Admit It

by Francesca Penn

  “I should have just paid the bill, so your petty ass could be gone by now.”

  “There’s no need,” Janice interjected. “Dex waived everything you ordered, ma’am.” She turned to Darrin. “Sir, the only thing on the bill I gave you was your salad.” She opened the bill and showed him the itemized receipt where everything Cayla ordered was subtracted. His total was about fifteen dollars.

  “Okay.” He grumbled and signed the bill, only leaving Janice a two-dollar tip. “Let your bro take you home.” He was three steps out when he pivoted and returned to the table. “I’m taking my flowers.” He snatched the crusty ass grocery store carnation bouquet off the table and stormed out just as Dex was nearing her table.

  This is soooo fucking embarrassing. Cayla fought the desire to cover her face. She suddenly wished she was a Tanooki Mario. She would either fly out of there or turn into a damn statue. Cayla passed Janice the one-hundred dollars and insisted that she earned it. Her perfectly highlighted blonde and light pink head saved her several times from the worst date ever.

  Dex placed a plate and to-go box in front of her. “What’s this?” she asked when he slid in the chair across from her.

  He shrugged. “Lemon crème cake with fresh raspberries and a white chocolate glaze. Dessert for two was on us tonight, but I gave you the extra slice to-go since your date bailed.”

  Cayla’s glare went unnoticed as Dex plucked a white-chocolate covered raspberry from her plate and popped it in his mouth. Even the way he chewed was sexy. He licked at errant drop of chocolate off his lip and Cayla almost died instantly. She needed a hobby, a very time-consuming hobby that would put her desire for Dex to bed. She inwardly rolled her eyes. Why did I have to think of a bed? She couldn’t focus, and Dex looking at her like she was an offering on his dessert menu was not helping.

  “Come on, eat up so your bro…” He used air quotes to mock Darrin. “Can take you home.”

  Chapter 8

  Cayla sunk down in her cubicle wishing it would turn in to an actual office. She would love to drown out her co-workers. She only liked about three people in her office – it used to be four until the Darrin debacle. She couldn’t help but notice the same flowers he’d confiscated were displayed on Cheryl’s desk the very next morning. She’d first wondered if there was a sale on the dastardly things, but seeing Darrin whispering in her ear in the breakroom was confirmation that he’d recycled the cheap flowers.

  Cheryl’s curvy body - that was always squeezed into too-tight clothing - leaned seductively into Darrin making a lot of inappropriate promises to anyone that bothered to pay attention. Cayla tried not to sneer; it had nothing to do with the display itself, it was the people involved. Cayla and Cheryl had never been able to get along.

  Cheryl was the first person she’d met on her first day working at Tech’s Tec. Since Cheryl is the office manager and executive administrative assistant to the CEO, she’d assumed that Cayla was one of the new administrative assistants and immediately started bossing her around as if she were beneath her. Cayla quickly pointed out that she was, in fact, the new analyst and not under her control or authority. Cheryl’s dislike for Cayla grew.

  Cayla wondered if it was because she was younger and appeared inexperienced, but Kalilah had other theories. Kalilah believed that Cheryl was jealous because Cayla was younger and made twice as much as she did.

  “Pretty and smart.” Kalilah had said. “Most men can’t handle it, and some women can’t stand it.”

  Cayla felt inclined to believe her since Kalilah had to fight her own battles to prove her self-worth after being rapidly promoted to Executive Vice President at a young age. The majority of the VPs at her job were older men with more experience, and she initially didn’t receive any cooperation from any of them, her now husband included. Granted, Nick didn’t know her position and wasn’t rebelling against her; he just didn’t want to do Vice President duties no matter the leader.

  Cayla smiled to herself. She was proud of her sister’s union. The fact that Nick was an IT wizard made her life easier. Before Nick, Cayla was Kalilah’s personal technical support. Kalilah hated technology and refused to learn basic troubleshooting; she only wanted to know enough to do her job. Now, Cayla didn’t have to stop by her house at ten or eleven o’clock at night because Kalilah refused to cooperate over the phone.

  As time progressed, Cayla had to agree with her sister. Cheryl was a hater. Not that it mattered, but nothing Cayla ever did was pleasing to Cheryl – socially. Cheryl didn’t have any level of understanding for Cayla’s job to ever question her work knowledge, but she tried to upset her every chance she got.

  When Cayla happened to walk into the break room to see the two most annoying people in the world cuddled up in an intimate conversation, she’d immediately heard the lyrics to Big Sean’s song “I Don’t Fuck with You.” She could tell by the look on their faces that both wanted their association to bother her for two different reasons. Darrin wanted her to see how fast he’d moved on from their date two days ago, and Cheryl loved the idea of anyone preferring her over Cayla.

  Her instinct told her that petty ass Darrin must have talked shit about her to Cheryl -- probably as soon as he left The Food Lab.

  “Oh, Cayla, sorry we didn’t see you there,” Cheryl oozed with satisfaction while Darrin flashed her a smug grin.

  She wanted to tell them how much she didn’t care about them breaking at least ten HR rules just for her sake, but they wouldn’t believe that she didn’t care. The two sociopaths would think they’d gotten to her.

  She smiled and shrugged. “Don’t mind me, just warming up my lunch.”

  She didn’t want either of their attention, and she had a four-day weekend coming up. She hummed while her food warmed and picked out one of the complimentary beverages from the office’s cooler. It was one of the things on the very short list of perks for the company. She would gladly purchase her own beverages to get away from her toxic work environment.

  The two dummies continued their display. Since most of the floor left for lunch every day, they were in no danger of being caught. She’d grabbed her food and wandered out of the breakroom to show just how unaffected she was. She tried to reach deep and do some soul searching to see if part of her cared…nope.

  Now, however, she’d spent the last five minutes sulking because they were still in there and so was her fork. Damn. She’d searched her desk and purse for a plastic fork. No luck. She had to suck it up and let the bastards think she was curious about what they were doing. She let out a deep sigh, slid her feet back into her pumps, and ventured back into the breakroom.

  They’d moved to the table and were sitting close with Cheryl’s mocha, French-tipped hand perched on his thigh. Don’t roll your eyes, don’t roll your eyes...Cayla repeated the mantra in her head as she crossed the breakroom with the feeling of four eyes burning into her back. Cayla heard Cheryl gasp before she heard the stranger’s voice.

  “Uh…Hello. I’m looking for Cayla Wright?” Cayla turned to see a unique arrangement of coral, pink, and red roses. She’d never seen the combination before, but it was beautiful.

  “That’s me,” she confirmed hesitantly, not sure what to expect. The older gentleman gave her a gentle smile and extended his arms.

  “These are for you.” She put her hand over her mouth in surprise and shook her head in disbelief. His smile widened. “I promise these are really for you. I spent at least thirty minutes helping the fella pick them out.”

  Cayla accepted the flowers. “Thank you. This is a unique arrangement. Very lovely.” The older man laughed, his brown skin crinkled by his eyes.

  “He wanted me to personally deliver them since I sold them and put it together. He wanted me to explain to you that he wanted a different arrangement made especially for you because he couldn’t pick just one color to express his sentiments.”

  Cayla knew each color rose was supposed to have a different meaning; she’d just never paid attention to the meanings
since guys usually just bought red roses. “What do the colors mean?”

  “Red is for beauty, respect, and passion; pink is for admiration, grace, and sweetness; and coral is for fascination and desire.” He looked at her again and laughed as if remembering something. “Oh, and he said he’d bet me a thousand bucks that pink was your favorite color.”

  Cayla looked down at her light pink knee-length shift dress and grinned. “I hope you didn’t take that bet.” She thought of all the pink things in her closet, Dex was paying attention. She knew it was Dex without reading the card because of the thousand-dollar bet. He was always making bets on trivial things. Kalilah was probably happy he’d only bet her fifty dollars that she’d get pregnant.

  The florist laughed again. “No, I was smart enough to not take the bet. I understand his fascination; you are a beautiful young lady. You have a wonderful day. The card is attached.”

  “Thank you again. I have an idea who sent it. Let me guess. About 6’2’ and muscular?” He tapped his head to confirm her suspicions. “Is your business card attached as well? You do beautiful work.”

  He took a step towards the door. “No, sorry. The name of my shop is on the envelope. Please visit our website. I’m the owner.”

  He was gone, but the two office rodents were still rooted in the same spot and so far into her business that they could probably read the card through the sealed envelope. Cayla couldn’t help but beam with excitement. Her smile wasn’t for them; it was genuine shock and happiness from receiving a pleasant surprise. A heavy surprise.

  Luckily, Felix, one of the three people she actually liked was passing by and saw the huge bouquet. “Wow, those are awesome, Cay – who’s the admirer…”

  “Probably that restaurant manager guy,” Darrin quipped. “The poor man probably spent his whole paycheck trying to impress her.”

  Cayla rolled her eyes. Darrin clearly didn’t know who Dex really was, and she was not about to correct him. Dex was taxed more than Darrin made, but she was graceful enough to not point that out.

  “I would rather have a man with less money who is willing to spend hard earned money on quality than a cheap man with a lot of money.”

  Felix nodded. “You are supposed to cherish your woman. If he spent his whole paycheck every now and then and they’re happy, then what does it matter?”

  Cayla shook her head. “Don’t mind him, Felix, he just needed another reason to bring up his net worth to impress Cheryl.” Cheryl scoffed but didn’t say anything.

  “Let me be a gentleman and help you with those.” Felix grabbed the vase and headed to her desk.

  “Thank you!” Cayla called after him and grabbed her fork before following Felix and leaving two stunned idiots behind. She highly favored Dex’s one-upmanship skills even if he didn’t know that’s what he’d just done.

  Dex stretched in his office and stared at the ceiling. The paperwork was the worst part of the restaurant business. The food and people were the parts of his job that he lived for, and the rest were just necessary evils. He knew some of the duties could be passed off to his management, but he needed to be part of the process and know how to do it himself.

  He’d heard of many companies going under because the boss didn’t pay attention to the details. Not on his watch, even if it did make him tired. His black office phone lit up and started to ring. He grabbed the welcomed distraction; he half-wished it was Cayla telling him that she was so impressed with his roses that she’d left work early and was lying naked in his bed waiting for him. He smirked to himself; he always liked to dream big.

  “The Food Lab. Dex speaking.” He furrowed his brow in confusion when the woman began to speak.

  “Oh! I’ve finally reached the man of mystery. Do you know how hard you are to track down, dear?” She sighed in relief then powered on. “Tell me. Is it by design or accident that it’s almost impossible to find the owner of The Food Lab?

  “Maybe both.” Dex didn’t want attention just yet. He wanted his food to stand on its own merit, not his family’s name. He’d thought he did a good job burying his name, but this lady was obviously a professional. He just needed to find out which type of professional.

  She let out a husky laugh. “Imagine my delight when I found out that you are just as attractive as you are talented.” Her voice was sultry, almost like Michelle Pfeiffer as Cat Woman, and he knew she was the type of woman that was used to getting her way. But, what did she want?

  “Ma’am…”

  “Oh, no…not ma’am. Call me Izzie.”

  “Okay. Izzie, I like compliments as much as the next person, but I don’t need my ego stroked. What’s the bottom line?”

  Izzie hummed in satisfaction. “Direct. I like it. My name is Izzie Daniels, and I am an agent to the stars. Well, the food stars…” Dex fingers glided over his keyboard. “Googling me, are you? Attractive, talented, and smart. We can do big things together.” The excitement in her voice was contagious which irritated Dex. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be excited about.

  “What big things?”

  Izzie huffed, disappointed in his inability to see the big picture. “Dex, I plan on making you a big star!”

  “Whoa.” Dex sat back in his chair and rubbed his hair. “Who said I was trying to be a star?”

  “Your food did, dear! Your reputation found me all the way in L.A.” Izzie’s voice dropped back to a normal tone. “I don’t know if your Google search showed you how long I’ve been in business. You just might not grasp the significance of this moment. Izzie. Doesn’t. Search. For. Talent.”

  Dex’s internet search provided him names of her current and former clients. All of them were still relevant food celebrities. Real excitement pumped through his heart. He could boost his career and have direct communication with some of his culinary idols. He could be part of their world. His money and family’s name could push him into a lot of circles, but he refused to use the billionaire mogul he called Dad to push him into his most desired circle. He wanted to earn it, and Izzie – if her reputation was correct – had the means to get him there legitimately.

  “Are you always this quiet?” Izzie’s question bought his attention back to the phone that was still propped up to his ear.

  “No. I was just processing.” Dex took a steadying breath before continuing. He always made it a habit to recap important conversations. “So, you are saying people were so impressed with my food that it reached you all the way in California? And now that you’ve seen pictures of me you are willing to make me a star?”

  Izzie laughed. “Yes and no. The reputation of your food was enough for me to decide to check you out and possibly take you under my wing. I will be there next week to try your food, and we can talk after that. Your looks are very sweet icing, my dear. If you are equally talented and good looking you could be bigger than any of the stars.” Izzie pressed on. Dex could tell she was the kind of woman that didn’t like being interrupted. “Think about it. Most of the major food stars are okay looking. None of them are really movie star gorgeous. Although I’m sure your pictures don’t do you justice, I’m sure you are marginally more attractive than the men. I have a meeting now. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

  Dex’s line went dead. He smiled and thought about his abrupt exits from phone conversations. They would get along wonderfully. Dex turned off his computer after saving everything. He now had too much adrenaline to sit still for paperwork. He walked around his office to ensure he was awake and not dreaming. He doubled back to his desk and grabbed his landline. The receiver was still warm. Definitely not dreaming.

  He pulled off his business clothes, threw them in his dry-cleaning duffle, and donned his workout clothes. He felt more at home in his Nike outfit – a pair of lightweight black Nike joggers, a long-sleeved white fitted Nike shirt, and black and white tennis shoes – than he did in slacks and button ups. Most of his clothes were Nike workout clothes.

  They were Nike only because he liked how Nike fit his body. H
e wasn’t interested in being a walking billboard, but he liked the comfort, and he was constantly looking for some sort of physical exertion. He loved being outside and pushing his physical boundaries. He still frequented the gym, but his outdoor activities had diminished greatly since opening The Food Lab. Not that he was complaining. His venture had proven to be far more successful than he’d originally imagined; he just needed to find the proper balance of both of his worlds.

  He popped into the employee area to grab a bottle of water. He almost started to whistle as he neared freedom until his body collided with a smaller, softer body. A few of the employees teetered and his nose knew before his eyes that it was Daniella. She lingered far longer than necessary. He used his free hand to separate them.

  Dex has never been so happy to have so many employees around.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” The predatory gleam in her eyes as she “braced” herself by touching his chest made Dex inwardly groan with irritation. She ran into him on purpose. He took an additional step back.

  “I’m great, Boss Man.” She smoothed her brown waves and subtly stuck out her chest. He looked at some of his other female employees and back to her. Her shirt was tighter and unbuttoned low enough to give her plenty of cleavage. He’d noticed for the hundredth time that she was attractive and vapid. She did nothing for his libido.

  “Good. I don’t think you are in the proper dress code.”

  She smirked. “On the way to the gym? I make an excellent workout partner. I have a lot of energy.” Her eyes drunk him in like they’d just walked through the desert. Is she always this creepy?

  Dex hated being in this position. He didn’t want her and tried every subtle way to get rid of her, but she either didn’t understand or purposely ignored his objections. If she wasn’t an employee, he would have shut her down quick and caustic, but he didn’t know how to navigate the fragile line at work.