Born To Sin (Born #1)

by A. L. Simpson

  The streets are busy with early morning shoppers and I weave my way through them until I arrive at Cleo’s. The door has been replaced and a new lock installed. The key I received opens the door and I step inside. My once vibrant, busy restaurant is now a mere shell. I have a meeting with my designer. I have outlined what I would like and I know he will follow my guidelines closely. I have worked with Owen before and his work is exceptional. He arrives ten minutes after me.

  “Owen, come on in.”

  He looks around and observes the damage. The broken light fittings, torn wallpaper, holes in walls. Even though the broken furniture has all been removed, the place is still a fucking mess.

  “Blossom. They certainly wrecked the place.”

  “You should have been here yesterday. There was not a stick of unbroken furniture.” I take him through to my office and we sit. “Tea, coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I have another meeting down town. Tell me what you want. Do you want me to recreate it as it was or do you have changes in mind?”

  “Do you know Leon’s?”

  “Yes. Subtle, grey, pale rose, accents of white and mood lighting.”

  “I want the same here at Cleo’s. I own Leon’s now and I’d like the restaurants to be similar even though I’m not changing the name.”

  “I’ll go by later today and make some notes. When do you want me to start?”

  “As soon as you can. I don’t want to have it closed for longer than is necessary.”

  “I understand. It should be done in two weeks.”

  “Thank you. That’s excellent. If there is anything you need, give me a call.” We both stand and I lead Owen from my office. “Thanks once again. I’ll talk with you soon.”

  “Thanks, Blossom. I’ll be in touch.”

  I walk out with him and lock the door behind us. As he heads downtown, I head in the opposite direction to Leon’s. And, Hamish.

  ***

  I hear sounds in the kitchen as I step through the front door of Leon’s. My heart skips a beat when I hear the deep, rich laughter that I know is coming from Hamish. It takes me mere moments to push through the swinging door into the kitchen. The aroma is mouthwatering. Both men turn to stare at me and I smile. Wade smiles back, Hamish glares. Not good. He’s annoyed about something.

  “Hamish, Wade.” I keep my voice light. Hamish wipes his hands on his apron and stalks toward me.

  “We need to talk.” He pushes past me and strides to my office.

  I follow, getting more annoyed by the second. Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m the owner. His boss. He has no fucking right to speak to me that way. I close the door behind me, drop my bag onto the floor and park my ass in my chair. I clench my fists on the desk in front of me.

  “What the fuck is up your ass?” I can be rude too.

  “You are. Apparently I’m to babysit the chef from Cleo’s until the place has been repaired.”

  “You’re not babysitting, you’re training. Mason has years of experience so he won’t need a lot of supervision.”

  “Says who? Leon’s is very different to most restaurants. The standard is high and we have a rapid turnover of diners. I can’t be holding his fucking hand while diners are waiting to be fed. Another thing – it would have been nice to have been asked.” He glares down at me. “Don’t fucking assume.”

  My temper is up now. He may be sexy, have a gorgeous, smoldering body and lips I want to kiss forever but, he’s an employee and nobody tells me what they will or won’t do. “You will train the new chef or you can walk.” What the fuck have I just said? What fucking idiot has taken over my brain?

  Hamish unties his apron and throws it on the desk in front of me. I’m fucking shitting myself. As he turns toward the door, I stand and rush to him. I grab his arm to stop him from leaving. He glares down at my hand on his bicep and back up at me. I don’t remove my hand.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Please, sit down and we’ll discuss it further.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.”

  “Please?”

  He removes my hand and hesitates. For a moment I think he’s leaving but then he drops into the chair opposite me. I exhale loudly with relief as I round the desk and sit.

  He drags his fingers through his hair leaving it in a spiky mess. He’s adorable. My pussy clenches with desire.

  “Would you allow Wade to train him with you supervising?” Normally I would refuse to compromise but this man holds the key to my success in this city.

  He sighs and I think I have finally offered a compromise he can live with. “I guess that would be okay. I can still do my job but keep an eye on how his training is going. Wade is the best one to teach him anyway. He has a lot more experience, tolerance and patience than I do.”

  “Thank you.” I relax into my chair. “Not one for tolerance, huh?”

  “Afraid not. People push my buttons and I tend to overreact.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “How could you?” he snarls. “You come from money, you’ve never had to live on the street and cop abuse from everyone, including snotty nosed brats.” Anger shot like flaming darts from his eyes. “You’ve never had to beg for a meal, been beaten until you couldn’t even drink water.”

  My heart aches. This man obviously has a dark and hurtful past. I’m beginning to understand his attitude problem. “No, I haven’t and I’m sorry you have had to. What made you become a chef?”

  “I educated myself and nothing really appealed to me except cooking. I used to help at the soup kitchen where they fed me. I started to get creative with the ingredients we had and I found I liked it. I applied and was accepted into school which is where I met Wade. He was one of my tutors. He taught me some people can be trusted and kept telling me, I could succeed. Eventually, I believed him.”

  “I’m grateful to Wade. If not for him, I wouldn’t now have such a brilliant chef.”

  “Probably not.” Hamish stands. “I have to get back to the kitchen. Tell Mason to come in tomorrow for the lunch shift and I’ll make sure he has Wade’s roster for the days after that.”

  I don’t want Hamish to leave. I want to talk to him. Find out more about him. “Dinner?”

  He turns and gives me a puzzled look. “What about dinner?”

  “Will you have dinner with me? My place, tomorrow night?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to get to know you better.” The words sounded pitiful even to my own ears, but I could hardly tell him I was desperate for him to fuck me. Or could I?

  “Why?”

  Should I be truthful with him? I decide the answer to that question is, yes. Growing up the way he has and knowing what little trust he has in people, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to lie. “I want you.”

  His eyebrows raise and a smirk kicks up the corners of his lips. “You, what?”

  “I want you. I have no fucking idea why but my body is out of control when you’re around.” He laughs at me.

  “Lady, your body has a problem if it’s turned on by someone like me. You need a wealthy banker or mining magnate, not someone who has been dragged through the mud.”

  “Don’t you feel something between us?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter. You’re way out of my league babe, and I don’t need any problems at the moment. Thanks but, no thanks.”

  He turns and walks out of my office. I watch the globes of his sexy ass rise and fall with each step. Juices of want flood my pussy, my nipples harden. I sit back at my desk and make a silent vow. I will have his body. I need to get this ridiculous want out of my system and the only way I know to do that is to screw him stupid for one night. After that I’m sure I won’t be interested in him anymore.

  I scan the papers in front of me while I ponder how to get Hamish to go out with me. I need to find some way of winning him over and getting him into my bed.

  ***

  My accountant knocks on the door before he
comes into my office. He closes the door and sits opposite me. He has a file in his hands and a grim expression on his face.

  “Max. You look like your best friend died.”

  “Not quite but a good friend may be in more danger than she knows.”

  I know Max is talking about me. “What’s going on?”

  “The betting slips you found are from a notorious illegal betting ring. It’s rumored they have murdered, had people beaten, burnt down homes. The police can’t seem to get enough evidence together to put a stop to it.”

  “Are you saying they’ll come after me to get to Darren?”

  “I don’t know. When I dug deep into your books, I found the amounts in the front book, that Desiree gave you, didn’t tally with Darren’s. The missing amounts were either the same as, or close to, the amounts of the betting slips.”

  “So, Darren and Roberto stole from me to bet. They obviously paid for their bets so why would anyone come after me?”

  “They’ve lost their jobs but they won’t have lost their appetite for betting. They won’t tell whoever writes their slips that they don’t have the money to pay. They also won’t tell them, they have lost their jobs. If they fall into debt, the boss of the ring will send his henchmen after you.”

  “But why? It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “The boss would have been told they work here. He’ll check you out when Darren and Roberto don’t pay, see that you’re wealthy and as far as he’s concerned, it will be your responsibility to pay up.”

  “Well, I won’t.”

  “I know you won’t which is what worries me. Men like this don’t take kindly to being defied. They don’t care how they get their money or, who they get it from, as long as they get it.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I can’t be expected to pay someone else’s debts.”

  “They’ll realize they can’t get it from Darren and Roberto and come after you. I’m sure of it.”

  “What about Darren and Roberto?”

  “They’ll turn up at the bottom of the river, I expect.”

  I shudder. I thought things like this only happened in movies. I won’t panic about something that may never happen though.

  “Can we report your findings to the police?”

  “You could but we don’t have proof.”

  “We have the journal Darren filled in, the betting slips and Desiree’s book.”

  “Anyone could have filled those books out and the slips could belong to any one of the staff.”

  “But…” He holds up his hand and I quieten.

  “I know they probably did it, you know they probably did it but we can’t prove it.”

  “That’s just fucked up.”

  “I agree but there’s nothing we can do. Let it go. I know it has cost you money, reputation and your restaurant has suffered damage but, if you pursue them we don’t know what they will do. I don’t want to be told you have been found at the bottom of the river.”

  “Very well but I don’t like it and I’m not happy.”

  “I didn’t expect you would be and, Blossom.”

  “Yes?”

  “If they threaten you or anyone comes to the restaurant, please call the police immediately. Don’t do anything that will make them angry enough to hurt you.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I’m already planning how to get back at Darren, Roberto and the rest of the assholes.

  “I’ll talk to you again soon. Remember what I’ve said. These men don’t play games and you won’t win. Stay away from them.”

  I walk Max out and return to my office to formulate a plan. I’ll have to be careful, it goes without saying, but those assholes won’t mess with me and get away with it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  HAMISH

  “How did it go?” Wade is putting the finishing touches to a Crème Bruleé.

  “I’ve agreed to allow you to train Mason with my supervision. Not that you’ll need any.”

  Wade spins around and glares at me. “You fucker. Thanks for dumping him on me.”

  “No problem. I guess being Head Chef has its perks.”

  “How long is he gonna be with us?”

  “She didn’t say. I guess until Cleo’s re-opens.”

  “But that could be weeks.”

  I shrug my shoulders. I understand Wade’s frustration. Teaching someone in a school environment is one thing but teaching them when you have diners to feed, is another. “He’s got years of experience so maybe it won’t be so bad.”

  “Yeah, right. It better not be or I’ll suddenly find myself sick and needing a few weeks off.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Hmmm, if I do this, you’ll owe me.” Lust sparkles in his eyes.

  “No. I told you. I’m done. The next fuck I have will be with a woman.” Wade has given me pride in myself, the ability to finally say, no. I love the man but I won’t allow my body to be used again. Not ever. Not by anyone. Male or female.

  “I know but it didn’t hurt to try.”

  I slap his ass. “I’ll have your back if there’s a problem. We’ll get through it.”

  The lunch shift has been busy and we’re all glad when it’s done. Wade and I leave the juniors to clean up.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. I’m headed down to the school. The kid has his first football practice today.”

  “Enjoy it.”

  We go our separate ways. I head uptown to the school, while Wade waits for the bus to take him home. I wish he would find someone loving to share his life with. He’s such a good man and I think he’s lonely. If I was gay, he would be the perfect partner. Kind, caring, loving, attentive. Trouble is, I want those qualities in a woman.

  As I reach the gates to the school, I’m bombarded by rug rats scurrying in all directions. It takes me a few minutes to enter the school grounds and head toward the football field.

  “Dad, Dad.” I swing around. The kid runs up to me, drops his school bag on the ground, and leaps into my arms. I hug him and put him back down.

  “What’s with the dad?”

  “All the other kids call their pa’s, Dad. I want to as well. Is it okay?”

  “Yeah, if that’s what you want. Just one or the other or you’ll confuse me. I’m not as smart as you.”

  We both laugh. I love hearing my son’s laughter and watching as his little face lights up. When he talks he’s so animated. He’s happy and I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  The coach whistles from the sideline.

  “Gotta go, Dad.”

  I watch him run off. His boots make his skinny legs look tiny. The coach hands all the kids helmets and ensures they’re on properly and fastened as they should be. He divides the kids into two teams and they hit the field.

  A lot of shouting, whistle blowing and cursing takes place over the next hour or so. Steve learns fast and even manages to run down half of the field with the ball tucked under his arm. I groan as he’s pounced on and thumps to the ground. He’s tough though. He bounces straight back up and takes off after the coveted ball. At the end of the training session, he’s filthy, bruised and has several scrapes, but is smiling broadly.

  The coach speaks with them all about their game on Saturday, hands them a sheet of paper and tells them they can go. He runs back to me, his eyes lit up with excitement.

  “Dad, the coach said I can play on Saturday. Can you come and watch?”

  “What time is it?” Steve hands the paper to me.

  “The ’structions are on here.”

  I take the paper and read the address and time of the game. It’s at eight. I’ll have plenty of time to watch and get to the restaurant for my lunch shift. “I’ll be there.”

  “Yippee!” The kid dances around my legs.

  “Come on. Let’s go and get you cleaned up.” He sits down and we change him from his boots into his school shoes. I grab his school bag from the ground and he slips his hand into mine. He chatters non-stop
as we head home.

  Our apartment is only minutes from the school and as we enter the building, Steve runs ahead to check the mail. He pulls out some flyers and a letter with a government stamp on the front. My heart jumps into my throat. What if they’ve decided I can’t have Steve after all? Surely they wouldn’t take him from me? The Judge said he was mine. Yeah, I know I lied about being his father but how would they know?

  By the time I slip the key in the lock and we enter our apartment, I’m lathered in sweat. I try and keep my voice even so as not to alarm Steve. “Okay, bath before you do anything.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes, you do. You’re not sitting on our nice new couch covered in dirt and grass.” His head drops and he scuffs his feet on the floor. I know it’s all an act. He loves his bath and has several boats and other toys he can play with while he’s in there.

  “Okay, if I have to.”

  “You have to.”

  I follow him into the bathroom and flick on the water. I adjust the mixer until the water is just right. Steve pours in some of his superhero bubbles and pushes his toys in. I help him undress and lift him in. As soon as the water has reached the right depth, I flick off the tap and go back to the letter I had dropped on the hall table.

  Steve is splashing while singing at the top of his voice. My veins feel like ice water is coursing through them as I open the letter and my heart is pounding. “Fuck.” My heart slows to its normal speed and I relax. It’s a letter stating Steve is officially mine. It’s stamped by the government. I rush back to the bathroom.

  “Steve, look.” I wave the paper around.

  “What is it, Dad?”

  “It’s an official letter saying we’re father and son.”

  “Yippee!” Steve splashes his hands on top of the water.

  We both laugh as bubbles overflow onto the floor.

  “I’ll go and put this away and come and scrub your back.

  I take the paper to my bedroom and place it into a folder where I keep all my personal papers. I can’t help but smile as I read it again.

  ***