I instantly pounded away at my keys. Are you both playing a prank on me or something?
Bethany: We’re not.
Then why are you both acting strange?
Bethany: I was just taken aback by how handsome he was. she replied. I don’t know about Ida.
WHY ARE YOU NOT RESPONDING? I texted her.
I had just taken down a customer’s order when I received a response so the moment I returned to the counter, I pulled out my phone to check the message.
“What table is the steak for?” Ryan asked me, but I could barely look up from my phone to respond to him.
“16?” he asked, and I nodded as I read Ida’s response.
Ida: He is not dangerous Carson. We’ve confirmed this. Have your fun with him.
Then why are you both so quiet?
Bethany: We’re talking to you. What do you mean?
I’m at work right now and I’m risking a lot to get the answer that you both are fully aware that I want.
No one responded after that and I gazed with incredulity at my ignored message.
Xander had stepped out to take one of his infamous phone calls and was no longer at the counter so I couldn't even ask him if perhaps there was some history between him and either of my friends.
“Where’s my damn order?” A customer suddenly yelled across the large room, and it woke me up.
Ryan came hurrying towards me. “Where is table five’s order,” he asked, and I looked around confused for a moment. “Didn't you take it?”
I couldn't remember so I headed over to the service station to ask the chef. “Kendrick, where’s table’s five order?”
He looked through his list. “What order? You didn't bring that in.”
I was confused and so was Ryan as he turned to gaze back at the fuming customer. Eventually, I recalled what might have happened and rushed over to the counter and lo and behold, lying beside me was the order I had taken down but had failed to submit.
I instantly reached for it but then a plump hand with brightly colored nails grabbed it before I could and glared murderously at me.
“Submit this,” Lucy said to Ryan and he did as he was told.
“Leave,” she said to me and my heart dropped into my stomach.
“Lucy…”
“Right now,” she said. Just then the door opened and I turned around to see Xander walk in.
I felt the tears gather in my eyes, as I walked out from the counter and headed toward the locker room.
♡
XANDER
I watched her leave and suspected what had just happened.
Ryan confirmed it to me upon my inquiry a few moments later. “She’s been all over the place today,” he said. “I don't know what’s going on with her. Lucy has been looking for a reason to fire her and she just gave her one.”
He walked away, bitter, to do his own job and I turned to gaze at the seat that her friends had just vacated. I had been as surprised to see Ida as she had been to see me.
“What’s going on?” had been the first words out of her mouth, while her other friend had looked on in confusion at the obvious familiarity between the both of us.
“It’s just for a short while,” I had responded. “Please keep this between us. What would you like to have?”
She had been unable to speak, and her friend had ended up relating their order.
I was beginning to feel as befuddled as Carson had probably felt. Working here had been an impulsive decision on my part, and I had expected that after her rejection, I would have come to my senses, however, I still excused myself from my meeting earlier that evening with the claim that I had somewhere else to be.
With a sigh at what a mess both Carson and I were, I headed over to Lucy. “Could I please have a word with you?” I asked.
She had first felt reluctant to grant my request but finally, she gave in and after a quick talk with her, she also agreed to pardon Carson.
Her suspicion that their branch manager could have overruled her order, and the opportunity to appear warm-hearted before me certainly played a huge role in her pardon.
I headed into the locker room and met Carson filtering through her locker.
“You don’t have to leave,” I said to her, and turned immediately around to exit the room.
“You spoke to Lucy?” she asked, and I stopped. “I did.”
“I don't want to owe you.”
I thought on the true meaning behind her statement and turned back to her. “Is it that you truly don't know how to receive help, or you don't want to give your heart a reason to soften toward me?”
She shrugged her shoulders, and I suspected that even she didn't know the answer. I slipped my hands into my pocket. “Alright, how are you going to pay me?”
“What do you want?”
Silence.
“I already told you what I want.”
“I won’t do that,” she said, and a snicker left my lips. If only she knew the position I had currently placed myself in because of that request. Never had I pitied myself so. She however misunderstood the escaped laugh.
“You think I’m bluffing, or just being difficult?”
I allowed her to think whatever she wanted and turned around to leave.
“I’ll kiss you,” she said. “I can afford that. I want that.”
My entire body tensed up at the proposition. I heard her rise and begin to walk toward me and I had to remind myself to breathe. When she stood before me, my heart skipped a beat. “Let’s not kiss any longer,” I said, and my heart seemed to plunge down into my stomach, but I stood my ground.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t afford that.”
“What then can you afford?”
I didn’t mince my words. “Your mouth on my cock.” I almost anticipated the slight shock that passed through her eyes.
“You might not have blown someone before,” I said and took a step towards her. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’ll teach you how to blow me.”
I exited the room and took a quick trip to the restroom to take care of my swollen dick. I wasn’t willing to gamble with my sanity otherwise.
♡
CARSON
“How does Ida know Xander?” I demanded from Bethany the moment I walked into the apartment. I was surprised however to see the two of them sharing a blanket on the couch and munching on a bowl of pretzels. I glared at Ida. “You’re here too, good. I was going to be at your door first thing in the morning.”
She laughed at how seriously I was taking it all and sat up. So did Bethany.
“How do you know him,” I repeated.
“He’s David’s friend.
“Is?”
“Yes, is.”
“Oh, why then is he working in a coffee shop? Couldn't David give him a job? He seems incredibly bright.”
“You have no idea,” Bethany said under her breath, but I heard her.
“What do you mean?”
“He is bright,” Ida said, however, he doesn't want a job at David’s company. He has his own way of doing things. He boggles me to no end.”
“How well do you know him? He is truly not dangerous?”
“I know where he lives. I mean I’ve never visited but I know.”
“Then why did it seem as though he was stalking me?”
“I don’t know about stalking you, but I do know he is beyond interested in you.”
“Have you seen him act like this towards other girls before?” Bethany asked.
“Never. I’ve never even seen him with another girl in all the years I’ve known him. He probably had them all around, but he just doesn’t converse about such things. At least not with me.”
Bethany came over to the counter as I retrieved a carrot from the refrigerator.
“What exactly does he want from you?”
“He wants us to sleep together.”
“Haven't you already?” Her eyes widened in understanding. “Not be in a relati
onship, but just… bang? Hell no!”
“Why are you saying no?” Ida asked and we all turned our gazes towards her.
“She’s a girl,” Bethany said.
“And what does that mean? I’m a girl too and I sleep around.”
“You’re hardened,” Bethany said. “Carson is a softie.”
I sighed deeply at the argument that obviously didn't need my input and continued munching on my carrot, trying not to think of what he had whispered into my ear earlier that day.
“No, I’m not hardened,” Ida went on. “I know how to enjoy myself without allowing the world to brainwash me into a victim. What are you afraid of, Carson?” she turned to me.
“She’ll feel used,” Bethany said, and Ida yelled in true frustration for the first time since I had met her three years prior.
“What does that even mean? Carson, did you enjoy fucking him?”
I cleared my throat and gave a quick head nod.
“Then do it again, and again, and again, because God forbid you’re enjoying yourself, then how does that make you feel used? You’re using him too. You’re both using each other. What’s with the fucking victim mentality when it comes to girls?”
“What of if she falls in love with him?” Bethany asked defiantly, unwilling to let go of her stance.
“And what if she does?”
I turned to her then and she met my gaze dead on. “And so freaking what?” she asked me. “Is it a crime to fall in love with someone?”
“You want her to have a broken heart?” Bethany asked.
Ida grabbed her hair. “What is wrong with a broken heart? You mark it down as a good experience and move the fuck on.”
“How can that be so easy for you to say?” Bethany asked. “Especially after what you've gone through with David.”
“Because look the fuck around, kids. Nothing is easy, but despite this, a lot of things are worth it. David shattered my heart, and until this day it still pricks the hell out of me. Maybe someday I will fully get over it, or maybe I won’t, but will I ever regret falling in love with him? Hell no! That, to this day, remains the greatest experience of my life. Just thinking about the insane things we did together is enough to keep me awake for several nights just bawling at how completely out of our minds we were. It was a great experience and one I won’t ever take back. You're a writer Carson, so why the hell are you so scared of living? What doesn't fucking hurt? Having to spell out something so simple for two supposedly bright women is fucking excruciating to me. What experiences are you going to have to write about when you have not even dared to live? Haven’t you had your heart broken before Bethany? Are you dead? Your choices in men keep deteriorating but you’re still fucking here, alive and spitting off nonsense.”
Ida stood and came around the counter toward me. “Carson, enjoy your damn self for once. If you enjoy him screwing your brains out of your head—"
“Please stop,” I said and looked away, and the girls burst out laughing.
“If you truly enjoy him then take charge. Set down your terms and boundaries if you need to and buckle in for the ride, literally. And when you're done dust the sand off your feet or if your heart is broken come cry with us and move the fuck on.”
“You can even make this your own show,” Bethany said. “Torment him… bring him to his knees.”
“How?”
“Now you're talking,” Ida howled. “We might be up all night with the ideas swirling through my head right now. First of all, what kind of panties do you wear?”
“The grandma kind,” Bethany responded. “Those cottony panty-line-inducing monstrosities.”
“Bethany, get her some thongs or better yet some G-strings,” Ida instructed.
“I am not wearing any of those,” I proclaimed but neither paid attention to me. Both of them had already rushed into Bethany's bedroom and were rummaging through her chest of unused lingerie.
Chapter 7
XANDER
I was seated in the executive conference room and instead of paying attention to the growth chart that was being broken down, my eyes were on the wall clock by the corner.
The moment it hit 4:30 pm, I rose to my feet. “I have somewhere to be,” I announced. “We’ll pick up from here tomorrow.”
David rose to exit the room with me and I sighed deeply the moment he walked into my office.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I replied as I gathered the files I would need to work with at home when I got back from the coffee house.
“You’ve been leaving before 5 pm for almost a week now. That has never happened before. Most of the times you’re here even past midnight. What’s going on? Are you dating? Are you sick? Is your mom okay? Is she in town?”
I stopped and straightened to stare at him, the barrage of questions exhausting to hear. “I’m fine. It’ll just be for a short while, I need a break. Don’t you dare have me followed,” I said and walked out of the office.
Simon was waiting for me, so I dismissed him for the day and drove myself over to the Grande Cup. I was lucky today because just as I arrived, a car pulled away, so I was able to slide into the vacant spot only a short distance from the cafe.
I remained seated wondering when I was going to quit the charade I was putting up. I was beginning to understand myself less and less. “Today will be the last,” I said to myself. “If she didn't have a response for me, I would give her up.”
I looked up into my rearview mirror to see a woman with short blonde hair crossing the street.
I didn't need to see her face to confirm who it was, however, I did need to peer a little bit more closely to be certain she was the same person.
She wore a paper-thin white wrap dress that barely went past her thighs. She turned to glance around then and I couldn't take my eyes off her. The dress hugged every curve of her body, down her tiny waist and then her buttocks before flaring out in the wind.
I grabbed my phone and got out of the car.
A few minutes later I met her in the locker room. She now had a pair of dark jeans on but with the dress still hanging over it all. She acted as though she didn't notice my entrance and I did the same. However when I noticed her nipples straining against the white material I stopped breathing.
She went on with putting up her hair and adjusting her makeup as though nothing was happening, and then to my surprise, she loosened the strap that held the blouse together and slipped the material off her shoulders to reveal her full breasts, tucked into a skimpy black lace bra.
It surprised me because since I had arrived here, never had she changed in front of me. Ryan, she was comfortable with, but the moment I came in she always scampered for cover.
She had begun a game for which I was yet uncertain of the prize and rules, and I couldn't remember the last time I had looked forward to something more. I focused on exchanging my cashmere sweater for the dark shirt of the house, but when I pulled the shirt down over my torso I found her walking toward me.
“Could you help me with the hook of my bra? It’s too loose. Pinning it a step closer will be good.”
I waited until she worked up the courage to look me in the eyes before holding her by the arm and turning her around. When I was done, I banged my locker shut and walked away.
She continued her subtle torments throughout the day and when she let her order pad drop and bent down to pick it up, from the back of her jeans extended a dark string thong which instantly turned me hard. I looked away from the sight and refocused on the coffee I had been brewing.
I was amused because at the end of it all she was going to be the one limping away. I would make damn sure of it. I was intrigued as to what had brought the sudden change, but remembering Ida’s visit, I had a good guess. David had filled my head over the years with more stories of his good times that I had ever been willing to hear. Carson could not have had a better teacher.
Did that also mean then that she had told her my real ide
ntity? I wanted to find out, so when I handed over the coffee to her, I asked. “Did Ida tell you that she knew me?”
She seemed taken aback by the question but then she quickly recovered “She said that you are friends with her ex-husband,” she replied and walked away.
There was a huge chance that Ida had not said a word but just in case, I picked up my phone and called her. She picked up immediately.
“Did you tell Carson about me yesterday?”
“No, I didn’t,” she replied. “I just said that you were David’s friend.”
“Alright,” I said.
I was about to hang up when she said, “I don't want to get involved but don't be a dick to her.”
I said nothing to the caution and ended the call just as Carson came over to hand me yet another fresh roast order.
I accepted it, my hand unintentionally brushing hers but this time around, she didn’t even flinch. She looked boldly into my eyes and said. “Could I watch as you brew the next batch?”
“Sure,” I replied, and she stood next to me.
It was then that I noticed her scent. It was the same that I had smelt on her the first time I had met and kissed her on the street. It had swirled all around and teased me to the insanity I currently found myself in. She watched as I selected the dark beans to begin grinding and asked. “Why did you reject the box of beans that Brian brought in the day before yesterday? You said that they had been over-roasted but they looked fine to me.”
“They weren't up to par,” I answered. “Most were quite black, and the beans were broken.”
“I don't think I can tell the difference between a dark brown and black especially with the lighting in here. Yet you gave it just one glance and instantly rejected it.”
“Years of practice,” I said.
She watched quietly as I grounded the beans and then reached for the kettle of just-boiled water. I let it sit for a few seconds to prevent over extracting the flavors before I put it to use.
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