by Henry, Jane
I felt a bit guilty then. "Well, I didn't want you to see where I live," I said, my voice dropping, as I chipped away at the concrete with the toe of my sneaker. He glared at me, hands anchored on his hips, and I had to look away .
"Dante, I need to go," I pled. "She'll be looking for me ."
Tough as he was, something in his gaze flickered. "Yeah. Me, too ."
"So wait a minute. How'd you even know I was being followed? I thought you were going home ?”
"I was," he said with a sheepish shrug of his shoulder. "I wanted to be sure you were safe, so I watched you ."
"You spied on me? Oh that isn't creepy at all !"
It wasn’t, really, but I wanted to needle him a little .
He narrowed his eyes again. "It isn't creepy. I was worried about you. It's late, and you're just a little thing, and I was afraid people would take advantage of you. You’re too damn innocent and naïve ."
"Apparently I am if I didn't even know my boyfriend was following me !"
He blinked before I realized my error .
Um… I said boyfriend? My cheeks flamed .
"Yeah," he said and he glanced around briefly before looking at the time on his phone. "So this is where you really live ?"
"Yeah," I said, wishing he’d go now. I didn’t like him seeing where I lived .
He drew a bit closer and put his hand on the small of my back, causing me to look up at him. "Gabriella, I don't care where you live. Did you really think I did ?"
We stood there in the quiet for a moment before I whispered, "I need to go .”
He leaned in and touched his forehead to mine. "Me, too ."
But neither of us moved .
I didn't want to say goodbye, not again. I still shook from the shock of what had happened. I wanted him to hold me, just a little while longer .
"Wish I didn't have to let you go, baby," he said, his voice low and husky. "Wish I could keep you here with me.” His fingers interlocked with mine at the small of my back. “Gabriella, tomorrow, we'll spend the night together. Yeah ?”
"Yeah," I whispered .
One curt nod, another fierce kiss on my forehead, and he whispered against the shell of my ear, his warm breath and whiskers making me shiver, "And tomorrow I'll punish you for lying to me .”
I squirmed in both delicious arousal and apprehension, swallowing hard and said the only possible response. "Yes, Daddy ."
He watched me go up the stairs that led to my apartment building. I could feel his eyes on me as I punched in the security code, and heard the faint click of the lock. I pushed the door open, and turned to look over my shoulder. He sat in the shadow of the streetlight, his arms crossed over his brawny chest, my beautiful, tortured, angry, sexy-as-hell Prince Charming. His hair hung over his forehead in sand-colored waves, his eyes trained on me, his jaw set in a firm line. The t-shirt stretched across his chest and his arms bulged at the biceps. Strong. Immovable. Fierce .
Mine.
I shivered with delight, as I stepped into the hallway, and as the door creaked shut, I felt cold hands on my shoulders. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came as a hand covered my mouth, and all I could hear behind me was the rumble of his bike as he drove away. My heart raced, my hands clammy. I recognized the lavender scent of my stepmother's perfume emanating from the warmth of the figure behind me. Tears watered my eyes. "Mmphh!" I said, struggling, trying to push her away, but her hands held fast .
"Where were you?" she hissed. "I called and you didn't answer. Where the fuck were you?" Her fingernails dug into the sensitive skin on my face, and I shook with fear. I tried to push her away, but she held me fast as she removed her hand from my mouth .
"I was out," I said. "And why can't I go out? I'm an adult and I’m not subject to your rules ."
She spun me around to look at her, her eyes narrowed to mere slits as her jaw clenched in fury. She shook me, once. Then she let me go and stared .
"I suppose you're right," she said, her voice tight with anger. "But you're not my daughter ."
I knew I wasn't and I didn't want to be, but I wasn't sure how to respond, so I just stared back .
"I hate calling you and getting no response. You’re the manager of our restaurant and I expect that you'll answer your calls ."
"At midnight?" I asked, my temper rising as I stepped closer to her. "And why did you think it okay to manhandle me just now ?"
"I didn’t want you to scream," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to put your hand over the mouth of a fully-grown woman. She shook her head as if she had a sudden change of heart. I didn’t trust her. I shook my head in disbelief as she continued. "But I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." she looked back out the window before looking back at me. "Who were you with? A boy ?"
The thought of anyone calling Dante a boy was laughable .
I shrugged a shoulder. "Is it any of your business ?"
I never spoke to her this way. My pulse still raced with fear, my anger at nearly being discovered putting me on edge .
"None of my business?" she asked with a raised brow, as she stepped closer to me. "None of my business?" Cold fear clawed at my belly. I knew this was the quiet before she'd snap, before she'd let loose the full rage she had for me. "You live under my roof, you tell me where you are and who you're with," she hissed, and her hand raised, as if to grab me, or smack me, but then she kept her hand frozen in mid-air and she stopped .
She smiled, but it sickened me. My stomach twisted as she tilted her head to the side. Something wasn't right ...
"You know, you're right, sweetheart," she said, ending in a laugh that made my skin crawl. "You're so right. You're an adult. You owe me no explanation. If you want to spend your time with a man I don't know, or... whatever you're doing... I can't stop you. Lord knows I don't know where Violet and Elenora are half the time." She laughed another forced, half-crazed laugh. I held my breath. She was going to snap, and I didn't know what to expect when she did .
I said nothing as she continued. "I won't ask you again where you were. Just next time, be a dear and answer your phone, will you? Let me know where you are, Gabriella ?"
"Yes," I said woodenly, staring at her, not quite knowing what to expect. "Certainly. I will. I'm sorry I didn't ."
She nodded, then turned her back to me and walked toward the landing that would take her upstairs. Had she completely forgotten that she was angry with me ?
"It's time you got some rest, and I did, too," she said. "After all, you're opening in the morning, aren't you ?"
I wasn't but I knew this was my punishment. "Sure," I said .
That gave me four hours of sleep. Brilliant .
"Be sure you get there for inventory before we open, Gabriella. I must place the orders we need by noon tomorrow and I want to be sure the order is accurate ."
I merely nodded. It was a four-hour job at best. She’d punish me with work, then, in a way that she could control .
We reached the top of the stairs, and she opened the door, ushering for me to go in. I went ahead of her, wishing she were in front of me. I knew that I didn't want her behind me. I needed to watch my back... literally .
The door clicked shut behind us. For some reason, my stomach clenched again, my breath becoming ragged .
What would she do ?
I walked to my room and heard her walk to hers. I would not look back. I would not .
But as I shut and locked my door behind me, I couldn't help but feel Agatha had only just begun. Something terrible was going to happen, and I was powerless to stop it .
/> But as I slid under the covers, I remembered. I remembered how Dante looked, sitting astride his motorcycle, watching me go inside. The feel of his hand in mine, his forehead pressed against mine, his warmth on every inch of my skin .
I was drunk on Dante, and I hardly even knew him .
I had to get away .
But how ?
I made it to work in time, and went through early morning inventory. I comforted an employee who was distraught about a scheduled shift, and I brought Ruby her breakfast .
"Darlin', you look whipped," she said, shaking her head from side to side. Occasionally her southern roots surfaced and she lapsed into the vernacular .
Whipped. Heh. If she only knew .
"Sooo. Tired," I said, pushing her teacup to her on the table. "How are you ?"
"Oh, I'm good," Rub answered, fixing me with a serious eye. "And why, pray tell, are you so tired? Anything I should know about ?"
Ha. Only everything .
"Nah, it’s nothing." I wanted to tell her about him so badly. I wanted her to know how insanely hot he was. I wanted to squeal with her about how well he treated me, and how he called me baby .
But it would be best if she did not know. She blinked, and then her face broke out into a slow, shit-eating grin. "Nothing?" she asked. "Sugar, you think I was born yesterday ?"
I felt my cheeks flush with heat, and she stared at me. "Come here," she whispered, gesturing for me to bend over so she could whisper in my ear. "Is this the same gentleman caller as yesterday ?"
Her old-fashioned phrases tickled me, but this time I just squirmed. I looked around me, knowing Agatha wouldn't be anywhere in the vicinity yet, but it felt as if the very walls were her spies .
"Hush, Ruby," I told her, looking around me wildly .
"Don't you hush me," she said. "I want you to tell me what's going on. I just want to know is all. Is that too much to ask for a little old lady? Hmmm ?"
"Yes," I hissed, flicking open the menu and pointing to it. "Now tell me what you want for breakfast ."
She laughed, and I watched as her wrinkled skin sagged around her mouth and lips, betraying her age, but her eyes were as young as ever. "It's Thursday, honey," she said. "Why would you ask me what I want for breakfast on Thursday ?"
I blinked at her for a moment before it dawned on me. "I'm so sorry. I'm just tired today, Ruby. You want the stuffed pancakes with pecans and maple butter, and the strawberry compote on the side, right ?"
She grinned. "Of course. You sure you don't have a good reason to be tired?" Her face fell a bit and I smiled at her for a moment. Fine, then. I leaned in closer .
"I do, Ruby," I whispered. "I do have a good reason. And I'll tell you everything but I have to wait until the time is right, okay ?"
Her eyes met mine in solidarity before she nodded and patted my shoulder. “Of course, Gabriella. Now go get me my breakfast ."
I flashed a smile, and trotted to go get her breakfast, but I froze when I entered the kitchen. My step sisters were leaning against the large, butcher-block table, poring over a catalog .
"I'll wear the green one," Elenora said. "It'll bring out the color of my eyes and hide my curves a bit. But I'll be cold in just that, so I'll need a shrug, too," she mused .
"I'll wear the red one," Violet chimed in. "I think it's bold and catches attention, and how else are we supposed to get the attention of the prince? For real ?"
The prince? Well then. That was interesting .
I brought Ruby her breakfast and the morning went by quickly. With every minute that passed during the day, my heart lifted a little. It brought me closer and closer to seeing him .
I'd managed to forget the conversation I'd had with Agatha the night before. The truth was, I never did trust her, and I had no doubt she'd do something mean and vindictive when she had the chance, but her daughters had her occupied. I hoped that was enough for now. As I checked inventory at lunch and scrubbed the floor of the stock room, ignoring how my battered hands protested from such use, I heard Violet and Elenora rifling through the catalog again .
"Not those shoes," Elenora said. "God, Violet, you'll plummet to your death wearing those ."
I sighed. Did those two ever work ?
"I need height, though. I'm a shrimp and the prince is so tall." Violet’s voice took on an ethereal, dreamlike quality that made me roll my eyes .
"As if you'll get anywhere near him," Elenora snorted, and I heard a smack and a rustling of clothing before Agatha's sharp, "Girls!" stilled the noise .
I shook my head to myself, as I broke down boxes in the corner and stacked them for the recycling. Would they ever grow up ?
I jumped as someone banged on the door of the store room. "Are you coming out, or what?" Agatha barked. "We have customers out here waiting to be served dinner. Move it ."
"I'll be right there," I yelled, as I straightened up the boxes she'd made me pile. I frowned. She'd asked me to check on the inventory, combine what we had and get rid of the boxes, and now she wanted me to wait the tables? Did she think I could bilocate ?
I sighed to myself, as I looked heavenward. "Only for you, Dad," I said. I would do my duty, but that was all .
I opened the door and ignored the pang of jealousy that stung me as I walked past the open display of catalogs on the table in the kitchen, catalogs that glimmered with shoes and shrugs and shawls, heels and flats and platforms, clutches and handbags and wallets. They were shopping for the dance while I glanced down at my scuffed, worn flats, and walked on aching feet to serve those who waited. A little part of me wanted to be them. I wanted new, pretty things, and the chance to live a little, dream a little …
Then, I lifted my chin. Squared my shoulders .
I would dream. They couldn't take that away from me. But my dream was bigger than sequined clutches and killer heels. My dream rode a motorcycle, and tonight, he'd be waiting for me .
My silly thought made me giggle to myself. When I looked up, Agatha’s eyes narrowed on me. What was that all about? She didn't like me laughing or smiling? I hurried past her and went to the first man waiting to be seated, a tall, thin guy a few years older than myself, his dark hair cropped short. He had one long, silvery scar that went from his jaw to his temple, and when his eyes met mine, they lingered a little too long .
My heartbeat kicked up a notch .
"May I help you?" I asked the man, grabbing a menu. "Just a table for one, sir ?"
"Just one," he said, with a nod of cool geniality, but when his gaze fell to my hands, he froze, and he pointed at them. "What happened to your hands?" he asked. His gritty voice cut right through me. He seemed... lethal .
"Oh," I said with a forced laugh. "I just fell down is all." My voice shook with the little lie, but there was something about him that set me on edge .
"You fell?" he asked, as he followed me to a table at the back .
I nodded, ignoring the little voice inside me that said run , and seated him. "Right this way, sir. I'll be right with you ."
"Thanks," he said, taking his seat, his eyes once more traveling to my hands, before he smiled at me, something behind that smile made me squirm .
"Would you like to hear our specials for tonight?" I asked, and when he nodded, I threw myself into prattling on about Bolognese and pappardelle noodles, cream of something soup, and midnight fudge chocolate cake .
He nodded, and opened the menu. "I'll take a look, thank you. For now, a glass of merlot, please ."
I nodded and hastened to fulfill his order, before seating another half dozen people. When I came back with his wi
ne, he'd neatly folded his menu on the table and was leaning back in his chair, observing his surroundings .
I took his order, and a feeling of unease once again anchored in my belly. I glanced at my phone. Nine thirty. A little squeal escaped me then when I realized I had less than three hours to see him. It didn’t matter there was some creepy guy sitting at the table or that my sisters were buying out catalogs. Tonight, I’d be with Dante .
I maybe should have felt a bit guilty that he wasn't happy with me, but instead I just went about my work thinking over and over, "Tonight, Daddy's gonna spank me," with a suitable amount of repentance lest I actually think I was anticipating being punished .
But hell yeah, I actually was .
I served the man his meal, and when I slid the plate of flank steak on the table in front of him, he looked up, frowning, and nodded his thanks .
"Anything else I can get for you, sir?" I asked as politely as possible .
"Yes," he said, lifting his cloth napkin and flicking it out in front of him. "The name of the owner of this restaurant ?"
My belly flipped .
What?
His question startled me. "Agatha Reginald. Why ?”
He nodded slowly, lifting his knife and fork into his hand. "No reason," he muttered, looking away and thereby dismissing me .
Later, when I went to bring him his check, I found that he'd left a one hundred dollar bill on the table. I blinked, picked the bill up, and looked around. His plate was clean, and he was nowhere to be found. Huh .
I shoved it in my apron pocket and glanced at the time, then smiled to myself. Just an hour before I'd get to see him .
When the clock struck just before midnight in the kitchen, I untied my apron and hung it up. My shift had ended an hour ago, but Agatha needed me to stay on a bit longer, so I had, and now I needed to get a move on if I was going to be on time to see Dante. But as I stepped to the door, a shadow crossed my path. I looked up in surprise to see Agatha standing there. "Going so soon?" she asked .
"Yes," I said with a nod. "Did you find everything you needed to order?" I fluffed my hair and glanced at the mirror that hung in the back. I supposed I looked fine. My eyes looked tired and my hair was a bit askew, but knowing I was meeting Dante made the color rise on my cheeks. I ran a lip gloss brush over my lips, and smiled at the reflection, until my eye caught Agatha's. She was staring. And she did not look happy .