s suggestions about ways to budget and cut costs in the restaurants were extremely effective. But he’d been known to go overboard. While they were all working in the other Tellers, Greyson had been there to balance him out. Now that he was sole manager here, there was no one to reel him in because Vina was way too impatient and mouthy to negotiate effectively with him. Which left April to do the negotiating.
“Please,” Vina begged. “Please talk to him.”
“Fine.” April sighed. “I’ll talk to him while we’re going home.”
“No, you have to do it now,” Vina protested. “Oscar has to go shopping tomorrow morning which means he’ll leave with that defective list tonight unless you and Roman fix it.”
“Fix it, February,” Oscar chanted. “Fix it, please.”
April glared at him. “Call me February again, and you’re on your own.”
“Sorry, Madame,” he quickly apologized.
With another sigh, April started for the door.
“Start with the sugar thing,” Vina called out behind her. “We need our sugar.”
The fastest way to get Roman to back down was to charm and flirt with him, something that was best done while they were alone. Though she knew he was in his office, she wasn’t sure if he was there with Javier or alone. Her plan was to listen at the door to make sure he was the only one in the room before knocking. Thankfully, the door was slightly open, and all she had to do was creep closer to it.
The first voice she heard was Roman’s. He was saying, “You don’t want to get involved with someone like her.”
Obviously, he wasn’t talking to himself. April could have left then but she wasn’t sure if he was talking to someone in the room with him or to someone on the phone. So she stayed. It was the worst decision she’d ever have made.
“Why not?” Javier asked. “April looks like a nice girl.”
April stilled at the mention of her name.
“You got all that from just looking at her?” Amusement colored Roman’s tone.
“We talked a little too,” Javier protested. “Besides, I can usually tell what kind of a person someone is just from looking into their eyes. I told you I majored in psychology, right?”
“Forget that psychology crap,” Roman retorted. “The truth is that April’s a groupie and groupies are trouble.”
The pain that lanced through April at his words was indescribable – beyond anything she’d ever felt. It felt like Roman had just stabbed her in the heart.
Javier protested, “She doesn’t look like a groupie.”
“She is.” Roman paused. “Groupies are pretty easy to point out. They’re pretty, always know who the celebrities are, well-put together, expensive clothes despite holding low-paying jobs and having humble backgrounds – you’ve got to be careful of girls like that.”
Was that really what he thought of her? Tears pricked at the back of April’s eyes, threatening to spill over. How could he say such a thing about her? And to a stranger too! Did he really think of her as a mere groupie? She wanted to rush out of there and back downstairs so she wouldn’t have to hear anymore, but her feet refused to move.
“Once a girl like that gets her claws in you, you’re done,” Roman went on. “One second you’re on top of the world, the next you’re in court fighting with your baby-mama over child support.”
Javier, who was turning out to be her unlikely knight in shining armor, said, “That doesn’t sound like April at all.”
“That’s because you don’t know women like I do,” Roman countered.
A tear slipped down April’s cheek. This was really what he thought of her. No wonder he refused to get involved with her – he’d relegated her to the position of an amusing but leprous groupie who was after him because of his money. Another tear slid down her face. She slashed her arm over her cheek to wipe it off.
“Trust me, I’ve been there,” Roman continued. “You don’t need that kind of hustle.”
Though she knew that he’d had his fair share of crazy women, she’d never been one of them. She’d never faked a pregnancy, never tried to hawk their sex-tape to tabloids, never faked a rape or even tried to blackmail him into paying her so she wouldn’t tell the world that he slept with married women. She’d thought he knew she was different; that he knew that the only thing she wanted was him – not his money, not his fame.
Apparently, she was wrong.
All these years and she was only now learning what he really thought of her. Finally the veil was torn from her eyes and she could see herself clearly for what she was to him. A groupie.
She’d never felt more like an idiot.
How could she love a man like him? A man who thought so little of her. Her friends had berated her so many times for letting Roman string her along, but she’d always defended him, saying that she was the one who’d chosen continue loving him despite knowing that he didn’t feel the same way. Yet here he was making a fool out of her
in front of a stranger.
Unable to listen to more of their conversation, she started back downstairs with tears streaming down her cheeks.
CHAPTER 3
By the time Javier left, Roman was sure that he’d effectively dissuaded the man from pursuing April. Some of the things he’d said were harsh but that was the only way to protect her. The fact that Javier was a well-known player shouldn’t have bothered Roman, especially because his own reputation wasn’t exactly squeaky clean. But it did. It bothered the hell out of him especially because the young man’s charms were directed at April.
Somehow, April had managed to do what no woman, outside his family, had done… brought out his protective instincts. Not that she needed them. Given her job as a hostess, she had the experience and skill to resist a smooth man like Javier. The problem was that she might not want to resist him.
Roman had always been suspicious of April’s feelings for him. That she liked him was obvious – but the reason she liked him was what bothered him. He suspected that she was more in love with the idea of Roman Teller, ex-baseball player and now multi-millionaire, than she was with him. His wealth and fame had certainly drawn other women so what made April different? Maybe if they’d met under different circumstances, met when she didn’t know who he was or what he could do for her, then he would’ve found it easier to trust her.
But they hadn’t and he couldn’t.
Javier Consuelos was probably the kind of guy she wanted. He was easy on the eyes, a pro-athlete and moneyed to boot - like Roman. Who’s to say that she wouldn’t decide to forget her long-held crush on Roman and switch her attention to the younger man? Roman couldn’t let that happen.
Not because he was jealous. Of course not!
He really didn’t want her for himself. He just wanted to keep her from being hurt.
As much as he didn’t trust that her feelings for him were genuine, he still considered her as his friend and he wasn’t about to hand her off to the next celebrity just to make his life easier. Especially not to one who loved women as much as Javier did. The young man would likely use her as a jump-off before moving on to the next woman who captured his attention.
Roman wouldn’t let that happen. Not on his watch.
He entered the dining room to find it filled to the brim with diners. Every table was occupied with smiling, laughing, chatting, eating guests. Servers expertly weaved between tables, taking and fulfilling orders. And smack in the middle of them was April.
She looked even more radiant when lit by the room’s amber overhead lights. The light lingered on her smooth skin, danced on her plump lips and kissed her soft smiles as she moved from table to table to make sure their diners were happy.
Roman’s heart bumped in his ribcage as he stared at her. Why couldn’t they have met under different circumstances? He could imagine the scenario; she accidentally rear-ends his car on the highway, they both come out of their respective cars to check the damage but she doesn’t recognize that he’s Roman Teller. He instantly falls for her but she doesn’t feel the same way so when he asks for a date, she promptly refuses. Somehow he gets her number, but it’s only after weeks of unrelenting pursuit that she reluctantly lets him take her out on a date. The rest is a given, she falls madly in love with him, they get married and have little babies with his eyes and her beauty.
What a couple they would’ve made!
But that was just imagination. In reality, she knew exactly who he was and it had played a big part in her instantly falling for him. And it irked the hell out of him because now he couldn’t pursue her. If he did, all he’d end up doing was questioning whether their relationship was real. Would she love him if he was just Roman, the bartender, or Roman, the overworked salesman, or Roman, the struggling businessman? He doubted it. In the end his doubts would kill their relationship. And if he somehow found out that his suspicions were correct, their friendship would be dead too.
It was better to keep things between them platonic.
As if she could feel that he was looking at her, she turned and her gaze shifted in his direction. Their eyes met. Locked. He expected her to smile as she always did, and his own lips turned upwards in anticipation. But she didn’t. Her top lip lifted in a sneer before she swiftly turned away from him.
He frowned. What was that about? Had he done something to piss her off?
If they weren’t in the middle of dinner service, he would’ve immediately pulled her aside. But they were. Still troubled, he headed to a table filled with a couple of regulars. Somehow he managed to mask his confusion with an amiable smile as he greeted the diners.
Though his job mostly consisted of behind-the-scenes management and April did a good job of running the front-house, Roman regularly came out to the dining room during service. As much as being recognized as a star could be irritating, it also had its advantages. Some people came to Tellers expressly because he was here. Never one to disappoint the fans or to turn away good money, he always came out to chat, sign autographs, take pictures and so on.
The diners kept him busy all through dinner service, and by the time they closed the kitchen, his mouth was dry from so much talking.
“Great job tonight!” He congratulated his staff as they headed to their break-room to change into their street-clothes.
“Thanks, boss,” a few called out as they passed him.
“Does that mean we’re getting a bonus?” someone teased causing tittering amongst the other members of staff.
Roman just laughed. He didn’t care that people called him tight-fisted. His respect for money had brought him far enough that he could now call himself a millionaire despite his humble beginnings. And if it wasn’t for his being so careful about spending, some of them wouldn’t even have their jobs. So who was really winning here?
He caught April’s wrist as she passed him. Immediately, she whirled around to face him and curtly asked, “What?”
There was no denying the irritation in her eyes. Roman was about to tell her to hurry so he could drive her home, but he was so surprised by her irritation that he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” she asked icily as she tugged at her hand until he let her go.
He frowned. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Have you done something wrong?” she returned, sarcasm dripping from her raised eyebrows and her every word.
He had no idea what he could have done wrong. As far as he knew they were on good terms. Through the side of his eye, he caught a few of his employees lingering at the landing of the stairs as if to eavesdrop on his and April’s conversation.
To April, he said, “Let’s talk about this on the way home. Hurry u-”
“I’m taking a cab,” she cut him off.
“What?” He frowned.
“I’m taking a cab,” she repeated slowly as if he was hearing-challenged.
“Why?” he asked. The two of them lived fifteen minutes apart and it was almost eleven. It didn’t make sense for him not to drive her home.
“Reasons.” She swiveled on her heels and started for the stairs. “Bye.”
“April,” he called out but she was already gone. She didn’t even look back at him as she took the stairs one-by-one.
Not quite believing that she was serious about taking the bus, he waited for her anyway. About ten minutes later, she reemerged in the dining room with a group of other employees. His gaze locked on her, he stood up. But she didn’t even look his way. She passed right by him and headed for the door.
If it wasn’t for his surprise mixed in with a healthy dose of ego, he would’ve followed her and insisted she go home with him. Instead, he got into his car and slowly trailed behind her as she walked to the main road. True to her word, she hailed a cab and got in. He could’ve stopped following her then, but his protective instincts kicked in. It was eleven and he didn’t want her moving around alone.
Roman trailed the cab until it stopped in front of the gates that led into he
r apartment building. He pulled up on the side of the road to watch April disembark from the cab then pay her fare. His frown got deeper. Why would she spend money on a cab when he was here for her? She’d never refused a free ride before so why now? What had he done that had pissed her off so much? He took out his phone and dialed her number.
Because of the streetlights, he clearly saw her extract her phone from her purse. It was too dark for him to see her expression when she saw his number, but a second later, she abruptly ended his call.
“The number you’re calling is unavailable. Plea-” Stunned, Roman cut off the mechanical female voice that taunted him.
Had April really rejected his call? Without a backward glance, she headed into the complex. He must’ve really pissed her off. He wished he knew how so he could apologize. He tried calling her once as he headed home. This time she let the call ring to its natural end but still didn’t pick up. Usually, she sent him a goodnight text message or called him before she turned in for the night but by the time he settled in bed, she still hadn’t made any kind of contact.
Roman could’ve texted her himself but he was so used to her being the initiator that it didn’t feel natural. With a sigh, he set his phone on the bedside table and waited, hoped that she was just late tonight. But no text message or call came.
*
APRIL WAS IN battle-mode and had no intention of calling off her cold war on Roman. Five days. Five days since he’d turned her world upside down with his nasty words. Five days since she’d stopped talking to him about anything that didn’t involve Tellers and her job – and even then it was in her wintriest tone. Five days that felt like the longest days of her life.
Every time she saw him or he spoke to her, her heart weakened. Every time he leveled those sad ‘what’s wrong’ eyes at her, her heart begged her to forgive him. But each time, her memory countered that weakness by regurgitating the things he’d said, and her resolve strengthened. No forgiveness. No surrender. He didn’t deserve it.
