by Sophia Gray
Antonio honked the horn. Rolling my eyes, I yanked open the passenger door and slid inside.
“I know a diner,” I said brightly. “It’s called the The Fox Den. We should go there, Antonio. Please?” I turned in the seat and pouted.
Antonio rolled his eyes. “You sure you don’t want to invite that guy from the club?”
“Who?”
“The guy you were grinding on,” Antonio said through gritted teeth as he pulled the car away from the curb. “Don’t you remember? Or is your memory really that short?”
I giggled. “He was kind of a loser,” I said. “Way too desperate, honestly.”
Antonio cocked one eyebrow and smirked. “Yeah, he’s the desperate one,” he said tartly. “That much is obvious.”
I frowned. That little dig stung, but I was sure I deserved it. After all, I’d just spent the last five hours making Antonio watch as I basically gave poor Samuel a striptease.
Antonio pulled onto the highway and I directed him to the The Fox Den, all the while hoping it was still there. I hadn’t been in years – in high school, sometimes Cassandra and I would cut class together and go there for lunch. It was cheap, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that it was always crowded, and it made us feel anonymous and cool to be buying our own food in public.
Sometimes I really missed the days of such innocent thrills. That was before I’d really started to rebel. Dad didn’t care too much about me skipping school, as long as I kept my grades passable. I didn’t want to embarrass him, but I also knew it wasn’t a good look for me to be a brainy girl. Now, I felt kind of ashamed of myself – I wished I’d tried harder in school.
“Hey,” I said suddenly. “Do you think I could go to college?”
Antonio frowned. “College? Why? What made you think of that?”
I flopped against the seat, tugging at the seat belt so it wouldn’t cut into my neck. “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “I just…I don’t know. Sometimes I kind of wish I’d made more of an effort, you know?”
Antonio looked at me. “I don’t really understand,” he said. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because,” I said flatly. “It wasn’t expected of me.”
Antonio stayed silent as he guided the car into a parking space. The Fox Den was just as I remembered it. Maybe a little grimier, I thought as Antonio and I walked into the entrance and waited for a booth. But I’m sure the food is still good.
The middle-aged hostess was wearing too much blue eyeshadow, and her Debral lipstick was distributed more on her yellowing teeth than on her sagging lips. I made a face at Antonio behind her back, and he ignored me, making it perfectly clear that he didn’t approve of my juvenile sense of humor.
When we were seated at a cracked vinyl booth, I picked up a menu and brushed crumbs off the table. The menu was coated in plastic and a little sticky from the person before me, but I didn’t care. I flipped eagerly through the pages.
“Oh my god, I’m so hungry,” I said. I was salivating as I glanced down at the menu. “Do you like biscuits and gravy? What about eggs? Toast? Do you want breakfast or lunch?”
Antonio snickered. “I’m not hungry,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s right, you filled up on soda,” I said. “Come on, order something. I always feel so weird eating alone!”
“You’re such a girl,” Antonio said. He laughed shortly, then reached for a menu. “And you sure we’re not gonna get food poisoning from this place?”
“Well, probably not,” I said. “Just…stay away from the egg salad.”
Antonio made a face. “Maybe I won’t eat,” he said.
“Come on,” I whined. “Relax around me.” I smiled. “After all, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
The woman with the lipstick on her teeth came to take our order. After much deliberation, I got a cheeseburger platter with a double bacon, pickles, and extra cheese. Antonio ordered a breakfast plate with sausage, eggs, and toast. The waitress barely took her eyes away from his handsome face and by the time she left, I burst out laughing.
“What?”
“She was checking you out,” I whispered, reaching across the table and poking Antonio in the arm. His muscles were as hard as granite beneath the thin material of his shirt, and I blushed when I realized how strong he must be.
“I didn’t notice,” Antonio said dryly.
The diner wasn’t as crowded as it used to be in the days when I’d skipped class with Cassandra, but being here made me nostalgic.
“So about college,” Antonio said, leaning forward and putting his hands on the table. In the yellow light of the diner, my skin looked almost jaundiced. But Antonio was still gorgeous – a deep shade of olive. His hands were big and strong, with black hair on his knuckles. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if he touched me.
“Yeah?” I leaned back against the sticky vinyl booth. “I don’t know. It was a dumb idea. I doubt Dad would let me go, anyway. I mean, you’d have to come with me, too.”
Antonio snickered. “Adult education,” he said sarcastically. “I like the sound of that.”
I sighed. “I just…I wish I’d done more,” I said. “I mean, now I don’t really feel like there’s anything I’m good at.”
Antonio didn’t say anything. He shifted on the bench, sipping from his plastic cup of water.
“Don’t you ever miss being younger?”
Antonio shook his head. “No,” he said. “I like being an adult. I like having the freedom to make my own choices.”
“That’s just it, though,” I said, smacking my hand down on the table. “I don’t have freedom at all. I have to do whatever my dad wants me to do, and if I don’t, he treats me like a little kid.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m twenty-one, and I can’t even go to a club without having a bodyguard around!”
“It must be frustrating,” Antonio said smoothly.
The waitress arrived with our food, but even though my double cheeseburger looked delicious, I didn’t feel that hungry anymore.
“Can’t you at least agree with me?” I asked quietly once we were alone again. “Don’t you think it would be really hard to be in my position?”
Antonio nodded. “Oh, definitely,” he said. “But there isn’t anything I can do. You know that, Melinda. I work for your father. I’m not going to speak ill of him.”
I bit my lip. “I didn’t ask to be born into this family,” I said slowly. “And it’s not like I have any brothers or sisters to stick up for me, or cover when I fuck up. I just wish I had a normal life, that’s all.”
“You have a perfectly normal life,” Antonio said, his voice annoyingly calm. He used the side of his fork to cut into his eggs and took a neat bite. “We were just at a club. Wouldn’t you call that normal?”
“Yeah, if you were my date,” I said hotly. “But you’re not. You’re my bodyguard. Most girls don’t have bodyguards.”
Antonio shrugged. “It’s what your father wants,” he said.
I was starting to get mad – no, not just mad, but really steaming with rage. My skin felt hot and clammy and my throat was tight as I balled my hands into fists in my lap. “How can you say that?” I demanded. “How can you be so calm about this?”
Antonio shrugged. “Because it’s not my business,” he said. “And you know that. You’re just looking for a reason to feel justified,” Antonio added. “And I’m not going to give you that, Melinda. Sorry.”
I glared at him. “I hate you,” I muttered. “You’re just as bad as my father. Hell, you’re as bad as Alexander! You think the world revolves around you, and you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
Antonio set his fork down to the side of his plate and narrowed his eyes. “That’s a leap,” he said. “You’re really going to equate me with someone like Alexander, just because I’m not agreeing with you?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “I am. Because it’s obvious you don’t care – you just care abou
t money! You don’t give a damn if anything happens to me. Hell, the only reason you even stopped here is because talking about food made you hungry.”
Antonio stared at me coldly. His dark eyes flashed with intense emotion, and I shivered even though it was warm in the diner.
“Fine,” Antonio said. “You’re right. It must be hard, to be a Cantonneli and not to have a lot of choice in your life.” He didn’t tear his eyes away from mine as he spoke, and suddenly I felt the other patrons of the diner melt away in a blur of color.
I glared at him until pricks of tears began to sting my eyes. “It’s hard,” I finally said. “It’s really, really hard.”
Chapter 8
Antonio
As the weeks went by, I found I was starting to get used to Melinda Cantonneli and her loud, overbearing personality. After spending a few nights looking after her, I started to understand exactly what she was up to. Basically, it seemed like she wanted as much attention as possible…until she didn’t.
Rodrigo was warming toward me more than ever. He passed me a bonus of six thousand dollars after my first two weeks watching Melinda, and I put most of the money in savings. It was one of the first times in my life that I wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck, and I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying it.
But it wasn’t just the money. There was something about Melinda that made it hard for me to tear my eyes away from her, even at moments when I shouldn’t have been watching. Sure, she was a handful. And she could be incredibly bratty when she wanted. But I was starting to see that something more was happening between us, and that made me feel more uneasy by the day.
“I want to go dancing tonight,” Melinda announced. We were sitting in Rodrigo’s dining room, picking at the remains of Indian food I’d ordered the night before. I hadn’t meant to come over that night, but Melinda had called and said she was hungry. When I arrived, she was in pajamas and sulking because she didn’t feel like leaving the house. When I tried to leave, she whined about being lonely.
So I stayed with her. Not in her room, obviously. I slept on the couch in one of the guest rooms. But we watched movies, and I ordered two hundred dollars worth of takeout.
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s been like, almost a week,” I said sarcastically. “I bet you’re really dying to make some poor fool cream his pants.”
Melinda glared. “You don’t understand,” she said defensively. “It’s not like Dad lets me date. This is the only time I can be around men.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I said. “I’m going home and getting a few hours of sleep. I’ll be over later to pick you up. What time do you want to go?”
Melinda pouted when I got up from my chair. “You can’t leave,” she demanded. “Who am I going to talk to?”
I shrugged. “Yourself, for all I care,” I said. “I slept like shit on that couch last night, and unless you want me falling asleep on the job, I need a real nap.”
Melinda grinned wickedly and I felt my cock chafe against my boxers. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” she said demurely. “Maybe I want you to fall asleep so I can run away with some wicked guy I meet on the dance floor.”
I stood up, shaking my head. “You’re hopeless,” I told her.
Melinda pouted. “I don’t want you to leave,” she said.
“Tough shit, princess,” I told her as I walked out the front door.
But when I got home, I couldn’t relax. I kept thinking of Melinda. The way her dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders and down to the small of her back. The way her breasts pushed together in an alluring display of cleavage. The mock innocence in her blue eyes when she knew she was being naughty.
Groaning, I turned on the water in the shower. I couldn’t help but stroke my cock until I came, thinking of Melinda and the sweet vanilla-rose perfume she’d been wearing the other day. I tried thinking of other women – but nothing worked. This will be the first and only time. I’m not going to make a habit out of this. She’s the boss’s daughter, for God’s sake! She’s completely off-limits.
Besides, I had a nagging feeling that despite her naughty way of flirting, Melinda didn’t have very much experience with men. I saw that in the club all the time – guys would come onto her, and she’d shy away as soon as the music stopped. It was like dancing was the only method of communication where she felt comfortable and confident.
She was a frustrating enigma, but I still found myself looking forward to spending time with her.
I mean work. I found myself looking forward to work.
After I jerked off in the shower, I fell asleep on my own couch watching a football game. When I woke up, it was dark and I had six missed calls from Melinda.
Shaking my head, I called her back.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” I said. “Saw you called a bunch. What’s up?”
Melinda sighed in exasperation. “Where were you?”
“I told you, I was sleeping.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re fuckin’ impossible, you know that?”
Melinda giggled. “Well, come over,” she said. “I’m ready to go out. Oh, and can you bring some chicken nuggets? I’m really craving them. And a lemonade, too. Oh! And some barbecue sauce. You don’t mind, do you Antonio?”
I groaned. “No,” I said, hissing through gritted teeth. “I don’t mind.”
When I pulled up in the driveway, it was clogged with shiny high-end sports cars. I frowned, because I hadn’t realized Rodrigo was hosting a party that evening. I hoped he wouldn’t try to pull me inside; I didn’t feel like fielding his questions about Melinda. I was tired.
Of course, I was also feeling slightly guilty for having jerked thinking about Melinda earlier.
“Hi!” Melinda chirped, opening the door before I was even on the front porch. “Did you bring my nuggets?”
I thrust the greasy paper bag towards her. Melinda grabbed it and skittered away, her heels clattering across the marble foyer. Rodrigo had a great house – it looked like something right out of a magazine – but I knew it had been built from dirty money. I also knew I shouldn’t care about that, but it sent a little chill of dread through me when I thought about how powerful Rodrigo was.
“Antonio,” Rodrigo said heavily. He grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. “Come, have a drink with Marty and me.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, Sir.” I shrugged. “I’m taking Melinda out – wouldn’t want to drink anything before getting behind the wheel.”
Rodrigo nodded. “Smart kid,” he said. “Have fun, you two.” He beamed at Melinda and she beamed right back.
“I’m ready,” Melinda said. “Come on, Antonio. Let’s go.”
“What about your food?”
Melinda was still holding the bag. She shrugged. “I’ll eat in your car,” she said, smiling sweetly. “That’s okay, right?”
Inwardly, I groaned. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure. Fine. Whatever, Melinda.”
Just as we were walking out the front door, another car pulled up in the driveway with a loud screech of tires on cement that made Melinda cry out. A man climbed out from the driver’s side and started walking across the perfectly groomed lawn, kicking up clods of dirt and grass with every violent step.
When he got closer, I realized it was Alexander Rex. As he jogged up to the front door, he saw Melinda and did a double-take.
“Holy shit,” Alexander said. “Where the fuck are you going looking like that?”
Melinda reached into the paper bag and took out a chicken nugget, biting into it as she glared at Alexander. “I’m going out,” she said snootily, tilting her nose into the air. “Bye, Alexander.”
She pranced past him, her heels clicking delicately on the concrete. Alexander stared for a moment then darted after her and grabbed her by the arm. The fast food bag fell from Melinda’s arms to the pavement, and she glared at Alexander when she realized what he’d done.
“Leave me alone,” Melinda hissed. “Antonio!”
Imme
diately, I jogged over. “Let her go,” I growled. Side by side, Alexander and I were almost the same height. He was bulkier than I was, but I knew it would be a fairly even match if we were to fight. For a moment, I thought he was going to punch me. But after a few seconds, he relented and let go of Melinda’s arm.
“Have fun,” Alexander called sarcastically after Melinda as she stalked off. “Slut!”
In the car, Melinda was unusually quiet. As often as I wished that she’d shut up, it was unnerving to be around her and not hear an endless stream of chatter.
“Sorry,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot of Hurricanes. “He’s an asshole.”