1606010409-A-Psychic-Hitch-Lynn.doc

by Psychic Hitch (lit)

  After drying off, Cheri moved around the room with as little noise as she could. She dressed and gathered her things. When the sound of the suitcase zipper pierced the quiet, she froze. He stirred but didn’t wake.

  On the memo pad next to the phone, she scribbled, Allen, thank you, but I can’t do this. She grabbed the doorknob and looked back. His leg had snaked out, reminding her of how it felt entwined with hers. With a lump stuck in her throat, she left the room.

  * * * *

  Cheri retrieved her lime-gold Mustang from the parking lot of the Greater Peoria Airport and headed home. She’d slept most of the flight and spent the rest chewing on her fingernails. The more she thought about it, the more she hoped conception wouldn’t happen. A man as young as Allen, and into a woman as he’d been with her, could be an issue if a child resulted. The palms of her hands dampened at the thought of his mouth driving her to another fantastic orgasm. She reached out and turned the radio on. Something had to get him out of her mind and Michael Bolton’s When a Man Loves a Woman wasn’t it. She flipped from the lite-rock station until she found the most unromantic, non-sexual, cold, horrible junk ever recorded.

  She rounded the ramp to merge with the traffic. For a Saturday, the traffic seemed light. Hopefully, it didn’t mean a dead lunch at the restaurant. She headed north to the War Memorial exit, toying with the idea of going into work for a while. There were always things to be done.

  Once home, she unpacked and sat down with her mail, avoiding the pull of the computer sitting in the corner of her living room. She hadn’t figured out what to say to Darius. Thank you or I’m sorry. But I fucked someone else. Hang on, maybe next month. She took a deep breath and let it out, wishing the need didn’t lay beneath the surface ready to torture her. You’d think her body would be ready for a rest, but no, Allen seemed to have come home with her. He needed exorcised. She drew her thighs together then jumped up, letting the chair scrape the floor. She left the mail on the table and went to dress for kitchen work.

  In a hurry to get away from the solitude of her apartment, she pulled her hair back in a short ponytail and grabbed the keys to the restaurant on her way out.

  * * * *

  Laughter and delicious smells reached her when she let her herself in the back door of the restaurant. The clatter of dishes and bantering among her staff eased the tension in her shoulders as she walked around the pot rack and into the office. She grabbed her file of recipes and noticed the log book sat open on the desk, not a good sign, but not her problem at the moment.

  Cheri grabbed an apron from the linen shelf outside the office.

  “Hey, Cheri. What’re you doing here?” Darren asked as he turned a steak on the grill.

  “Ssh, I’m not here. I’m your conscience and here to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Saw you limping. Seems someone needs to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Ha ha.” She went on the way back to the prep line. “Hi, Kim. I won’t be in the way, will I?”

  “No, I’m on my way out.”

  “Oh, ok. Who’s in next?”

  “I think Robert’s in at five.”

  “Well, enjoy the rest of the day. It’s beautiful out there.”

  “Thanks, I will.”

  Cheri pulled the recipe for a Peppermint Cheesecake from the file. If she made it today, it would save her time Monday. She had planned on making it in the morning for the afternoon meeting at the corporate office. The holiday features were on the list to discuss and she loved this cheesecake. She started pulling ingredients and realized if she went to the bar for the Peppermint Schnapps, she’d run into Emily and she wasn’t ready to discuss why her weekend had been cut short. At least, not until she felt she could handle it coolly. Emily, being her best friend, knew her too well. She went into the office and unlocked the liquor cabinet and searched for a bottle. There was a bottle. She grabbed it. “Thanks, Patty. You never let me down.” With it in hand, she returned to the prep area in the nick of time. She heard Emily’s voice and held her breath. Please don’t come back here, not yet. I need the time to fill my mind with work. She dropped chocolate graham crackers into the food processor then dumped cream cheese into the mixer while the crackers were turned into crumbs. Baking calmed her and she loved doing it.

  * * * *

  A good hour after the cheesecake had been put in the freezer to set, Cheri had it decorated and stood at the stove stirring a glaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. “Hi, Em.” She said when her friend approached her.

  “Don’t tell me you had another no-show?”

  “Not exactly, I cut my foot while walking the beach.” Cheri gave a half-hearted chuckle and looked up to catch Emily’s eyes roaming over her body.

  “Couldn’t be too bad. So, why are you here and not with him?”

  Cheri returned to the glaze. “I couldn’t.” Emily’s eyes bored into her. She could feel it. They’d been friends too long not to. Any minute the lecture would begin.

  “All right, you’re hiding something. Spill it.”

  Surprised, she stared at her Em. Emily almost sounded surprised herself that the one time she could spend the weekend with a guy, she ran home. “Hot,” she said as she picked up the pan and moved around her. After pouring the glaze over arranged flash-fried sliced peppers, squash and carrots, she picked up a fork and tasted it. “This is really good.” She handed a fork to Emily.

  Emily tasted the dish. “Yum! I taste orange and ginger.”

  “Yes. Orange Ginger and Pecan Glaze over flash-fried veggies.”

  “Are we adding it to the new menu?”

  Cheri shook her head. “I want to run it with stuffed chops next week.”

  Emily nodded. “Sounds good. Now stop stalling and tell me what happened.”

  Cheri washed her hands and remained silent. How do you tell your best friend about a man like Allen? Especially at work with dozens of ears tuned to any good gossip. “Em, let’s save it.”

  Chapter 5

  Emily stood with a smirk on her face and her arms folded when Cheri turned from the sink. “All right. A Good Samaritan stopped to help. He took care of me…the cut on my foot and this morning, I decided to come home.” When Emily stood waiting for more, she picked up the plate and handed it her. “Take this up for servers.”

  “This conversation isn’t closed. You’re hiding something,” she said as she took the plate.

  “Scat, I have pizzas to make.”

  Emily walked away, but turned and looked at her when she reached the ovens. Cheri waved her off to gather up the pan and utensils to take to the dishwasher. It would be senseless to try and explain what she didn’t understand herself.

  * * * *

  Cheri looked up from the skillet she’d just dumped ground sausage into to see Tina, their new hostesses, approaching her. “Hi, Tina. How’s it going?”

  “Kind of slow right now. You have a call on line two. He said his name is Allen.”

  She froze when tingling sensations shot through her mid-section and ended with wet heat in the crotch of her jeans. Damn it! Damn him! Her palms dampened as fast as the heat rose in her face. Then she realized Tina was walking away. “Tina, tell him I’m busy.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Positive she hadn’t told him where she lived or worked, she stabbed the meat with a spoon a bit harder than necessary, nearly sending the pan onto the floor. She gave a frustrated sigh and pulled it back. How did he find her? Then she heard Emily call back to the line. “Monty, we just had a six, ten and twenty walk in.” And Monty’s, “Fuck!”

  Why in the hell can’t groups call and give them a heads-up? She glanced at the clock. Damn it! They only had three servers on at two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. Last thing they needed to start a Saturday night off with was customer complaints because the servers are in the weeds. She moved the skillet to an unlit burner and walked away as she pulled her gloves off. Technically, she wasn’t there, but it was still her responsibility.
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  She strolled through the dining areas and stopped by the host stand. They were uncommonly busy for a Saturday afternoon in June, but the tables were spread fairly even among the servers.

  After getting a glass of soda water with a couple slices of lime squeezed in it from the bar, she walked around the bar booths to the semi-private section. There she found Emily working on the floor plan for the evening. “Em, I’m thinking with all the festivals and such, we’re going to be busy earlier. Maybe we should add an extra person to Saturday afternoons. Isn’t this the third week in a row we’ve been hit?”

  “Yeah, sales have been up three percent. I added a fourth BD next Saturday.”

  Cheri nodded her approval. “How’s it looking tonight?”

  “A bit more organized than last night.” She slid the floor plan and reservation list across the table. “Who’s Allen?”

  “No one.” Cheri looked over the list. “You may have an issue with the Shocker party. They’re sitters, so they may not be up in time for the Baker party to go there.”

  “Damn investors.” Emily looked at the board, at the list and then suggested, “We could put the Baker’s at 203; the Kendals should be gone by then.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m guessing Allen is the guy who fixed your foot? And he was hot and the sex hotter.”

  Cheri drank from the glass to help calm the sudden waves rolling through her. “I need to see if the line needs anything.”

  “Oh, my God! It was more than just sex. You had your first orgasm.”

  Cheri saw heads turn from the bar across the room as heat crawled up her neck and into her face. She walked away. Hell, now the entire room knew too much about her sex life.

  Emily caught up with her in the dish area. “Cheri, there is nothing wrong with enjoying yourself while you try to conceive.”

  “Cheri, call on line one. Allen—he’ll only speak to you,” Lucas said from the office doorway.

  Frustrated, she told Emily, “I need to put a stop to this.”

  Emily winked at her. “I bet he wants to know why you ran.”

  Cheri shrugged and went into the office. “Lucas, shut the door on your way out. Please.” She raised an eyebrow when he looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn’t.

  After the door was shut, she picked up the phone and hit the flashing light. “Hello.”

  “Cheri.”

  He sounded ticked off, but too bad. She’s the one who had a right to be pissed. “How did you get my number?”

  “Bribery.”

  Bribery. Yeah, ok. He did call the desk clerk by name. She sat down and fiddled with the corner of a stack of papers, uncomfortable with what kind of bribe swept through her mind. “What can I do for you, Allen?”

  “For starters, you can explain why you snuck out this morning.”

  “I didn’t sneak out. I left.”

  “Did I scare you that much?”

  How can he know her so well after one night? How could one night of…yeah, she had to admit it. He had turned the tables on her. Sex became hot, sweaty, passionate lovemaking. Something she’d never experienced or wanted. Her hands trembled at the memory of his clasped with hers as their eyes held each other’s and their bodies rose and fell with each thrust of his cock. The memory sent shivers through her. “Listen, it was one night of sex. Don’t make any more out it.” Cheri winced at the sultry shift in her voice.

  “Take down my number and call me when you get home.” He rattled it off, but she didn’t take it down.

  “Look, we were two strangers caught up in the moment. That’s all. Please, don’t call me again.”

  “Cheri—”

  She hung up the phone and pinched the corner of her eyes to stave off the sting of burning tears. The ache his voice caused pissed her off. How could it betray her common sense?

  When the threat of tears subsided, she took a long cleansing breath. What she needed would require family cooperation, but how did she explain why she returned early without enduring the lectures? Blow them off like before, she guessed.

  She picked up the phone and made a couple of calls to arrange an evening of fishing with a few of her nieces and nephews. It was her favorite pastime and they loved going with her. And they’d wear her out so she couldn’t dwell on what happened to her.

  Cheri rotated her head to break up the tension in her neck and returned to the prep area to make pizzas for the staff.

  A few minutes later, she heard the servers call back to let the kitchen know they were ringing in the party orders. She relaxed when it sounded like no part of the line had more thrown at them than any other.

  The fingers pressing the dough out in the baking sheets had her body quivering. She’d pressed into Allen’s flesh, smoothed out the shivers rushing through him and… Oh, God! Stop it! Her breasts tingled and she could recall, with vividness, how his fingers had molded them. She shuddered. Why did her body have to remind her of the way he nipped the sensitive flesh behind her knee or pumped his fingers in and out of pussy with fervor to ease the torturous need she had? Fuck! She stepped back from the pans. Numbers ran through her mind and she realized it was his number. Damn it! She set the pans aside and went to stir the sausage before she started slicing up toppings.

  “Thank God, you’re using a cutting glove, or I’d have to write you up twice.”

  Cheri, startled by the interruption, dropped the knife. “Monty, don’t sneak up on me!”

  “Are you trying to amputate your fingers?”

  “No.” She went back to her task, but slower. When he stood there, she looked at him. The laughter in his brown eyes told her word of her night in Florida had spread back to the kitchen. “Don’t say a word.”

  “I’m just happy you found someone to lay you good.”

  She pointed the knife at him. “Not one more word.”

  “Geesh, woman, I guess you didn’t get enough. Go back to Florida.” He walked away.

  “Damn, stupid men!” she mumbled and went to drain the sausage. “Why’d you sneak out? Go back, you didn’t get enough. Yeah, well, screw all of you.” She slammed the empty skillet on the shelf for dish pickup and went to put the pizzas together and get them in the oven.

  While they baked, she cleaned up her mess and sat in the office looking through allrecipes.com on the computer. It was one of her favorite sites, but it didn’t hold her interest. She exited the site and picked up her purse.

  Cheri stopped by the line where Monty stood, chatting with Darren. “Listen for the timer. I’m leaving,” she told Monty.

  He nodded and gave her a smile. “Hot date?”

  “Yep, with some fish. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  “I’d tell you to catch a big one, but then I think you did that last night.”

  Her eyebrow shot up and she stared at him.

  “Ok, subject’s dropped. Have fun.”

  “I will.” She headed toward the door, but turned back. “Don’t forget the pizzas in the oven.” He rolled his eyes and waved the knife in the air. Chuckling, she left.

  * * * *

  Tuesday morning, Cheri entered the office and slipped the wine invoices into Patty’s slot. She pulled a sheet of paper from the printer tray to label a couple of cases of wine for the Scranton anniversary party that evening, but the phone interrupted her. “Rogan’s Steakhouse,” she answered then listened. “Yes, Mrs. Scranton. The case of Frie Brothers Merlot came in this morning and the Relax Riesling is set aside and chilled.” She rolled her eyes as the woman went on. Another reason she needed no relationship. How could anyone be this anal over a twenty-five year anniversary party? “No, the shrimp isn’t in yet—”

  “Cheri,” a voice spoke from the doorway.

  She held her hand up to hold Bobby off. “Mrs. Scranton, Dixon’s will be delivering the seafood this afternoon, guaranteed.” With a hand over the mouthpiece, she asked, “What is it, Bobby?”

  “There’s a floral delivery out front.”

  “Sign for th
em and set them in the walk-in.” She reached for the banquet book and opened up to the Scranton sheet.

  “He asked specifically for you.”

  “I’ll be right out.” When Mrs. Scranton stopped rambling, she told her, “Mrs. Scranton, I have the information right here. Don’t worry. It’s going to go off without a hitch.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle when the woman apologized for being so nervous. “No, I won’t be here, but Lucas and Emily will be.” Cheri pulled the menu file up on the computer, looked it over to make sure the selections matched the sheet and pulled out the parchment paper for the printer. “Relax and enjoy yourself, I’ll be in tomorrow to hear how things went.” After the woman finally hung up, she put the paper in the printer tray and let the menu print while she went to take care of the flowers.

  When she reached the front of the restaurant, she smiled. “Hi, Jimmy.” She gave him a hug. “I wondered why Bobby wasn’t allowed to sign.”

  “The flowers are for you and Grandma wants to know who Allen is.”

  Her shoulders slumped, but she took the clipboard and signed it. “Tell her we’ll talk soon.”

  “Ok, Aunt Cheri. See ya.”

  With a frown, she ran her finger over a soft petal of a stargazer lily. It had been one of her favorite flowers to work with when she worked for her mother in high school. Hesitantly, she removed the card from the envelope. She’d bet her mother had a hand in choosing the type of flower. But, how did he know which florist? Hell, fate had a hand in this and she wanted to fire him. Even for the damn dream she had of Allen showing up at the restaurant.

  Lady, I’m obsessed, possessed. Allen the card read.

  “Ya think!” She rolled her eyes. Cheri shoved the card in the pocket of her skirt and carried the vase back to the office. You’d think when she hadn’t called, he’d get the message she meant it. But he didn’t; he had called for her both Sunday and Monday. She didn’t work Sundays, and Monday’s she went to the corporate office for meetings.