“Where we going, Ham?”
“I have to grab some things from my apartment and then I’m taking you to stay with Uncle Wade.” His eyes darken and tears threaten. “I’ll be staying with you.” The tears vanish and he smiles at me. He’s a cute little kid. “I’ll have an uncle now you’re gonna be my pa?”
“Yep. He lives at the beach too.” Ooops. I realize when his eyes bug out that I’ve made a mistake.
“The beach. Can we swim every day we’re at Uncle Wade’s?”
Fuck. I can’t take him to a nude beach. “Maybe but he’s got a pool that’s even better than the beach.”
“Cool. I wanna swim in both but…”
“But, what.”
“I don’t know how to swim.”
I have my out. “I’ll teach you to swim in the pool. It’s too dangerous at the beach if you can’t swim. Okay?”
“Yep. When I can swim can we go to the beach?” Fuck. The kid’s like a dog with a fuckin’ bone.
“We’ll see.” I head upstairs to my apartment and set the kid on the floor so I can unlock the door. He follows me inside, sweeps the remote control off the coffee table and, plonks himself on the couch. The television springs to life. I watch as the kid flicks from one channel to another. He stops on a documentary. Funny, now I think about it. The kid never watches shit like cartoons.
I go into the kitchen drop my helmet and bag on the table and take off my jacket. The fridge is stocked so I take out bread, sliced roast beef, tomato and lettuce. I make a couple of sandwiches for the kid and pour him a glass of milk.
“Here you go. I’ll be in the bedroom. I have to pack some shit and make a phone call.”
“Okay, Ham.”
He picks up the plate and starts hoeing into his sandwich. I feel guilty that I didn’t make the time to come here and feed him last night. He probably hasn’t eaten for a couple of days. No more. From now on, he’ll have three good meals a day. I’m determined to have him looking and feeling healthy.
I walk into my bedroom, close the door and sit on the bed. I pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans and punch in Wade’s number.
“Ham. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“She’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?”
“The kids’ mother.”
“Fuck. How? When?”
“Cops said it was drugs. I told ‘em I was Jonesy’s pa.” There’s a long silence at the other end of the phone.
“Are you sure you want to do this? You’ll have to curtail your lifestyle. You can’t have a constant parade of women in the apartment with a kid there and you won’t be able to go out every night.”
“Positive. I never let women come to my home and I don’t mind if I can’t go out all the time. I can’t let someone else have him.”
“Okay. Do you need me to help?”
“Can we stay with you for a few days while I look for an apartment?”
“You know you can.”
“Thanks. I’ve gotta throw some shit in a bag and I’ll be over.”
“Ham?”
“Yeah?”
“How are you gonna get the kid and a bag here on your motorcycle?”
“Fuck. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Wait there. I’ll come and get the kid and your stuff. You can ride over.”
“Thanks, Wade.”
I disconnect the call and go back to the living room. The kid’s plate and glass are empty and he’s fast asleep. I’m gonna have to come up with a name for him. I can’t keep calling him Jonesy or kid. I mull it over and decide on Steve.
While he’s sleeping and I’m waiting, I throw some clothes and other stuff I’ll need, into my bag. I call Leon, I need time off. I’ve never asked for time off before.
“Leon Fitzroy.”
He sounds gruff, annoyed about something. “Leon, it’s Hamish.”
“Hi, Hamish. What can I do for you?”
“I need a couple of weeks off. Jonesy’s mom is dead and I’m gonna keep him. I need to find a new apartment and get him settled with school and stuff.”
“Oh.”
Something is wrong. I can sense it. “Problem?”
“There might be. The restaurant has been sold to Miss Cartwright and she wants to meet with staff this week. Her first meeting was this morning. I was about to call you and ask you to come in at nine in the morning so she could meet with you and the others that weren’t in today.”
“Tell her I can’t make it.” Fuck, I knew that bitch was gonna screw up my life. She’ll probably fire me now. I’m not worried, I have enough money to get me through for a few years and I’m confident that I’ll find another job in a couple of weeks. It’s just, I love it at Leon’s and working with Wade.
“I don’t know if she’ll be happy about that.”
“Well if she doesn’t, fuck it. I’m not coming in. I have a little boy who needs me and I’m not gonna let him down. Tell her, I quit.”
“Now, hang on. Don’t go all feral on me. I’ll explain the situation and I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”
“Leon, you don’t explain shit to her. My private life is my own. I chose to tell you because I respect you and you have allowed me to feed him for the past eighteen months. It’s none of her goddamn business. Just tell her I need two weeks off for personal reasons. If she’s not happy with that I’ll find somewhere else. It’s not up for negotiation.”
“I’ll tell her but she won’t be happy about it. Not so soon after buying. I will also tell her you have never asked for time off and I still owe you at least twenty weeks of holidays.”
“Fuck, they add up?”
“Yes, they do.”
“That many?”
“Yes. You’ve taken eight weeks off in seven years. Four weeks a year over seven years is twenty eight weeks. Hence, twenty weeks are left.”
“After I sort this mess out, I might take the kid on a vacation. Maybe when school is done for the year.”
“It’s your choice. You have every right to take your annual leave whenever you want provided it’s not a busy holiday period.”
“I understand. So, the bitch owns the restaurant. That was quick.”
“I guess she wanted it pretty bad or rather, wanted you, I suspect. She paid cash and the legal papers are being finalized as we speak. And, Hamish?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t call her a bitch. She’s a savvy businesswoman who knows what she wants. She is giving everyone a five percent raise.”
“Not bad considering we only had a pay rise a couple of months ago.”
“She fired the manager and Head Chef at Cleo’s.”
“Fuck, she won’t move me there will she?”
“I don’t think so but I’m not privy to what she’s going to do.”
“What about the name?”
“She’s keeping it. She thinks clientele will accept the new ownership better if the name stays the same.”
Wade’s just walked through the door. I nod and wrap up the phone call.
“I gotta go, Leon but I’ll talk to you soon. Let me know what the bi…, Miss Cartwright, says so I know if I have to start looking for a new job.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. If you don’t hear from me, Wade will let you know when to go back in.”
“Thanks, for everything. Enjoy your retirement.” I hang up before he can say anything else.
“Ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I point to my bag near the door.
“What about the kid?”
“Steve. He’s got nothing. I’m gonna take him out tomorrow and buy what he needs, some toys and books.”
“Steve?”
“His real name is Steven Jones. I decided he’s starting his new life as Steve.”
“Okay.”
“I move over to the couch and lift Steve into my arms. He stirs slightly and opens his eyes before cuddling into my chest.”
“I’ll bring him down if you can take my b
ag.”
Wade picks up my bag as I grab my helmet and keys from the table. I follow him out not bothering to lock the door. The kids will realize I’m gone when I don’t come back for a week or so and they’ll come looking to see what I’ve left behind. They can have it. The only half decent thing I own is the television and it’s always trying to shit itself. I can afford to buy new stuff for our next apartment.
Wade unlocks his BMW and I sit Steve on the back seat and strap him in. He wakes up and I can see the panic in his eyes. “Uncle Wade is taking you to his place. I’ll follow on my bike.”
“Okay. Hi, Uncle Wade.”
“Hi Steve. You’re gonna come and stay with me, I hear.”
“And, Ham. I mean, Pa. Uncle Wade, why did you call me Steve instead of Jonesy?”
“Your Pa said you need a little boy’s name now you’re going to be living with him.”
The kid looks at me with so much love. I can feel the fuckin’ lump in my throat.
“I like Steve, Pa. What’s your last name?”
“Masters.”
“I’m gonna be, Steve Masters.”
I’m fuckin’ bursting with happiness. I can’t believe this kid wants to have my name. Wade shoots me a glance and I see the warning in his eyes but I don’t understand. He knows, I don’t.
“We’ll talk at my place, Ham.”
I kiss Steve’s forehead and ruffle his long hair. That’s something else he’s gonna get, a haircut. I close the car door and walk to my bike as Wade pulls away.
Chapter Eight
BLOSSOM
I’ve organized chefs to cover Roberto’s shifts for the next two weeks. The Agency assured me the staff they are sending won’t let me down. I have also enrolled Desiree in a Management course part time and I will also mentor her myself. It’s shortly before three and I’m expecting the locksmith at any moment. Right on cue, Desiree appears in my doorway.
“Miss Cartwright, the locksmith is here.”
I stand up from behind the desk. “Thank you. Can I have a coffee before you leave and a word with you, please? Make yourself one too. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Sure.”
I head out to where two men holding toolboxes are standing near our doors. I notice how spotless the restaurant is and smile. Most of the staff have left but I hear pots clatter in the kitchen as the chefs finish off. They were one short for lunch today but tonight they will be at full strength.
I walk over to the men and introduce myself. “I’m Miss Cartwright. Thank you for coming out so promptly. As you can see, the restaurant is pretty much deserted now except for a couple of staff members who are finishing the clean up.”
The taller man speaks. I’m Barry and this is Tony, Miss Cartwright. We’ll get started right away.”
They show me where the pad will be outside the staff door. The front door will require a key if opened from outside but can be opened from inside with a code. Desiree and I will be the only one with a key. The other staff will enter by the staff door only. I will inform the evening shift when they come in and the day shift tomorrow will be met by Desiree.
“Can you show me where the security system set up is please?”
“I lead Barry to the room near my office and show him the panel.”
“It’s rather antiquated, isn’t it?”
“I guess so. I’ve only owned the place for six months.”
“I can set a code system in place but I’ll need to upgrade some of the components.”
“Do whatever you need to. I’ll be in my office next door if you need me for anything.”
“Thank you.”
I leave him in the security room and go back to my office. Desiree has placed a steaming hot mug of coffee on my desk and she’s sitting in a chair sipping one of her own. “Thank you for the coffee and for waiting.”
“I don’t mind. It was busy again.”
“Is the restaurant always so busy or is it usually quiet?”
“It’s normally busy. It’s pretty rare for the restaurant not to be full. Fortunately, the other chefs have been able to prevent food from Roberto going out to the diners. He spent most of his time locked in here with Darren. You would have had a hell of a lot more complaints if he’d been cooking when he was supposed to.”
“I took my eye off the ball with this, didn’t I?”
Desiree shrugs her shoulders. “How long did this go on for?”
“Only since Roberto came three months ago.”
I’m beginning to understand. The blood in my veins feels like ice. The restaurant books showed it was reasonably profitable. It’s why I went ahead and purchased it. I wanted one of my restaurants in the city where I live. Unlike Leon’s, I changed the name of this one. There was no emotional reason not to. Since I’ve had it the figures have been ordinary, although it has made a small profit.
I employed Darren when I bought the place as he had excellent references. Then, three months ago my Head Chef quit, suddenly. Darren immediately suggested Roberto who also had excellent references. Now I’m suspecting they were all false. It was the beginning of a downturn. The restaurant started showing a loss and although I haven’t had many complaints, I suspected it was to do with the Chef. When I confronted Darren a couple of days ago about his performance, he became agitated and aggressive. He insisted it was nothing to do with his management but the inferiority of the staff. He wanted changes made. We had words and from there it was all downhill.
“Well, the problem is solved now. I wanted to tell you, I have enrolled you in a management course which starts next week. It’s part time so roster yourself on in the restaurant to allow for your classes.”
“Miss Cartwright, I don’t know a thing about rosters.”
“Starting tomorrow evening, I’ll teach you. You’ll be working alongside me now so I can teach you about your new role.”
“That will leave the restaurant down a senior waitress.”
“I’ll see what I can do to get the others to cover or I’ll get an agency waitress until I can hire one.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“One other thing. Do you record all the diners in the front log book?”
“Yes we do, along with table numbers. We have also been recording the total bill and table number in a separate book at the cash register. Only for the past three months though.”
I’m shocked. “Why would you do that? Darren recorded the receipts in a journal.”
“I suspect Darren hasn’t been doing that. I don’t know why, I had a feeling he wasn’t honest and so I started the book in case my gut was proved right. You suspect him of stealing, don’t you?”
This girl is extremely perceptive and will be a valuable, loyal employee. “Yes, I do but I can’t understand how he did it. My accountant did an audit only two weeks ago. He didn’t report anything out of place.”
“Would you like my book?”
“Yes, I would. Is there a way the cash register can print off daily takings?”
“Not this one. It’s old and dated. You would only have the receipt that’s duplicated after the customer is given their copy. With a new one, you could get a print out at the end of each shift. Any discrepancy would be shown immediately. The only way you wouldn’t know would be if a total was deliberately not rung up. It couldn’t be done with credit cards but a lot of our diners still pay cash and most don’t bother to wait for a receipt. It would be easy to pocket it if someone was dishonest.”
“Your first job will be to order a new register and I want a camera installed that will record activity at the register. I don’t want the employees to know they’re being recorded. I don’t want them to think I don’t trust them.”
“They wouldn’t mind, Miss Cartwright. Darren and Roberto were the only dishonest employees you had. The rest are loyal. They wouldn’t steal, I give you my word.”
“Very well. Order the new register and we’ll only install the camera if we do have issues.”
“Yes
ma’am.”
“I think that’s all for now. Thank you. I look forward to working with you. You’re going to be an excellent manager.”
Desiree smiles at the compliment before leaving the office.
***
I leave Cleo’s later that evening satisfied that everything has been taken care of. The codes have been given to select staff who need to arrive first for their shift. The others will be given access by them. It will help maintain the security.
I’m hungry and my belly rumbles as I commence the walk home. My apartment is situated a couple of blocks from each of my restaurants. Very convenient but I don’t want a full meal this evening. I’ll settle for something microwaved or a salad so I can relax and watch some television while I eat. My mind wanders to Hamish as I negotiate the crowds of people on the sidewalk who are rushing to go who knows where.
I wonder if Hamish will be at Leon’s for tomorrow’s meeting. He’s due back tomorrow for the lunch shift. My pussy clenches as I picture his tall, slender body. I’m aching to know if he has the muscles I think he has under his shirt. What I wouldn’t give to run my fingers over him, feel his hard cock in my hands, have him suck at my pussy.
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and several people curse as they almost crash into me. What the fuck am I thinking? Why am I fantasizing about a man who is a complete stranger? I shake my head, as if the motion will vanish the foolish thoughts, and resume walking.
My panties are wet and the cool evening air wafts up my skirt cooling my overheated pussy. The sensation sends tingles through my body and makes me even hornier. Big Daddy will get a strenuous work out tonight.
I’ve just entered my apartment when I hear my phone ringing. I dig it out of the depths of my purse and answer.
“Blossom Cartwright.”
“Miss Cartwright, Leon Fitzroy.”
“Mr. Fitzroy. I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“I’m sorry but I’ve had a call from Hamish Masters.”
I collapse onto the couch. An ominous feeling of disaster washes over me. “He’s leaving.” I whisper into the phone. Maybe I think if Leon doesn’t hear me, it won’t be true. I feel sick.
“Not necessarily. He’s had some personal business come up which he has to attend to. He’s taking two weeks off.”
Born To Sin (Born #1) Page 7