by Amy Brent
“Mike,” David’s talking to the newest waiter of the restaurant. “These are the co-owners of Kennedy’s, they’re here to oversee the wait staff and cooks and find a few people to transfer to their second location.” He gestures to the twins and I lose my balance.
The silver platter falls to the floor, spraying food on the shoes of everyone nearby and shattering delicate plates into tiny shards. My hands shake and I attempt to pick the platter up but it slips out of my sweaty hands.
“Are you okay?” Charlie and Mike both kneel and help me, but I turn my face to hide the heat rising up my cheeks.
“Remy!” David screams behind me. I wipe my hands on my apron and stand on weak legs. “Jesus, go take a fifteen and get your head on straight!”
I take the opportunity to escape and run to the kitchens without even a glance towards the twins. Miguel, the head cook, asks if I’m okay and I nod and exit the back door. Tears well up in my eyes and I press the back of my palm to them, trying desperately not to cry.
They have every reason to fire me after being so rude to them last night, and now this? I sit on the ledge of a small garden connected to the building and drop my head in my hands. There aren’t many other places that will pay me as much as Kennedy’s does, and the tips themselves have practically been paying my rent.
The door besides me opens and closes, and I stiffen.
“You’re not cut are you?” A kind voice asks, one similar to last night.
“Who gives a shit? Let’s just get her apron and get back to the hotel.” The other voice says. I peek through my arms to find the twins facing me. Emmet’s frowning at his twin, dressed in a well fitting gray suit. Jake scowls in my direction, his foot tapping as he discusses how much food I must have wasted. His gray suit is looser than Emmet’s, with sleeves rolled up to show off muscled arms with tattoos spiraling onto his biceps. His hair is slicked back on the top with shaved sides, and they both aren’t sporting the white stripe anymore.
“Damn it, Jake, she could have hurt herself.” Emmet says and approaches me. “Are you alright?”
“All you ever do is ask her if she’s okay, and she’s clearly never going to respond to you. This is a waste of time.” Jake complains.
“I’m fine.” I say to Emmet. I can’t lose this job, I just can’t, and if I have to suck up to them then so be it. “And I’m so sorry about last night and just now. That’s not at all reflective on my work ethics and if, if you could give me another chance I promise I can prove it.” I’m not proud of it, but I widen my eyes and batter my eyelashes at the nicer twin. Jake must notice because he snickers and mutters something rude beneath his breath.
“I’m not partial to considering it.” Emmet smiles and takes a seat next to me, crinkling his expensive business suit in the process. “But I’m not the one you need to convince.” He whispers to me and gestures to Jake.
“Please, Mr. Kennedy.” I beg him. “I need this job, and I’m good at it. You can ask anyone in there, I’m the best front of house, and the customers love me. If you’ve ever worked for anything in your life, you’ll understand how important this is.”
He stares at me until I begin to blush under such a heavy gaze. My eyes flicker to his forearms and how his shirt hugs his muscles, and then I’m noticing the sharp angle of his jaw and how thick his eyelashes are. I’m a big girl myself, but he’s wide and long and it doesn’t take long before I’m fantasizing about those arms as they hold me up against a wall and his taut body pressing against mine.
“Fine.” He snaps me out of my daydream. Why on earth did that image cross my mind? “I’ll consider it. Come to the suite tomorrow and we’ll look over your employment. No promises though.” Emmet stands and whispers to Jake, who sighs in frustration. “Well I’m going back. All this bullshit is wearing me out.” He leaves Emmet and I alone as he mutters his regret for ever coming back to this damned city.
“He’s an angry guy.” Emmet offers. “I’m much more agreeable.”
“So you say.” I mutter, still feeling flustered. “I really am sorry about last night.”
“You’re sorry you didn’t know who we were at the time.” He corrects me and I blush. “It’s okay, it seemed like you had a lot to deal with. Perverts and all.”
I laugh, pressing my hands against my cheeks to stop blushing. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m sure.” He’s staring into my eyes, and I find myself comparing them to his brothers. They’re similar, but there’s something gentle about Emmet. Something that makes my heart beat faster and skin sweat.
“Fifteen minutes up.” I break eye contact and stand awkwardly, cursing myself for giving an entitled and rich man any more attention than required. Emmet hands me a small business card with the name of their hotel and suite number.
“Nine am tomorrow. I’ll make sure you’re not missed at the restaurant.” He says and calls his driver. I rush inside the restaurant before he leaves and take back my tables from Mike.
I have less than twenty four hours to come up with a convincing argument to keep my job. How am I expected to beg in front of two insufferably attractive brothers who have probably never had to ask for anything in their life? Especially when just being near them is enough to make my heart race. I try to focus on my tables for the rest of the day, but every now and then I can’t stop from blushing at the thought of seeing Emmet and Jake again. Even if they make me unreasonably angry at the same time.
Chapter 97
Before I realize it my shift is over, and I spend the last half hour cleaning my table. Camila helps me as she finishes hers, and we go over the events of the day.
“Oh, I wish I was there!” She says after I fill her in on the twin fiasco. “Apparently they ran after you and everything. I wish I had sexy twins following me everywhere I go.” She flips her long dark bangs and shakes her head. “Dios mio.”
“Trust me, it’s not that glamorous when you’re covered in food.” We finish up and clock out at the same time. “But I think Emmet, the nice one, might give me another chance. His asshole brother is my main problem.”
“I wish he was my problem. I know a few different ways to solve a guy like that.” She teases.
“You’re filthy. It’s not like that.” She teases me throughout our subway ride, asking which brother is nicer on the eyes and which one has the cutest ass. Thankfully, her stop comes quickly and we say goodnight.
I’m exhausted, but I don’t dare get ready for sleep yet. I pull out an old, dusty laptop and look up the Kennedy brothers, clicking on their bio page for my first stop.
Emmet’s accomplishments fill up the majority of the page, from prom king in high school to valedictorian to being the youngest restaurant owner in the United States. Pictures of him and his mother are scattered through the article. She’s petite with wispy blonde hair, but her smile is almost as wide as her face as she stares at her son with pride. I scroll through an album of various European trips. The pictures turn into Emmet in fancy business suits at state dinners with mayors and congressman, and only now am I realizing just how rich and entitled he really is.
After a while I notice I haven’t seen anything on Jake, and after looking him up individually I realize why. Article after article is nothing but drug and theft charges, college drop out transcripts, and even a picture of a text from his mom calling him a failure. His pictures are either mug shots or him flipping off the camera, and I have to scroll far to even find one of him smiling, and it looks like he was in high school.
I find an article dated to over a year ago about the Kennedy brothers reuniting. A few paragraphs explain that they were going no contact for several years after high school until Emmet extended an offer to Jake for a business proposal. I read several theories that their mother forced Jake to accept the offer or else risk losing all of his inheritance. But then there are a few pieces about Jake spending every waking moment invested in the restaurant. From creating the vision of the restaurant to handpicking the chef
s and menus and even spending over fifteen hours a day in the kitchen helping the workers with whatever they need.
For the first time I feel drawn towards Jake. My own father cut me off financially after failing to get into law school, no matter how ridiculous the idea was and how many times I told him it wasn’t in the cards for me.
I shut my laptop off and get ready for bed, prepping my speech until I drift into an uneasy sleep. I dream about the twins so much that when I wake I’m even more exhausted than I was before my eyes closed.
Homework takes up the majority of my morning, until it’s an hour till our meeting time and I change into a pencil skirt and blouse that makes my hips even wider than usual and breasts pop. I never even interviewed for my job at Kennedy’s, Camila had vouched for me, and so I start to sweat and repeat my speech aloud over and over again. I plan on bringing up my strengths, and turn my weaknesses into a pro for the restaurant. A cab waits for me outside, and I dust on some shine resistant powder before running to meet it.
The hotel is right in the middle of downtown, at the top of one of the highest skyscrapers. I pay the cab and stand at the front of the building, surprised when a doorman appears and opens the door for me.
“I’m here for a meeting.” I hand him the business card.
“Elevator to your left, forty-eighth floor. The floor host will show you to the room.” The doorman instructs and leads me to the elevator. The inside of the hotel is immaculate, with gold trimming against black marbled walls. Everyone that walks in or out is dressed in outfits that I could only imagine touching, and it’s obvious as they stare at my thrift shop shoes and goodwill clothes with distaste.
My fear of heights kicks in as the elevator soars to the forty-eighth floor. I fix my hair in the mirrors of the elevator, bunching the corkscrews at the bottom to add volume at the top. My dark skin has a natural blush to it, no doubt because of my anxiety, and I bite my lips. My suit makes me look more plump and accentuates my curves, and I hope the distraction is enough to convince the brothers to keep my job.
A man greets me as soon as the elevator doors open, and before I can even show him the business card he offers me his arm.
“Miss Lewis, correct? The Kennedy’s are expecting you.”
“Let me guess, not many colored women go up and down these floors?” I try to joke but the floor host frowns in confusion.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you could mean.” He purses his lips and leads me to the very last door in the hallway. It opens into a parlor and he suggests to wait here. “The Kennedys should be out momentarily to receive you.” He says and closes the door behind him.
I clutch my purse awkwardly and sit on a stiff couch that rests against the wall on the left of the door. A banquet table is in the middle of the room with breakfast pastries, and another table sits against the opposite wall with a toaster oven and a fridge. I consider getting a small plate with maybe a bagel and cream cheese, but a commotion nearby glues me to my seat.
“I don’t give a shit what you have to say to me.” I can barely make out the muffled words. A door open and closes, and I realize it’s Jake on the phone just around the corner of the parlor. “He didn’t do any of the work behind the scenes. You gave him the credit so of course they’re only going to praise him. The only reason that restaurant is even making any money is because all the shit I put into it.”
I try coughing to let him know I’m in the same room, but he yells over it.
“Well I’ll just be a fuck up for the rest of my life then!” He curses as he hangs up the phone, and our eyes lock when he storms into view.
My prepared speech is long forgotten as he glares at me with pure animosity.
“Lamy.” He sneers. “Emmet’s running late, but he did say it was ultimately up to me so let’s just get this over with.”
“Remy, actually.” I manage to find my voice and a bit of attitude along with it. “And I didn’t hear anything important, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I don’t worry about shit. You’re here to beg for your job, so let’s hear it.” He leans against the breakfast table and impatiently taps his foot. I realize the last thing I want to do is beg at the feet of a man like him.
“I planned on it, you know. But after reading about you and hearing that conversation, I don’t think I’m going to beg to someone who’s not that far above me.” I stand and rest a hand on my hip.
“Excuse me?” Jake raises his eyebrows.
“You heard me, you big bully. You may have had success and money thrown at your feet, but deep down you still feel like a failure. You still feel like you have something to prove to everyone to get out of that shadow of your brother that you’re stuck in.” My mouth keeps moving without taking the time to even reflect on what I’m saying. “I’ve worked my ass off to prove that I’m not some spoiled daddy’s girl. I work eighty hour weeks while still going to school so I can prove that I rely on no one but myself. I haven’t taken a vacation in years, I gave up my dream of traveling the world and after years of sacrifice all I have to show for it is two years worth of college credits with no student loans and this job that I know like the back of my hand. So, sweetie, if you’re willing to fire me because I don’t grovel at your feet, then fine. I guess we both are just going to spend the rest of our lives proving ourselves to those who don’t believe in us.”
“You think you know me?” His cheeks are red and his eyes twitch with a snarl on his lips. I’ve struck a nerve. “You can’t spend five minutes on google and then claim you know my life.”
“But I can spend five minutes and learn that you were given a second chance after screwing up the first. I know you have a mother that doesn’t believe in you, despite the fact that you have poured every ounce of your soul into your restaurant. I know you recognize a hard worker because you are one yourself, and as difficult as it is to admit this, I know that I admire that part of you a lot more than the part of you that acts like an ass every time someone looks at you the wrong way.”
Jake stares at me with lowered eyes, his hands gripping the edge of the table behind him. “I can appreciate being put in my place if it’s by someone who knows hers.” He finally says.
It’s not until now that I realize I just fucked up my chances of keeping my job. But I hold my ground as Jake walks towards me. I grow anxious as he gets closer, until he takes a seat on the couch and pats the space next to him. Hesitantly, I sit on the very edge.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever credited me for anything.” He admits. “It’s always Emmet this or Emmet that. The golden boy.” He glances at me. “Growing up some family members even called me Emmet’s brother, like they weren’t related to me. I can’t imagine a better way to set a child up for failure.”
“But you didn’t fail.” I say and scoot closer. Our knees brush, reminding me of the dirty scene in my head, and I back away quickly. “Kennedy’s is one of the top rating restaurants in the city. And let’s be real, you’re living in a hotel like this.” I gesture at the room. “You didn’t fail at all.”
He smirks and gives me a funny look. “So you said you gave up your dream to travel. Where did you want to go?”
I dive in and tell him about my Paris dreams, of eating a scone and baguette on a cute little street with flowers in my hair and a French cigarette between my fingers. “Not that I would actually smoke it. I just feel like it completes the vision.” We laugh, and I find myself opening up to him about my father cutting me off financially. “He calls maybe once a month, I think, to make sure I’m still alive. But I’ll never forget what he said the last time I saw in person. Said I ain’t nothing but a black hoe statistic.”
“Fuck the type of man who could say that to his daughter.” Jake curses. “I’d like to beat the shit out of him.”
He moves his arm to rest besides me on the couch, and without realizing what I’m doing my hand reaches out to trace a thick, black tattoo that swirls from his hand to his biceps. He draws in a
breath and I pull back, but a strong hand grabs mine and puts it back on his arm where I can feel his muscles bulge beneath the skin. I squirm against the couch as his fingers close around my wrist.
Just a few hours ago I was cursing this particular Kennedy brother, but now all I want to do is find out how the rest of his skin would feel beneath my touch. His clear blue eyes meet mine, and I realize he is going to be a lot more complicated than I initially expected.
Chapter 98
Jake Kennedy’s right arm circles around my shoulders, his fingertips tracing the top of my blouse. It makes me shiver, but I don’t want to move.
“Remy,” He says, and I want to hear my name on his lips again. Jake locks eyes with me and opens his mouth as another door slams shut. We both jump to our feet while putting distance between us as Emmet casually strolls in. He notices us and takes a double take before smiling pleasantly.
“I was worried I’d find the two of you in a wrestling match. This is unexpected.” He hands a folder to Jake who opens it. “I went ahead and got a few character testimonies from Miss Lewis’ coworkers, and a record of her employment. She’s never called off in over a year, and comes in about eighty percent of the time that someone else calls in sick.”
Jake nods, his eyes glancing over at me.
“Thank you.” I turn to Emmet. His eyes are even lighter with the soft gray sweater he wears, and dark slacks compliment his shiny business shoes. Even with the thick fabric the muscles on his arms are still visible and I force myself to look at his face. Which also isn’t a hard thing to do. “I didn’t even think to bring a copy of that.”
“I wanted a convincing argument. Shall we take a seat?” He gestures to the couches as Jake hands him back the folder and shakes his head.
“She keeps her job.” He says.
“And what we talked about earlier?” Emmet raises his eyebrows.