by C. Morgan
If things went well, I wouldn’t need to worry about driving back to my place. Although I knew this could all be a game for her. I didn’t care. I didn’t mind being used. I didn’t think it would be so bad to be used by a woman like her.
Chapter 12
Amara
Kerri was staring at me when I turned around. She had a hand on one slim hip and was tapping her foot. “What did I just witness?” she asked.
I innocently shrugged a shoulder. “You witnessed me talking to a man.”
“What is happening in two hours? I know we don’t need lobster and I know he isn’t going out in this storm.”
“I’m going to make him dinner,” I replied.
Her eyes narrowed. “Here? Like he is going to come back? Are we doing reservations?”
“Stop,” I said with a scowl.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the office. I supposed I should be glad she was going to lecture me in private instead of in front of my staff. It was hard enough trying to boss around people that were twice as old as I was with years more experience than I had.
“What are you doing?” she asked before the door was even closed.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Are you going out with him?”
“No, I said I’m making him dinner.”
“How long has this been going on?”
I felt like she had suddenly taken on the role of my mother. “There is nothing going on. Not yet anyway.”
“You can’t,” she said as she grabbed my shoulders.
“I can’t what?”
“Not Fulton.”
“What are you talking about? He’s a nice guy.”
She dropped her hands and rolled her eyes. “That is not the way anyone with ears and eyes describes Fulton. Ever. Not even the women he dates while they are dating him. No one will ever say Fulton is a nice guy.”
“Then they are not seeing the same man I see.”
“So, a thousand people are wrong, and you are right?”
I shrugged. “I suppose. Why are you being so hard on him? I thought you were friends with him?”
“No, no. Not friends. Acquaintances. I know of him through other people. I said he sold lobster. I told you he was rough around the edges. At no point did I ever say we were friends.”
“Okay, before you get those panties too bunched up, I invited him to dinner. I’m not saying anything will happen. I’m not sure I want that. There is just something about him that I like. I want to get to know him better. That’s all. I’m a big girl and I can handle myself.”
“Is that really a good idea?” she questioned.
“You are making a big deal out of nothing.”
“He’s technically your employee,” she pointed out.
“He is not an employee. He’s a vendor.”
“Same thing,” she said with an exaggerated sigh.
I cocked my head to the side, studying her closely. “Why are you so against me seeing him?”
“I’m not against it but I think you have to be careful.”
“Why?”
“Because, like I said, I know plenty of women that have gone out with him once or twice. They all think he’s great and then he just never calls them again. I would say at least half don’t like him.”
I could understand the jilted-lover thing. Been there, done that. “I am not trying to be his girlfriend.”
“You just want to bang him?”
I laughed. “I definitely didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what you want? A one-nighter?”
“You are getting way ahead of yourself,” I told her. “I’m not sure I want that. I’m not sure he wants that. Have you seen him? He probably goes out with models and hot biker chicks that wear leather and could be Playboy bunnies.”
She laughed. “Actually, some of them do look like that, but then again, they never got a second or third date.”
“Do I have your blessing then?”
She groaned. “You’re going to do it anyway. Just don’t ruin our lobster hookup.”
“That is the last thing I want to do.”
“Good, then make sure you think with your head and not your—”
“Stop!” I protested. “You are bad.”
“Honest. I’m being honest.”
“All right, I’m going to take care of a few things before I get out of here.”
“How’s the new place?” she asked as we walked to the stockroom together.
“I have only been in it for five minutes, enough to sleep there and that’s it. I’m hoping to get some time this week to unpack.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” she said. “But with the way things are going, the two of us are never going to be off at the same time for a while.”
“It’s going to get better. I think things are going great. I’ve heard of other restaurants bombing the first few days. We had some hiccups but nothing major. I’m so glad it was you here with me.”
“I’ve worked a few openings before. This has definitely been one of the smoother ones.”
“We make a good team,” I told her.
We worked together, checking stock and getting the kitchen ready for the dinner rush. I spent some time in the office, working on inventory and checking a few other things. When I was confident everything was set, I headed up front and found Kerri chatting with a customer. A very handsome customer.
“Are you out of here?” she asked.
“I am.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m not doing anything,” I insisted. “I’ve been away for a long time. You know I don’t exactly have a lot of friends. I have you and that’s it. It isn’t like I stayed in touch with anyone from school. The friends I had in college are scattered all over the world. I want to meet new people and start settling in. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life for this stage in my life. You know high school was miserable for me. College was okay, but this is what I’ve been waiting for. I want to be me, Amara Murdock, independent business owner.”
“I get it, but I can introduce you to other people.”
“Is he an ax murderer?” I asked.
She wrinkled her nose. “No.”
I studied her. “Have you slept with him?” I whispered.
“No!” she exclaimed. “Why would you ask that?”
“I don’t know. You are just being really weird about this.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are a good person. I know you aren’t the serial-sleeping-around type. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I told you this isn’t me sleeping around.”
She shook her head. “Not you, but him. If he hurts you, I’m going to have to kick his ass. I don’t see this ending well. No matter what, whether it’s him walking away, me kicking his ass away, or you dumping him, our lobster connection is going to dry up.”
I burst into laughter. “I see where your heart is.”
She grinned. “Well, I am the manager. I have to look out for the best interests of our restaurant. And of course, I am worried about you. I don’t want you to be hurt. You’re such a good person. I don’t want you to end up hating me because I introduced the two of you.”
“I won’t hate you and I would like to think I can keep things separate. I want to cook him dinner. I want to peel back the layers and find out why he is so surly. I think there has to be something or someone that happened to make him that way.”
“Do you want to save him?”
“Maybe.”
“All right, I will leave you to it.”
“Kerri,” I said when she moved to walk away. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “But let’s set up a code. If you text me the number one, that means you want me to call you and say there is an emergency at the restaurant and you have to come in right away.”
“I’m not going to text you,” I told her.
“You might,” she said with a laugh.
“I won’t,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster.
I walked out of the restaurant, telling myself it was okay. I knew Kerri was looking out for me. She had a good heart. She had been looking out for me for a long time.
It was funny. She was this pretty, unassuming girl that smiled a lot. She was funny and outgoing and was everyone’s friend. Until you crossed her, she was loyal to a fault. When she did find the man that could put a ring on her finger, I hoped he was ready for her love. Once she sank her teeth in, she wouldn’t let go. She was going to love him hard and the children he gave her even harder.
For now, I was going to cherish her while I had her. I drove to the grocery store to pick up what I would need for dinner. I was not going to make seafood. I had a feeling he was probably about sick of fish. I guessed him to be a carnivore. I was going to make him a traditional, manly meal. I made my way to the meat counter and picked up two steaks before adding the rest to my cart.
As I was checking out, the first sliver of apprehension snaked down my spine. Maybe Kerri was right. This could end up going badly. I wanted to think I could be cool and breezy and have a fling without my heart getting involved, but could I really?
I knew I wasn’t ready for a boyfriend. I did not want to get into a relationship with a man that would absolutely feel jilted and ignored when I paid more attention to my restaurant than him. Right now, my restaurant had to be my focus. I couldn’t afford to lose focus, even for a week or two while I had a wild love affair.
Fulton intrigued me. I was satisfying my curiosity. Nothing more. We’d talk, maybe kiss, and possibly, very slimly, maybe we’d have sex. If Kerri was right, I didn’t need to worry about Fulton being the kind of man that wanted to lock me down. I had to be okay with a fling. I would have to see him a few times a week and pretend nothing ever happened.
I could do it. I was strong and independent. I was a confident woman, living on her own and embracing her youth and freedom. If I kept saying it, eventually my brain would buy into it, right? I got to my building and pushed the button for the elevator.
“You’re new here,” a man said, coming to stand beside me.
“I am,” I answered, not wanting to give away too much information. I was young, but I wasn’t dumb or naïve.
“You single?”
I turned to look at him. “That’s bold.”
He grinned. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
My eyes dropped to his left hand. I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure your wife feels the same way.”
He didn’t look the least bit ashamed. “My wife is a very understanding woman.”
“Good for you.”
I walked away, deciding the four flights of stairs would be better than an elevator ride with him. He was a sleaze. I was afraid I would be contaminated by his grossness. By the time I made it to my apartment, I was huffing and puffing and sweating like a pig. I had to take a shower before my company arrived.
Because I wasn’t ruling anything out, I put on my sexy panties and bra. I wanted to wear something pretty and flirty, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. Unfortunately, everything was still packed. I was stuck with what I packed in my suitcase—jeans and an off-the-shoulder shirt. I put on a little makeup and pulled my hair up. Casual with just a touch of sexy—I hoped.
Chapter 13
Fulton
I checked the time. I was purposely running about five minutes late. I half-expected her to call me and cancel. I wouldn’t have accepted the rejection, but she was welcome to try. I wouldn’t let her nerves get the best of her. She and I were supposed to be together and I was going to make her see that. I had to doublecheck the address she gave me.
“What the hell?” I muttered as I realized her building was not the one I thought it was.
Her building was average. It wasn’t a slum, but it wasn’t one of the fancy places either. Stanley had to have gotten the wrong family name. There was no way she was the child of a billionaire. I felt a little better knowing our class differences weren’t quite that steep.
I waited for the elevator, carrying the two bottles under my arms. I knocked on the door and waited. When she opened the door, my first instinct was to grab her and push her up against the wall. I told myself I could wait a little longer.
“Hi,” she said.
I was glad I had changed. She’d obviously showered. I could smell her shampoo on her still damp hair. She’d showered for me. That was a definite sign she wanted me. “Hello.”
“You brought booze,” she said with a laugh.
I held up the bottles. “Wine for you and Jack for me.”
She grinned and took the bottle of Jack. “You can drink the wine. I could use a good shot of Jack.”
That was yet another sign things were going in the right direction. I followed her inside, closing the door behind me. The apartment was pretty standard. I was expecting marble floors and lots of white. That was not what I saw.
“Can I pour you a drink?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Ice?”
I shrugged. “Either way.”
“I think I have some glasses unpacked,” she said, opening one cupboard and then the next. “Okay, I don’t. They are around here somewhere.”
“I can drink straight from the bottle,” I offered.
“While that sounds charming, I think I can find them. Do you see a box labeled ‘kitchen’?”
I looked around. There were a lot of boxes. “There,” I said, spotting one next to a bookshelf in the living room.
“Ha! Great! Thank you.”
“I’ll grab it,” I told her.
I brought the box into the kitchen and set it down on the counter.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” she said as she opened the box. She pulled out several glasses wrapped in newspaper, unwrapped them, and rinsed them before pouring a little Jack in each. I immediately noticed the glasses were not some fancy crystal. They were mismatched, basic glasses that anyone could buy at Wal-Mart.
“It’s fine,” I told her and took a sip of the stout liquor.
“I just moved in and haven’t had time to do much of anything.”
“Moving sucks,” I commented.
“Have you moved a lot?”
I shrugged. “I’ve moved a few times.”
“I had a small apartment in New York. I don’t remember how all this stuff fit in it.”
I smirked. “I’ve thought that same thing myself.”
She moved the box to the floor and kicked it out of the way. “I’m making steaks and potatoes. Is that okay?”
“I’m not exactly picky.”
She was busy at the stove. I watched her move, watched her ass in those tight jeans. She looked very comfortable in the kitchen. She didn’t have any shoes on. She was barefoot in the kitchen and it was the sexiest thing I ever saw.
“I’m hoping to add steaks to our dinner menu, but I want to make sure my chef can handle it. I’ve done my research, and adding too much to the menu can be the very thing that destroys a restaurant.”
“Why don’t you cook them?”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “Why don’t we wait until after you’ve tasted my cooking before you say that?”
“I’ve had your cooking. It was good.”
“Thanks. I figured you were probably sick of seafood.”
She was right. “It’s not terrible but red meat does sound very good.”
“Do you do a lot of your own cooking?”
“I kind of have to if I want to eat,” I told her.
I watched as she chopped fresh chives. The smell was making my stomach growl. “Have you always been a fisherman?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Is it a family business?”
She was getting into dangerous territory. “It was. My dad had a boat. I went out with him from the time I could walk. He had a couple of b
ad seasons and then my mom died. He crawled into a bottle and fishing was no longer his priority. He lost his boat and passed away shortly after that. He just gave up on life.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You said you worked on a boat from the time you were fourteen.”
I liked that she paid attention. Most people, beyond Stanley, didn’t give two shits about me or my past. “I did. I worked to try and keep a roof over our heads.”
“Wow. I don’t even know what to say to that. You were so young.”
“Like my dad always said, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I feel pretty damn strong.”
“Yes, I would imagine so. You worked and saved for a boat and helped your father pay bills?”
“I did.”
She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at me. “I don’t want to pry, but did you go to school?”
I smirked. “I went to alternative school and got my GED at seventeen. You don’t need a college degree to run a boat.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean to sound like a snob.”
“You don’t. It’s fine. I’m not ashamed of it. I make a living and have never accepted a handout. A lot of guys are laborers. Without us, the world wouldn’t go around.”
“You are right.”
“What about you?” I asked, wondering if she would tell me who she really was—assuming Stanley was right.
“What about me?”
“You mentioned that you and your parents are close?”
“Yes. I’m one of those weird people that have an excellent relationship with both of my parents.”
“Were they the kind that coddled you?”
She once again turned to look at me. “Are you asking if I was spoiled?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
