by C. A. Harms
“Quinn,” I said, nodding toward the chair across from me. “Take a seat.”
She quietly and cautiously lowered herself onto the chair, her purse strap straining from the tense grip she had on it. There was no hiding the fact that she felt afflicted. I wasn’t sure what to say to her. I was torn between bringing up the other night and just pretending it never happened.
More than anything, I wanted to walk around my desk, pull her from the chair, and kiss her. I wanted her to admit that the night happened and that she shouldn’t have left. I needed to know I was still on her mind, because damn it, she had been lingering in mine.
“Why did you leave?” The question escaped my lips before I could stop it.
Her gaze shot up and met mine. She bit down on her lower lip, staring at me, a worried expression covering her beautiful features. It was as if she was playing out her reply in her head over and over before responding.
“It was a mistake,” she whispered.
I felt my body flinch at her words. A mistake.
I had to admit that was not the response I was hoping for. I thought maybe she would shoot back something about me not wanting her there in the morning or a lame excuse like that. Then I could have reassured her, letting her know I woke up disappointed she was gone. Now I was just pissed.
“A mistake,” I repeated as I stared back at her, unable to form another response. Aggravated and so close to saying things I couldn’t take back, I let out a slow, calming breath. I grabbed her résumé and lifted it from the desk, averting my eyes from hers. “Well then, uh.” I cleared my throat, “Let’s get on with this interview. We’ll just pretend your mistake never happened. That’s obviously the way you want it, so that’s how we’ll play this out.”
“Maybe I should just go,” she whispered, her voice shaking and unsure.
“You came here for the waitressing position, correct?” She nodded cautiously. “You’re the first one who has applied with some actual experience. So for your benefit and mine, I’ll just pretend I’ve never met you before today. Is that what you want, Quinn?”
Once again she nodded as she swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. The throat I could still picture trailing my tongue along, lightly sucking.
I had a hard time concentrating throughout the entire interview. I couldn’t get the images of her beneath me, naked, out of my mind, her soft moans ringing in my ear as I drove into her.
Fighting off a raging hard-on was almost impossible. My mind was going back and forth between anger and lust. Keeping my head on straight was something I never had a hard time doing until now.
She fit the position perfectly. Seeing the name Spencer’s on her résumé made my throat tighten. Knowing she worked in a gentlemen’s club didn’t sit well with me. The fact she was on display for horny men was disturbing. A strong sense of possessiveness filled me.
“Well, Quinn, the position’s yours if you’re interested.” I zoned in on her lips, which now held a sweet semblance of a smile.
“Yes, I am, thank you,” she whispered.
“I’ll have Callie get your training set up and call you with your schedule,” I assured her as I stood from my desk.
She also stood and reached out to shake my hand. I looked down at it a few seconds before reaching across my desk and shaking gently. “Thank you, Jett. I appreciate the chance to work for you.” I only nodded in response. There was so much more I wanted to say but chose to force a grin instead.
I watched as she walked toward the door and placed her hand over the handle. She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “This is gonna work, right? With us? I mean, we’ll be able to work together without being uncomfortable, won’t we?”
A kick to the gut. “We sure will. Before today, you were just the girl who snuck out of my house without saying good-bye.” Her face fell just enough for me to notice. “Now you’re my new employee, and I don’t date my employees.”
She nodded and immediately turned back to face the door. After a few silent seconds she pulled it open and walked out.
I sank back down, feeling defeated and confused. What the fuck had I done that was so wrong? She’d wanted it to happen just as much as I had. So what if we had only met mere minutes before we went home together? Didn’t all relationships start out with not knowing the other person? Not that I expected a relationship, but hell, I didn’t expect her to blow me off, either.
I sat in silence, playing our night together over and over in my head, trying to figure out where I had gone wrong.
Chapter Seven
Quinn
The minute I reached my car, I quickly got inside. Resting back against the seat, I blew out a deep breath. A breath I felt I’d been holding forever. That was the most embarrassing and awkward situation I had ever found myself in.
The way his gaze smoldered and hardened only seconds apart gave me the chills. I could sense the anger in him the moment I said what we had done was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. It was amazing, truly amazing. Up until the moment I found my mother sprawled out on the front porch, bloody and oblivious to the world around her.
If I wasn’t in desperate need of the money, I would have refused the job and saved my sanity. But once again my mother had left me with no other choice. She can’t hold a job, so relying on her is a waste of time. I was in this alone, and if I didn’t want to be homeless, Jett’s was my way of making it. I just needed to figure out how I was going to see him every day and not want more of what we had that night.
***
“The guy?” Avery asked. “The one from the party. Mr. Night of Steamy Sex?”
I nodded as I stared ahead at the road. “Yep, that would be the one.”
“So, he’s your new boss? You do know what that means, right?” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “You’ll be able to get away with just about anything as long as you offer up a replay of your night together as an apology.”
“Not gonna happen, Avery, I already told him that night was a mistake,”
She gasped. “You what? Um, talk about a kick to the nuts. I’m surprised he even hired you after that.”
I regretted what I’d said the moment it left my lips, but it was too late to take it back.
After we went to the gym for a quick workout, I dropped her off and rushed home. I had the night off, and I was hoping to catch my mom before she went out. Maybe I could convince her to stay home for a change. I could really use a good night’s sleep, a night where I didn’t have to rush to clean her up off the floor.
When I walked in to find her standing over the stove making dinner, to say I was stunned would be an understatement.
“Hey, sweetie, I thought I would cook for a change,” she announced as I walked toward her. “Remember when we used to make a different soup every night, trying to come up with new recipes?” She scooped something from the pan and held the spoon out to me, her hand under it to catch the drip. “Try this one,” she said with a smile. The proud look on her face made my throat tighten with extreme happiness.
It had been years since she had made dinner. Domestic work wasn’t in her genes. She was not the kind of mom who made cookies. You know, the one slaving over the oven with her hair pinned up high. She was the mom who picked me up late from school or didn’t show at all. I had been taking care of myself for as long as I could remember. I was the one who made sure we had fresh food in the house or clean sheets on the bed. I made sure the door was locked at night and the windows were all closed.
I set aside my confusion for a moment and leaned forward to sip at the broth, closing my eyes as it ran down my throat. It was tangy, yet it was good. “Mm, not bad, Mom,” I assured her and she smiled big. She looked back at me with a proudness I had rarely gotten the chance to witness.
“Set the table and we’ll have some together.” She turned back to the stove and began scooping some of the tomato-colored broth into the bowl.
I placed the crackers and silverware on the table, waiting as she c
arried over the bowls. She carefully set one in front of me and one across the table, where she then took a seat.
I was still waiting for an explanation, something to shed some light on the unexpected change in her. We sat across from one another without speaking a word, only the sound of light sips of soup filling the air.
She looked so different, so unlike herself. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, flowing down over her left shoulder. She wore a pair of jeans and a tight red shirt. She was even wearing earrings and a necklace I know she had gotten from my grandfather years ago.
“Mom, what’s going on? I mean, don’t get me wrong, this change is something I think I’ve wished for, for years. I’m just confused. What brought it on?” I had to know. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe she had some epiphany. She always had a motive; I just couldn’t figure out what it could be this time.
Her smile fell and she placed her spoon on the table next to her bowl. “I just wanted to have a nice night. I know I’ve been a shitty mother, Quinn. I went to a meeting today and I’m trying here, okay?”
A meeting. It was always the same. She would go to one, maybe two, then she would fall again. She wouldn’t last. She was always so up-and-down. Usually something pushed her to try to change. A new guy in her life, an inheritance she received. Oh, then there was the time that a friend, a female I had never met, showed up. She was here for a few days, and when she left, my mother fell back to her old ways.
“Who is he?” I asked before I could stop myself. A guy was the only explanation.
Her eyes widened and she looked nervous. “What do you mean?”
“Did you meet a guy? Someone who made you want to change old habits. Something had to trigger this change, Mom. You can’t expect me to believe after all these years it’s because of me. I’ve been trying to get you to stop drinking and going out since, well, before I can even remember. It has never worked. So the only other option is that this has to do with some man.”
She stood from the table and carried her bowl to the sink. She braced herself on the counter, but she didn’t look at me. I could hear her deep breaths from across the room. Just barely above a whisper, what she said made my stomach drop.
“It’s your father.”
Those three words hit something deep within me. My father? “What do you mean, my father? You told me my father left before I was born. You said you didn’t really even know him. So how could my so-called father have anything to do with this change?”
I didn’t take my eyes off her. I watched as she walked across the room and reached into her purse. She pulled an envelope out and held on to it tightly, securing it to her chest. “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
“Yeah.” I laughed sarcastically. “I’m sensing that.” I was trying to control my anger. “Is that from him?” I pointed toward the letter she held so close.
“No, it’s from his sister,” she replied. “Do you remember the woman who visited me a couple years ago, the one who stayed for a few days?”
I nodded, my eyes boring into the letter.
“That woman was your aunt,” she whispered.
Anger shot through me. I could no longer control it. I balled my fists and stood up from the table, shoving my chair backward. “So she wasn’t just some random friend from your past. She’s my aunt. Why hide it?” She flinched as I raised my voice. “What the hell is with all the lies and secrets? He didn’t want me, fine, but why lie to me all these years?”
Tears ran down my mother’s cheeks, while she stood silently, accepting my anger, her gaze never leaving mine. “I have spent my entire life picking you up off the floor, or from some hole-in-the-wall bar. I’ve taken care of you all these years, putting my needs aside.” I stepped in front of her and ripped the letter from her hands. She grabbed at it, but I was able to pull it from the envelope.
“Please let me explain, Quinn. Don’t read it without allowing me to explain first.” Her words no longer meant anything.
The letter was from a Brandy Cooper of Tampa, Florida.
Abigail,
I know it has been some time since we last spoke, but I wanted to remind you of the upcoming date of June 1st.
I think it’s time you tell Quinn about Beau. He’ll come back there, you know he will. He has our father’s property still waiting for him. It will be the first place he goes.
It’s time she knows the truth. She deserves that…
Brandy
“Tell me,” I said as I spun around to face her. “You owe me an explanation, damn it. You owe me!” I was beyond angry. “Where the hell has he been?”
“In prison.” My heart sank instantly. “He gets out on the first.” My legs went weak at her words. June first was only three days away. My father, the man who had always been faceless and nameless, would be released from prison in a few days.
Prison.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why have I lived all this time without knowing the truth?”
“Quinny, he never knew about you.”
“What?” Betrayal and rage streamed through me, and I angrily swiped away the tears they caused. “So I haven’t been the only person you’ve been lying to all these years?”
I wadded the letter up and threw it down, walking toward the door. I yanked my purse and keys from the kitchen table, my hands trembling.
“Please, Quinn, don’t leave. Let me explain. Please.”
“You’ve had twenty-five years to explain all this to me. The time for explaining has expired, Mother. You missed your chance to make this right.” I left her standing in the living room, her sobs fading with each step I took.
Chapter Eight
Quinn
I lay in Avery’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. She was listening as I told her everything I had just discovered. I think she was as floored by the information as I was.
“The funny thing is, she never could stop drinking for me. She could never just pull back and be my mother. I needed her all those years, yet she continued to drink herself to near death half the time.” I paused and looked over at Avery. “But a man who has not been in her life for twenty-five years is what it took. How screwed up is that? She’s a selfish bitch, and I can’t let go of this anger I have for her.”
Over all the years I had been angry at my mom so often, but never like this. I deserved to know the truth about my father, but I couldn’t trust that my mother would be honest, not after everything she had already lied about.
Avery and I had taken the time to do a little research of our own, after I arrived at her house in tears. We started out searching for my aunt, Brandy Cooper. After an hour we had figured out her maiden name was Blanchard.
Searching through the online public records, we found him, my father. The picture on the screen was overwhelming. I had envisioned a horrible man with tattoos and angry eyes. The man we found was anything but that. He had brown hair that matched mine. He was clean-cut, and his eyes were so sad and lonely, almost as if he was lost.
Reading through his charges, I found that my father had been sentenced to prison for twenty-five years for manslaughter with a deadly weapon, a first-degree felony. The story stated he pled not guilty but was sentenced after an ongoing trial. The man he killed was a judge’s son. Apparently, they got into a fight outside a bar and no one stopped it. They were both above the legal limit from all the alcohol they’d consumed throughout the night.
The entire thing sat heavy on my heart as I looked into his empty eyes. I pushed back the guilt I’d begun to feel, knowing my mother was probably drunk by now. I tried not to think about what state she may be in, or the fact that she may need me.
Tonight I just needed to take a break and accept everything I now knew. I deserved the time to absorb that my life was about to change. Everything I believed was now in question. The chances of meeting my father in a few days were pretty high, yet I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
***
“Are you going home first?”
Avery asked from across her tiny kitchen. I stood with my back to her as I made coffee. “I have clothes you can wear, so it’s up to you.”
Today was my first day at Jett’s, and I had an hour before I needed to be there. I was only told to wear black pants, and the polo shirt would be provided once I got there. The thought of fighting with my mom before going in for my first day didn’t sound like anything I wanted to do. I was already beyond nervous, and I didn’t need anything making me feel worse.
“I think I’ll just get ready here, if that’s okay,” I said without turning around to face her.
“I already laid out my black pants and a shirt you can wear for now. Plus, my black flats are in the front closet, the comfortable ones. You know where everything else is.” She knew me well. She had the answer before I even asked the question.
Chapter Nine
Jett
I couldn’t look away. I had a million things I could be doing, yet I couldn’t force myself to do any of them.
I watched as Callie led her from table to table, shadowing her. I admired her sweet smile while she talked to the customers. She looked gorgeous, and I could already tell I didn’t need to worry about her handling the job. She flowed around the dining area like she had been working here for years.
I hadn’t heard the knock on my door or Kade when he entered. My eyes were still focused fully on Quinn’s every move. I sat lounging back on the leather couch in my office, one arm thrown over the back, the other rested on my thigh, completely entranced.
The sound of him clearing his throat startled me. He chuckled and shook his head. “Seriously, man, you need to grab a napkin to wipe your chin. I’m pretty sure I see a little drool.”