by M. Clarke
“The second waitress will start on Monday. Her name is—” I felt my face flush a little, “—Josie.” Saying her name made me feel light as a feather. I tried not to smile too big.
“How about the manager position?” Debbie looked concerned. Her tone suddenly became a bit more serious.
“No one yet. But I think you should take it.” I looked at her deeply, trying to convey my words. Being that she knew the place inside and out—not to mention, her being the employee who had been with the restaurant the longest—she was the most logical candidate for me, despite the fact that she wasn’t experienced with the financial side of the business.
“Your mom has asked me before, but I don’t feel qualified. You need to ask someone younger, with more energy. It’s too much for this old lady to handle. I just want to cuddle up on my sofa with my dog and watch my shows after work. I’ll have long hours if I’m the manager. Anyway, your interviewee is waiting in your office.”
I looked at my watch. It was five minutes before ten. I couldn’t recall having an interview. It was a good thing I’d come a little bit earlier. Debbie stared at me, waiting for me to say something or move my ass to the office, but I just stood there, looking dumbfounded and tried to pull up the schedule in my head.
“What are you going to do, interview her from here without looking at her?” Debbie gripped my shoulders and turned me around so I was facing the office, and shoved me. “Now get.”
Once I stepped into the office, I saw the back of the girl’s head. She looked very familiar. Then it hit me all at once. But it couldn’t be? Could it? “Josie?” I went around to the desk, staring at her in shock.
“Surprise.” She shrugged her shoulders, giving me the most amazing smile.
Damn, she looked great. All dressed up in a dark-gray skirt, she wore a white button-up blouse. Her hair was tied up with loose curls dangling down by her ears, and her long sexy legs were crossed. The black spiky high heels made her outfit even more alluring.
Finding my chair and sitting down—before I lost my footing from gawking at her—I asked, “What are you doing here? I mean, I’m happy to see you. Is there someone else in here?” I rambled, glancing around, thinking what a dork I was. Of course there was no one else there. I wanted to smack myself in the head for that. “Debbie, one of the waitresses, told me I had a ten o’clock waiting for me.”
“I’m your ten o’clock, Seth.” Her words came out smoothly, like icing on a cake. She was so hot that her words could burn right through me.
I picked up the water bottle from my desk, took a few gulps hoping to cool myself off. Shifting in my seat, I didn’t know where to place my hands. Josie’s amused smile was sending all sorts of kinky thoughts and shock waves through me. “So…when I said to come work for me, I didn’t mean to come for an interview. You’ve already got the job.”
“I know, Mr. Stewart.” Josie leaned back into her seat, looking confident. Her crossed legs slightly rocked up and down. My eyes followed her movement, then went higher up her thighs. It was too hot in here. Her steady, yet heated, tone, and calling me by my last name as if to role-play, sent another animated rise through me. Taking another sip of water, I almost knocked it down when placing it back on the table.
“Are you nervous, Mr. Stewart?” She smirked. Her eyes were beaming playfully.
“No, not at all.” My pitch came off higher than I had expected, and I was upset with myself. I had to fix that. “I mean—” I cleared my throat. Two can play at this game, I thought. I squared my shoulders and sat up tall. “So, Josefina Anders, let me ask you some questions before I decide if I want to hire you.”
Her brows lifted, most likely wondering if I was being serious or joking. Dropping her crossed leg, she pulled the chair closer to the table. Josie pulled a piece of paper out of an envelope that I hadn’t seen a second ago, tucked away behind her back. She placed a resume on my desk. “Ask away.”
“How long have you been a waitress?”
“As long as I can remember. I got hired right after high school.” She pointed to her resume. “You can see that I’ve only worked at a few places, but I’m loyal and a good employee.”
“You’ve been a waitress for a long time, Ms. Anders. Do you think you’ll ever get sick of it?”
“Not if it means I get to see Mr. Stewart.” Her lips curled wickedly.
“Do you wear thongs or granny panties?”
Josie’s lips puckered, stopping herself from busting up. “Mostly thongs, but I’m not wearing anything under my skirt at the moment.”
Holy shit! I was trying to make her blush, but this was backfiring. Ignoring her last words, though it was extremely difficult to do, since all I could do was envision her with her skirt off, I continued, “Do you like to be on top or bottom?”
“I will be in whatever position pleases Mr. Stewart. I’m very flexible.”
My lips twitched and it took every ounce of my willpower to stop laughing. We were enjoying this way too much. “Are you on the pill?”
“Yes.”
“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”
“About six months ago.”
“How many boyfriends have you had?”
“Mr. Stewart, don’t you think these questions are inappropriate? I don’t think I’ve ever been asked these questions before on my interviews. Are these questions standard for all employees, or just to me?”
I cocked a brow at her with a lecherous grin. “What do you think, Ms. Anders? Now…are you going to answer the last question?”
“Last question?”
“Yes, last question.”
“I’ve only had three boyfriends. The first one was in sixth grade. I loved him very much. Even though we were in sixth grade, and even though we were young, he was my anchor, my strength, and my rock, but he never knew it.” There was sadness in her tone, but it quickly changed. “But at the same time, he was clumsy and goofy.”
I narrowed my eyes at her and drank in her words. “Tell me, Ms. Anders. What happened to that wonderful sweet romance of your lifetime? Why didn’t you come back to school the next day? I’m a hundred percent sure that boy was heartbroken.”
Josie closed her eyes, tipped her head lower, and then looked up with a faint smile. “I will tell him when I’m ready.”
“Fair enough.” I felt my muscles ease. I had no idea how tight my body was until I leaned back into my chair. “My interview is over. Do you have any questions for me?”
Josie stood up. She looked taller with her heels. Her long legs looked silky to touch, and I could imagine myself doing it right now. Not just her legs but every inch of her body. Recalling the night in my dad’s garage, I realized that scenario had replayed in my mind constantly. I couldn’t shake it.
“Mr. Stewart, how much do you pay your waitresses?”
“I pay your standard hourly rate, and you get to keep all the tips.”
Josie frowned, biting her lips. “Do you pay overtime?”
“Yes. Would you like to sit down?”
She didn’t answer me. “Do you provide insurance for your employees?”
“Only for full-time.”
My heart started hammering when her body swayed slowly, sensually toward me while her eyes pierced through mine with a purpose. Feasting on her, my eyes trailed to every womanly curve on her body, and I imagined my hands running freely. I gasped inwardly and erotic heat shot to my body when she unbuttoned a couple of buttons of her blouse, revealing her beautiful cleavage.
“I think I would like to work here, Mr. Stewart.” Her tone was playful and full of mischief. “Maybe we can work out a deal.”
I was tongue-tied and my jaw dropped when she pulled up her skirt that conformed to her hips and then climbed onto me. Her knees anchored on either side of the cushion, and she reached her hands to the back of the chair to steady herself. The scent of roses rushed through my senses, filling me up. She always smelled so good.
With a huge satisfied grin on my
face, my hands wrapped around her to keep her from falling, right on her bare ass…so soft…so tight…so perfect. Heat exploded from my hands, going up my arms, and right through every inch of me. She was not joking when she said she had nothing underneath. I loved the sweet side of Josie, but I had to admit, I loved this playful side of her too.
“Ms. Anders, you have a perfect perky ass,” I said, massaging her buttocks, savoring this moment.
Josie sat down lower, her body pressed into mine. She nipped at my ear and said, “I know. So do you. I want to touch it just like you’re touching mine.”
When she pulled away to look at me, our eyes locked and thousands of emotions rocketed through me. I felt so much, almost too much for my heart to handle—for my body to control. My hands glided up her back, and the soft silky blouse lured me to rip it off her. Lacing through her hair with my hands, I gave in to the temptation I could no longer control and kissed her with madness. Josie kissed me back and her tongue swirled in hunger. I got hard when she rocked back and forth on me. I thought I could come just from this motion alone. I wanted so much of Josie, but not here—not now.
Josie quivered in my arms and started to press and rock harder. When a loud growl escaped me, she ran her hands along my chest. “Seth—I mean, Mr. Stewart, you have the sexiest chest I’ve ever seen.” Hot puffs of air from her mouth grazed along my neck. She had no idea she had sent me to another level of intensity.
I didn’t know what I was thinking actually; I wasn’t thinking with my head. A sharp gasp escaped Josie’s mouth when I lifted her up with my hands on her ass and placed her on the table. Luckily there was only a water bottle there, which I easily knocked over, and few folders to my left that I pushed off. Placing her down, her back against the wooden desk, I kissed her hurriedly, like I couldn’t get enough. With one hand supporting her neck, my other hand found her clit.
“Seth,” she moaned.
My mind told me to stop. This was not the place, and I hadn’t locked the door. Knowing they would knock before entering gave me peace of mind, but still—this was not professional. Oh hell, my mom owned this restaurant. Brushing the thought away, I continued rubbing her, and dropped my head to kiss along the buttons of her blouse. But how the hell had Josie unzipped my pants without me knowing?
The room spun, and I was entirely unglued. Her hand on my dick was a wakeup call for me to pull away, but I couldn’t do it. Stop, I demanded myself.
“Josie…we need to stop. Push me away,” I managed to say with ragged breath.
“Oh God! Seth. I want you so bad.”
“No, no, no. Not here,” I panted.
I stopped touching her, but my cheek was still pressed to her blouse. Feeling her chest rise and fall and hearing our hearts race helped me to calm. We stayed like that for a little while, until almost back to the normal rate. After helping Josie up, I embraced her. She felt so good and perfect in my arms, I never wanted to let her go.
“Ms. Anders, you’re very convincing. You’re definitely hired,” I said, holding in my laugh.
With our bodies still pressed together, we let out a chuckle, until the sound of someone knocking startled us. We separated like there was a fire between us.
“Not now,” I said aloud, zipping up my pants. “I’m almost done with this interview.”
“Your eleven o’clock appointment is here,” Debbie’s voice rumbled through the door.
“Tell her to wait by the bar, please.”
I knew Debbie got the message when there was no word from her. Josie did a great job straightening out her clothes and her hair, considering how much my hands had been all over her. After she looked presentable, she turned to me, lightly stabbing her finger to my chest. “Well, Mr. Stewart. This was a very interesting interview. I hope none of your other interviews are conducted this way.” Her tone came off as firm but soft.
I raked my hair back. “I’ve never ever had an interview like the one I had with you. It was quite entertaining. The type that I promise I won’t conduct without you.”
She rewarded me with her to-die-for smile. “Good. I’ll see you Saturday. Then I’ll see you Monday. I can’t wait to work here.”
I gave her a crooked grin. “I can’t either. We can take lunch breaks together, but not in the office.” I chuckled. “It’s a dangerous place for the both of us.”
“Maybe I like danger.” She leaned into me.
“You’re very tempting, Ms. Anders. A temptation I don’t mind giving in to. But now—you need to leave this interview.” I turned her about with my hands on her shoulders. As I lightly smacked her ass, she jerked forward, taking a few steps.
She looked over her shoulder, giving me the sexiest smirk. “See you in couple of days, Mr. Stewart.”
“You mean tomorrow?”
“Oh.” She stiffened. “I forgot to tell you. I have to work. I’ll have to take a rain check. Sorry. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” I frowned.
“Seth.” My name rang from her lips like sweet music. Her gaze fell to my pants with a giggle. “Might want to make sure you’re sitting during your interview, Mr. Stewart.”
My lips twitched as I fought not to laugh. “I’ll call you later,” I said, watching her walk out and close the door behind her.
CHAPTER 25
Josie
I had been so happy since Seth came back into my life, floating on air, especially since it seemed we’d become more than friends. But my elations suddenly turned sour at the thought of going back home, yet here I was, all because Mom said she was sick. I knew this was her way to lure me back into her life, but I went anyway.
Turning off the engine, I got out of the car with aching dread. The darkness of the night didn’t help either. I suddenly felt like a child again, a child that was so scared—so terrified when she got in her mood. And even as an adult, I trembled at the sight of my house. Shack was more like it. It was our second home, the house we had moved away to, taking me away from Seth. The house that was supposed to be my home, my warmth, my security, was my hell. Satan was an angel compared to my mom.
Holding the key in my hand, I opened the door. Before I had left my apartment, I texted Mom to let her know I was on my way. Whether she got the message or not, I didn’t know since she didn’t text back, but I wanted to get this visit over with once and for all. I lied to Seth, though I didn’t think there was any harm in that. It wasn’t like I was with another guy. When I was ready, and if our relationship grew to something more, I would have to tell him my awful truth.
The first whiff of home smelled like something rotting, and I cringed from the darkness. Mom always closed the blinds, never letting the sun through. It was well over ninety degrees today, and it was still hot in the evening. I could tell she hadn’t turned on the air conditioner just from how hot and humid the air felt inside the house.
“Mom?” I called softly, clicking the light switch by the door, but the light never came on. Strange. I flicked it again, but nothing. Seeing soft light peeking out below my mom’s bedroom door, I knew where she was. Why she didn’t come out to greet me, I had no idea. Not that I expected a hug, but a greeting when I entered would have been sufficient.
I gasped when the surrounding candlelight gave me a view of the house. Dirty paper plates and used cups, trash, and dirty clothes were piled on the coffee table and sofas. This place looked like it belonged to a hoarder. Walking in farther, I turned to see an even greater mess. I was quite surprised. Mom had OCD, this I knew for sure, and it was evident when I opened her bedroom door. Her room was the same—polished, and not a perfume bottle out of place. When it came to her things, she kept them spotless.
Many times I had cried in her room, and being back there again gave me a bitter taste in my mouth. Glancing around, it looked like the bed was made, which I was not surprised about, but I thought it was strange for her not to be in her room. Maybe she went out. Maybe she never got my text. Possible reasons filtered through my mind until I heard a sound coming
from inside my room. That was where I headed next.
The door was slightly ajar. Why I couldn’t see the light seeping under the door was beyond me. “Mom?” I gave the door a slight shove.
Mom looked pale, like she hadn’t seen the sun in months, or was it the candlelight that made her look that way? Her eyes were sunken and her cheekbones were more apparent. It looked like she had lost weight. Though I knew she was my mom, I didn’t recognize her at first glance.
I took a step in and called to her a little louder when she didn’t respond, “Mom.”
Sitting on my bed, she slowly peered up. She looked straight at me, but it seemed like she was looking through me. “Josefina? Is that really you? Have you come home?”
I didn’t recognize her voice either, so soft and tender. It was not the tone I was used to. “Yes, it’s me.” Bracing myself for her voice to get louder and be judgmental, I took a step back.
Mom continued to meet my gaze. “How long has it been since I saw you? I stopped counting the days.”
Really? I didn’t believe her. And I refused to believe the liquid clouding her eyes. Her tears were fake. She was trying to make me feel guilty. She would do anything to make it look like it was my fault. I was a fool to believe that she was sick. I crossed my arms in annoyance and said, “I told you I wasn’t going to take it anymore. I told you unless you got help, I would leave, and I did. It was your fault for not believing me. It was your fault that I stayed away for a year.”
“A year? It seemed like forever.” When her lips quivered and her tears streamed down from her eyes, I felt no sympathy—I didn’t feel anything. There was a long stretch of silence, and just before I was about to turn to leave, she spoke again, “I’m sick.”
There was truth and conviction in her words. “How sick are you? What’s wrong?” I sounded concerned, but a part of me didn’t give a shit. An evil part of me thought she deserved all the bad things happening to her. Maybe it was good for me to hear her worst fear happening to her. Would that make me feel better? Would all those torturous years go away? But then I thought about some of the sweet things Mom had done for me. As rare as those moments were, there were a handful. It was human nature to dwell on the bad and easily forget the good, so I tried to draw energy and strength from the positive.