by Parker, Ali
“You’ve been saying that for six months,” she argued. “If you go to the game tomorrow, we won’t be able to pay our rent at the end of the month.”
“That can’t be right.” In the reflection of the window beside me, I saw Greg folding his arms. He was a stockier guy than what he sounded like, had short, frizzy black hair, and wore wire-rimmed glasses. “Plus, I have that meeting on the course tomorrow. We’re going to be fine by the end of the month, Anna. I promise you, okay?”
Anna was quiet for a long time before I heard her release a sigh. Her volume had lowered, but she still spoke loudly enough for me to able to hear her. “Okay, but this is the last time. If that meeting doesn’t pan out, no more golf. I trust you, baby. I know we’ll get out of this together, I just don’t know if the golf course is the place to do it.”
After that, I couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I went back to staring absently out the window while waiting to be served.
Honestly, I didn’t understand why finances were such a big deal to people. Greg and Anna were obviously in trouble financially, I got that. But they also had each other. I didn’t know them, but I was as sure as Anna was that they would get out of it together.
People could always make more money. It might not be fun, and it might be hard work, but there was plenty of money out there to be made. In the past four years alone, I had managed to double the company’s worth.
It was like Greg said, it only took one deal to get the ball rolling. Finding the right person to couple up with, however, that took way more to really get the ball rolling. I, for one, had given up on finding that elusive “one.” Frankly, I didn’t have time and more than that, it was fucking exhausting to date.
Instead of playing the dating game, I’d taken to fucking when I felt the need to and moved on. I was clear upfront about not wanting a relationship, and the women I slept with all felt the same. They hadn’t wanted anything more either. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
And yet, I’d give all the money I had if I could find what Greg and Anna had with each other. It simply hadn’t worked out that way for me, but having a true partner was what I’d always wanted. Someone to talk to the way those two did, someone who loved and trusted me unconditionally. Someone who I could love and trust the same way.
Since when do I wax poetic about this shit? Shaking my head at myself, I glanced down at my watch purely to do something. But then I realized that I had been waiting for more than fifteen minutes and still hadn’t been served.
A woman who looked like she might be the manager was standing near the door now, but she hadn’t been there when I walked in. Signaling her to get her attention, I called her over.
“What can I do for you, sir?”
How to put it delicately? “I’ve been waiting for some time and I still haven’t been served. I’m not sure if perhaps no one realizes I’m here. I seated myself.”
“I’m so sorry, sir. I do apologize for the oversight. Either I or one of the waitresses is usually at the door at all times. I don’t know how this could have happened. I understand that you’re upset—”
I lifted my hand to stop her, my lips curling into a smile. “I’m not upset. I completely understand. If you’ll just send a menu over, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Right away, sir. Thank you for being so calm about this.”
“No problem.”
The woman flashed me a tight smile before hurrying away. A little over a minute later, a girl wearing a navy blue uniform was crossing the floor toward me carrying a leather-bound menu. A gorgeous fucking girl.
The scowl she wore and the obvious annoyance in the way her lips were pursed didn’t make her any less beautiful. Although they did make her more interesting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought she was annoyed at me for having to wait on my table.
That couldn’t be right, though. She was a waitress, waiting on me was literally her job, and unless she hung around here for fun, she was at her job right now. To be fair, though, I would also have been annoyed if I were her.
She should have been doing something so much more than being a waitress. Not that there was anything wrong with being in the service industry, but this girl was way too hot not to be making her living doing something so much bigger.
Like modeling or acting. It was easy to imagine her being on a billboard or on the big screen. Short, raven-black hair was cut to be longer and sharper at the front than at the back. The effect of the hairstyle was to create a literal frame for her delicately featured face, black hair almost to her shoulders in the front that contrasted with pale, porcelain skin.
Her lips and cheeks were pink. I couldn’t see what color her eyes were at first, but as she came closer, I noticed they were hazel. A captivating blend of blues and greens and golds.
What made her even more interesting than the scowl and the pursed lips was that while her features would have made me expect her to be fine and sensitive, the tattoos on her forearms and peeking out below her shirt indicated that she was most certainly not.
She had the features of a fairy-tale princess, but the look of a badass rocker chick who would knee me in the balls for even thinking the word “princess” when it was being applied to her. And then she’d probably mock me for having a casual thought about fairy tales.
Waxing poetic again, huh? I mentally chastised myself, ripping myself out of whatever trance the sway of this girl’s hips had put me in. The point was that if she was annoyed with her job, I totally understood. I’d have been willing to put money on it that there were a ton of designers who’d have loved to make her the face of their next campaign.
I definitely wouldn’t be forgetting that face anytime soon. It may even be starring in my fantasies tonight.
Chapter 6
Valerie
“Valerie!” The manager’s hiss drew my attention away from my phone and to the doorway of the back room. She came storming through it, her hands in fists at her side. “What are you doing lying on the couch? There’s a customer who has been waiting for you to take his order.”
I shrugged, slowly lowering my feet to the floor. “My section was empty a minute ago.”
“Funny, because he’s been sitting there for quite a few minutes.” Her blue eyes were stormy, her frown so deep it resembled the Grand-fucking-Canyon. “What have I told you before about relaxing in the break room when you’re not supposed to be on break anyway? Even if your section was empty, you should have been on the floor.”
“For what?” Slipping my feet back into the pumps I’d taken off next to the couch, I stood up. “What’s the difference between standing around out there or sitting around in here?”
A vein became visible on her forehead as her face reddened. “You are on your last legs at this job, young lady. Your friends are fine, but you…?”
She narrowed her eyes on mine, extending an arm and jabbing her finger in the direction of the dining area. “Go. Now. Before I change my mind about giving you a last chance.”
“Keep your fucking chance,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way out of the break room. “I never wanted it anyway.”
Anger and frustration fueled my steps. I really hated this job and there was nothing I could do about it. Olive, Heidi, and I needed the money, and besides, I had very few marketable skills. A job was a job, and I needed one.
Gritting my teeth, I yanked a menu from the pile near the door and stormed over to my section for the day. Two menus, which had been lying on top of the one I’d grabbed just because it was sticking out a little, fell to the ground. I ignored them.
Whoever this customer was had apparently been waiting long e-fucking-nough. If the menus on the floor bothered anyone, they could pick them up themselves. Else I would pick them up when I was good and ready to.
Fuming as I stormed across the room to the far side of the restaurant, I very nearly missed the intense scrutiny of the man sitting at the table I was rushin
g toward. The ice-blue eyes conducting the scrutiny were set in a handsome face belonging to a man who looked like he couldn’t be more than a few years older than me.
He had short dark hair, a jawline that could cut glass, and shoulders broad enough to cling to while riding out an orgasm. He also definitely looked like the kind of guy who could deliver those with relative ease. Guys that hot had to have enough experience to be able to do it anyway.
Wearing a crisp shirt that matched his eyes almost perfectly and jeans, he wasn’t dressed differently than anyone else around. But there was still something about him that set him apart. It wasn’t even the fact that the outfit he was wearing was probably more expensive than our rent had been for a month back in New York.
There was something else, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He had an air about him that was confident and cool, but he didn’t seem to be arrogant or cocky. I’d caught him staring straight at me as if he had x-ray vision, and he didn’t even flinch. He didn’t look away. But he also didn’t smirk, cock an eyebrow, lick his lips. Nothing.
He simply kept looking at me as if he weren’t in the slightest bit affected by the fact that I’d caught him in the act. One of his arms was resting casually on the backrest of the chair beside him. His sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows, revealing forearms that were toned but not overly muscled. They did that sexy rippling thing when he moved one of his fingers or something, but they weren’t bulging or obscene.
All in all, he was very nice to look at. At least he’d distracted me from my awful mood after yet another run-in with the manager.
When I came to a standstill next to his table, I caught the faint scent of clove and nutmeg. It had to be him, since I knew those smells weren’t usually in the restaurant, and it was damn mouthwatering.
“Hi, I’m Valerie.” I kept eye contact with him, noticing how those ice-blue eyes might as well have swirled for how hypnotic they were. There were darker-blue crystals around his pupils with the faintest darker rim around the iris. And you’ve officially been staring at him for way too long.
Mentally shaking myself free of his hypnosis, I smiled and put the menu down in front of him. “I’m sorry about the wait. What can I get you?”
“Valerie.” The way he said my name was almost like he was rolling it around in his mouth, trying it on for size. He was as unapologetic, unrelenting, and unhurried in person as he had been when I’d caught him checking me out.
As if he then decided that he approved of my name, his perfectly full lips curled into a smile. “I’m Fulton. It’s nice to meet you. I’d like a club soda and a coffee, please.”
His voice was as cultured as his clothes, deep and sexy. God, I bet he could make me come just by talking to me.
Crap. I had to snap out of it. I was at work, for crying in a damn bucket. “Coming right up.”
As I walked away from him, I added a little extra sway to my hips. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know if he was watching me walk away, but I wanted him to be. Even if it was because he was the only interesting thing that had—and probably would—happen to me today.
I hustled to get the drinks back to him, smiling again when I set them down. “There you go, would you like to order anything to eat?”
“Not right away.” His head tilted to the side, his eyes never leaving mine. “Have a seat with me?”
He’d phrased it like it was a question, but it didn’t sound like one. It was quite obvious that he was a guy who was used to being obeyed, used to people doing what he wanted if he so much as suggested it.
If it had been anyone else, I would have laughed in his face and walked away just to prove a point. I didn’t want to walk away from him yet, though. I blamed it on the fact that my job was monotonous as balls. Having a chat with a guy who seemed as interesting as this one was just about the only thing that would set today apart from any other day.
Bored as I was, I preferred the chatting option to the proving a point one. “If my manager shows up to yell at me, be sure you tell her that you asked me to sit with you.”
“Sure.” He motioned toward the seat across from him with that same elegant air he held himself with. There was something very deliberate behind every movement he made, this easy grace that made it look like he didn’t actually need to move his muscles. They simply moved for him when he had the thought.
Sliding into the seat he offered, I folded my arms on the table and leaned forward. “So, Fulton, why’d you ask me to sit with you?”
“I just wanted to talk.” He took a sip of his coffee, those intense eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious about why you would be working here if you’re so unhappy?”
My spine shot up straight. My eyeballs just about fell out of my eyes from how wide open they’d flown. “What?”
“It’s quite clear that you don’t enjoy your job, so I was wondering why you would stay.”
I was practically gawking at him now, an unfamiliar flush rising up my neck to my cheeks. I hadn’t realized I was that obvious, but I also wasn’t one to back down. Steeling my shoulders, I lifted my chin.
“It’s a job. It pays my expenses.” I chewed the inside of my lip for a moment, wondering how much to tell him. His eyes on mine were unwavering, looking at me like he was curious and expecting me to say more.
My head tilted. I watched him as intently as he was doing to me while I made my decision about whether or not to keep talking. “Why do you want to know?”
He lifted his shoulders, the corners of his mouth rising. “I’m nosy like that.”
“No, you’re not.” I didn’t know how I knew, but I just couldn’t see him being nosy. He looked too … busy. Not that he was doing anything at the moment, but something about him screamed I’m important. “Unless you’re about to tell me you ask all your waitresses the same question.”
“I don’t.” The admission was simple and plainly stated. “To be fair, though, my waitresses also don’t usually glare daggers at me for daring to sit down in their sections.”
A surprised laugh escaped me. My hand flew to my mouth to cover it up, but it was too late. Busted. “Are you going to tell the manager?”
“Nope.” Amusement shone from those eyes, an almost exact match to the glittering water of the ocean outside. “But I am curious.”
“Fine.” I relaxed back in my seat. “I moved to town with my friends a few months ago. We’re all pitching in to cover the expenses of our place, so I couldn’t really do nothing when they both got jobs here. It’s not exactly my dream job, but it is a job.”
Holding my gaze, he inclined his head as if to say he understood and sipped his coffee. “Where are your friends today?”
He looked around the dining room, his eyes narrowing in confusion when he saw there were no other waitresses around. “I’m down to one friend, but she isn’t here today.”
Seeing he was about to ask more questions, I decided it was time to turn the tables. Sharing with strangers wasn’t really my thing, so I figured I’d said enough for now. “What about you?”
“What about me?” His gaze had returned to mine, holding me captive with just how gorgeous and expressive they were. “I’m an open book, ask me anything.”
“Are you from around here?”
He shook his head no. “I’m just here for a couple of weeks.”
“Open book, huh?” I arched an eyebrow, fighting a smile. “Open books tend to have more words in them than that, in my experience. What are you here for?”
“Work.”
Just as I was about to deliver my retort, I heard my name being called. The manager gave me a look that meant business, jerking her head to another table that had just filled up. Pressing my palms against the tabletop, I stood. “Well, Mr. Vague, it was nice to meet you, but I’m afraid duty calls. I’ll be back to take your order soon.”
“It didn’t call very loudly.” He gave me a half-smile, but then nodded. “It was nice to meet you, too, Valerie.”
Fulton ordered his lunch when I eventually made my way back to the table, but we didn’t have time to talk again. Pity.
The dude was hot, if a little intense. I wouldn’t have minded getting to know him, perhaps even getting his number. I’d bet it could have been fun trying to get him to loosen up a little, maybe try to see if I could get him to relinquish some of that control he oozed.
As it turned out, it wasn’t to be. By the time I got back to his table, after delivering his check, the folder was lying on it, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Hoping I hadn’t just been stiffed with the bill, my jaw dropped after I picked up the faux-leather folder and saw a stack of notes waiting inside.
It was way more than his total. Picking up the bills, I noticed a note written in neat, block lettering at the top of his check.
“Valerie, take this money for yourself and find something you want to do.”
Blinking as my eyebrows rose in surprise, I counted the money. He’d left me a thousand dollars. A one-thousand-dollar tip? What the fuck? It wasn’t like I’d blown him or anything, Jesus.
The manager sidled up to me, so I quickly pocketed the tip and handed the folder containing his payment for his meal over to her. “Who was that? Do you know?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m a bit of a fan of the financial news and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that face in it before,” she said.
“You have?” I frowned, wondering who the hell he was that she’d have seen him in the news. Also, who was a fan of the financial news cycle? Boring. “He said his name was Fulton.”
“Ah.” She brightened, a rare smile crossing her features as a flush colored her cheeks. Whoever he was, it was clear she was having a bit of a fangirl moment. Wait, not girl. Fan woman moment?
Ugh. She was staring at the door, this dreamy, swoony look on her face. I snapped my fingers in front of her. “And, who was that?”
“That, my dear, was Fulton Yates.” Her tone suggested that I should know him by name, but I didn’t.
