“He parties and likes women a lot. You don’t. He wants to press forward when you say you should take your time. It seems like a bunch of unwarranted hassle,” I answer forwardly without apology. Dabbing my mouth with my napkin.
“Yes, but he’s the financial backing I need. I can’t afford this all on my own. Not to go as big as I want in such a short amount of time. One or two chain restaurants maybe. But to hit eight to ten in less than a year. I can’t pull that much resource from my other restaurants without border lining on insanity. I’ve already paid my loans with my other chains off. I refuse to rack up another ten million in debt or more to get this underway.” The deepness of his voice in business mode speaks wonders to my soul.
“Then maybe you should do the two restaurants and gather enough income then push to add more in the next three years instead of one. If you’re splitting the profits I would think that’s smarter. Plus you’re not dealing with a flashy man like Andrew to keep under wraps. He owns big name single restaurants that are amazing. But you only do single ones for a few reasons. You don’t like duplicates or you can’t handle the structure of global restaurant management,” I add.
He sits back in his chair thinking, his hand playing with his short trimmed goatee.
“Plus, if you need backer money without the intrusion of a bank I can surly help to some degree. If my calculations are correct I’m sitting on about three hundred thousand in savings you’re welcome to borrow. All I want is a menu item named after me,” I chuckle, but I’m serious.
“It’s going to be a gourmet pizzeria chain. There are tons of Domino’s and Pizza Huts. But no place specializes in gourmet pizza with strange but delicious toppings. And I thank you for wanting to help but you’ve already done plenty.”
“The Monroe pizza. I like the sound of that. Make it with sun dried tomatoes, capers and white cheeses. People will think it’s after Marilyn Monroe. No one would be any the wiser. I’ll give you the money when you bring me home on Tuesday morning,” I slyly add in and see if he catches that I want to extend my vacation a day.
“I can’t take your money Alexis. And Tuesday? I thought we were leaving Monday?” he catches me. Brad’s one smart cookie.
“Yes, you can and you will if you want to do this on your own. I know that’s not a lot of money to help but it will do more good than sitting in a safe in my bedroom. Plus I know mama will kick your butt if you don’t pay me back. It’s a win, win if you don’t want to work with Andrew. Which I get the sense you don’t. Plus I can help during the days if you want free labor. And if you’re going Italian themed with décor I could sketch some less provocative nudes. And yes I’ll let you buy the supplies.”
He looks to his mom and sister and back at me, then back at them.
“Just do it, family helping family is smart, son. If you don’t want to work with that Andrew fellow and are okay with stretching out the chains progression, I’d take it,” Mama reasons with him and I give her a thank-you smile. She winks back at me. Mama has the most radiant blue eyes. Brad’s eyes take after hers. Amy has green blue eyes, not the same but just as captivating.
I don’t know why I want to help Brad out so much but I do. I feel like I need to. He’s like family to me in a sense because of Amy and Ruby. And family is supposed to help family. It doesn’t hurt that I really like him. Okay, it’s moving into the more than like category but when it’s unrequited it doesn’t matter.
“Listen guys, I appreciate the input. I’ll think about it. This isn’t something I can just decide right this second. Plus, we have some errands to run.” He stands and I shoot back the last of my water and follow him to leave.
In the car on the drive into town he strums his fingers on the steering wheel as we rock out to Fall Out Boy. He’s in a daze, paying attention to only the music and driving. The wheels are turning inside his head; I can see it on his face.
We pull up outside a huge white pole barn with a sign out front that says Welcome to Josie’s Antiques.
He gets out and I follow him inside. This place is massive with furniture everywhere. Old cedar chests, bedroom sets, it has a loft above our heads with a large staircase the leads up. Tables upon tables are arranged with antiques, all in pristine condition. I flip some of the colorful price tags around and even the prices are reasonable. More than reasonable compared to city pricing. I pick up a blue wavy art glass serving bowl that would make a perfect centerpiece for a table or Brads Island. He says he likes blue and it’s a steal for only ten dollars. I check for chips or cracks and it’s mint.
“Hey Brad,” I call to him. He’s chatting with the older woman behind the counter.
“Yeah?”
“Do we have room in the car to pick up a few items for your apartment?” I ask, holding up the bowl for him to see.
“That’s beautiful. Yeah we’ve got room. Are you still wanting to leave Tuesday? If you do, I have to rearrange my schedule.”
The woman slides him over a small box. I can’t tell what it is but it must be what his mother sent him to retrieve.
“Yes, I’d like to stay as long as we can. If you have to go back sooner I’ll just get a rental from in town.”
“You’re not doing that. I’ll cancel with Andrew Monday night.” He turns and tucks the small white box into his pocket and walks over to me. “Thanks Josie,” he says over his shoulder.
“Anytime Bradley, it was wonderful to see you again. Just holler if you need anything.” She retorts, her voice is sweet with an aged uniqueness.
We make our way in and out of tables and furniture. I love the smell of antiques there’s something so pleasing about the aged smell. It’s like your soaking up years of knowledge and history into your veins with each breath.
I stumble upon a few vintage items that I know Brad’s apartment could use. Like a black Victorian five-by-seven picture frame and five distinctively different cut glass decanters one of which comes with a set of six matching low ball blue rimmed glasses. And a few other small items. The best part about it all we left with a few boxes full of stuff that were all neatly packed with newspaper to prevent damage and our cost was less than a hundred dollars. The sad part is that we don’t have room in the car to fit big furniture items. That I’ve fallen in love with.
Brad tucks the boxes into the BMW’s spotless trunk and hops in the driver side.
“Where to next?”
“Mama has me picking up something from Mrs. Cleary in town,” he says, putting the peddle to the metal and coasting our way out onto the two lane road that leads into the main part of the small village that Vino’s, Brads restaurant, is conveniently located in.
“So what did you pick up back there?” I point out the back window with my thumb.
“I don’t have a clue. I didn’t open the box I just retrieved it for mama. I have manners. Ms. Nosy pants,” he teases.
We pull up in front of a small brick cottage set in the middle of town. I stay seated and allow him to retrieve the next item on the list. I watch his sexy ass make its way up the walk leading to the house and can’t tear my eyes away from him. He’s so handsome and the way he walks, has a purposeful weight behind every step. He rings the bell and a moment later I see this older woman about the same age as Ruby answer. Pushing open the screen door she hands Brad a white paper shopping bag and closes the door with a friendly smile.
“All done now. I need to buy some clothes if you insist we stay here two more nights,” he says, sitting back down in the car, throwing the white bag into the back. Obviously it’s not breakable or we’d be in big trouble.
“Did you look inside that one?” I eye the white paper, making a bold statement against the black leather. It screams open me, and take a peek inside.
He shakes his head. “No, like I said nosy pants, it’s none of my business.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” I press. My elbow relaxing on the black armrest in the middle of the car. In secret, I hope he rests his next to time. I love the spark
that ignites when our flesh meets. It’s exciting and arousing. In my job I’ve been horny more times than I can count and quite a few men are great in the sack. But Brad doesn’t have to even touch me sexually or promote promiscuity like I’m used to, in order to turn me on like a light switch. This little obsession I’m developing with this man is unhealthy and beyond uncalled for. But I can’t help myself. Something about him draws me like a moth to a flame. I’ve been subtle about my feelings thus far or have tried to be. The question I can’t seem to answer is how long I am going to be able to hold out before ruining everything.
Two blocks over and he parks in front of a local clothing shop in the middle of the quaint downtown. Old buildings three stories high encase the tiny main street that runs straight through the middle of this adorable rural village.
“No, I don’t find my mother’s errands the least bit curious. She’s my mother.” He opens the door and slides out. In tow I enter the shop. It’s small and I can’t imagine how anyone can keep afloat in this economy with such a little clothing store in the middle of BFE.
“Bradley!” a younger woman with bright red hair screeches and bolts out of the back room bound for Brads welcoming arms.
A jealous ping bites my heart.
She leaps and he catches her crashing into him with arrant force. Knocking the wind out of his chest with a loud gust. He chuckles and kisses her head. Releasing their embrace.
She punches him in the chest playfully. “I’m missed you so much, you haven’t called in forever,” she whines and frowns deep like a pouty child. She’s about my height, five-five. Her eyes are a dark mahogany brown and her hair is bright as a fire engine that clashes perfectly with her pale freckled skin. She’s beautiful in a cutesy country way. Not modelesque by any standard but she’s got the goods and definitely holds Brad’s attention.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve not been in town for a while. I came in with Alexis yesterday,” he says pivoting to introduce us. Her eyes glare unhappily at me like I’ve just interrupted the reunion she’d been hoping for. I have this uncanny feeling she’s in love with him. I know the feeling. Sorta.
“Hi.” I do a short sweet wave and bat my eyelashes. I’m being a bitch. So sue me.
“Hi, I’m Carry.” She tries to smile but it comes out more of a contorted half smile with a grimace underneath. Not becoming of her in the least bit. Carry relaxes her face and returns her attention and obvious affection to Brad. “So what can I help you with handsome.” She gently caresses his shirt covered chest.
I resist the urge to protest because I have no right. But that delicate hand of hers is unwelcome and it has to go. “I came into town spur of the moment and I’m in need of some clothes.”
A naughty smile formulates at the corners of her glossed lips and I instantly hate this woman. Granted, I don’t know her. But I know that look. I’m an escort. I graduated flirting and cock sucking 101 with that smile. Her index finger does flirty little circles on his chest and she bites her bottom lip. Oh, please don’t make me watch another second of this. I want to browse around the room and checkout the merchandise but it seems that I’m not the only one for hire in this building. And she’s putting on the best show in town right now. Bitch.
“Okay, Bradley,” she says emphasizing the LEY in his name. I want to yack. Maybe if I go out to the car he can fuck her in the back and buy some clothes so we can get on with our day?
But truth be told, I don’t want him to sleep with her. I know that is wrong and the biggest double standard if there ever was one. But I hate the thought of his cock, no matter its size, shape or color to be shoved into another woman’s hole. It taints the perfect picture I have of him in some way.
“Thanks Carry, I think Alexis and I will browse and I’ll let you know if we need any help,” he states evenly his expression unreadable. And he walks around her. The look on her face droops into desperation and she tails him like a lost puppy dog.
“This is a nice shirt and would look wonderful on you,” she says, holding up a blue collared shirt.
“What do you think, Alexis?” he points to the shirt that lover girl is displaying.
I shrug. “Dunno, you decide.”
I mosey around the room and find a beautiful white cotton dress that’s floor length and has a brown braided belt attached. Perfect country vacation wardrobe. I select my size and drape it over my arm for purchase.
“How about this?” Brad calls from the other side of the store holding up a black t-shirt with skulls on the chest. I would normally say no to that. But the look on his face and the truth that he could pull off a paper bag with sex appeal. I nod.
“Is that a yes?”
“If that’s what you want to buy Brad, get it.”
His shoulders slump and he hangs it back on the rack like a dork. I come across the room and pull the shirt off the hanger in his size and push it into his chest. Instantly the world around us fades and I’m pulled back into a Brad and Alexis bubble. His hand finds mine that’s holding the shirt to his chest and grips it tightly. My breathing hitches and I have the sudden urge to kiss him and my panties dampen.
“Ah, hem.” Carry clears her throat driving me back into the real world. I yank my hand out from beneath his and he groans in a strange protest. “Here.” She offers him some jeans in his size. He holds them out, examining them with the black tee hanging over his forearm and I snatch it up before it falls, laying it over my dress.
“These will do.” He folds them up. “Do you have any boxer briefs?” he asks, glancing around the room.
“Yes in the case over here.” She waves her hand like Vanna White to a silver display case. Inside are rows of men’s boxers and women’s panties. She opens the back and drapes a few over the top of the glass.
“I love those.” I point to some black silk boxers in the case.
“Bradley doesn’t do boxers,” she snaps caressing the fabric of the boxer briefs she’s personally selected for him. Could she be any more obvious of her affections towards him? Maybe they dated? I don’t know but I am going to find out once we leave.
“I do now,” he smiles, tapping the glass over the boxers I picked. I do a little dance inside. Take that caddy bitch. “Pick another pair, Alexis.”
“I shouldn’t be selecting your undergarments,” I protest weakly. This is kind of fun. I’ve never been underwear shopping for a man before. Sure my clients have purchased lingerie for me but never together.
“You’re selecting them now. So finish. I need a pair for Tuesday since you’re determined to keep me locked away for another day,” he chuckles, holding his jeans to his chest. His biceps are bulging in his shirt and I blink a few times to refocus.
Then I pinch his arm and Carry just about comes unglued with a snarl and her face cloaked with pure anger directed at me. Ok, if this doesn’t egg me on to piss her off more, I don’t know what else would.
I sweetly caress his reddened forearm and he sucks in a breath.
“We’ll take those,” I point to the blue skull boxers with black elastic waistband.
Reluctantly she pulls both pairs from the display case and goes to slide it shut.
“No, just wait,” he orders pointing to a pair of pink heart boy shorts. “Those. And those.” He points to a pair of black see through lace thong with tiny pink hip bows. He turns to me. “If I wear the underwear you pick the next two days, you wear the ones I pick.” He smiles, as sly as a dog. I can’t argue with that logic and to be honest it makes my pussy tingle with illicit desire. My panties dampen fruther and I close my eyes to picture him wearing those boxers crouching between my legs, wanting me and only me. His eyes piercing my soul and telling me he loves me. Damn-it, he’s way too dangerous.
I shake my head back and forth to clear my naughty head and follow him to check out. He pulls a green long sleeve shirt from the rack beside the counter and pulls my dress and his skull shirt from my hands. I open my mouth to object and he shoots me a don’t-even-think-about-it glance
. Fine, but this isn’t over.
***
“So how long did you two date?” I ask bluntly on our way up the gravel road to Lolita’s. It’s been quiet except for music the rest of the way here. I had to give him the silent treatment for a little while to show him how displeased I am that he paid for my dress and panties.
“Who? Carry?”
“Yes, duh. She’s smitten with you.”
He mocks a laugh and bounces his head on the headrest of his seat. “You’re nuts.”
“No, it’s true,” I argue and know I’m right. It’s obvious.
“I know, I slept with her one drunken night. I’ve never dated her and she’s been trying to have sex with me again ever since.”
We pull outside the B&B. “You must have been one hell of a lay to hook her on the first try.”
I open the door and peer back at him and his face is bright red with embarrassment.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs shyly.
“Oh, come on Brad your either a rock star in the sack or you’re not.” I get out, picking a clothes bag from the backseat to carry in.
“I’ve not had complaints if that counts.”
“I’d imagine you wouldn’t,” I blurt and instantly regret saying it.
“What’s the supposed to mean?” he asks once we get inside.
“It means you’re a beautiful man and I’m sure women lineup around the corner to ride the Brad train.” I blush and go upstairs.
Chapter Nineteen
We spend the rest of the two-day vacation with mama and Amy. We played poker every night. Brad won on Monday. Must have learned the tricks of the game from his mama. We ate at Vino’s together twice as a family. It was an amazing experience and by the time we left this morning, I am convinced I know what being in love with someone feels like. I hate it. It hurts and it’s confusing and it’s all consuming. I don’t want to leave Brad. Even though we didn’t get much alone time after that first night. We had mostly family time which was almost just as good. Joking and laughing with mama and her big mouth. Two days of her trying to convince me to father her son’s children. The thought isn’t half bad when I think about it now. Not becoming a mom because I knew I’d never fall in love and want to have a family is one thing. Now I am in love, or I think so. But it’s not returned and my job prevents me from pursuing any feelings I may think I have. All I know Brad is the first decent guy I’ve met who hasn’t tried to sleep with me or buy my love. So, I’m attached because of that. This is uncharted territory for sure. Terrifying as hell.
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