“It’s perfect, Nickayla.” His voice is a whisper, and my name is said with reverence, and I feel like I’m about to cry. “I love it. I love you.”
I exhale a long sigh of relief just as his hand comes up to cradle my head. His other hand rests on the small of my back, and my hands reach around him to try and hug him back. “I just love you. Happy anniversary, babe.”
He pulls away from our embrace, but he keeps his hand right where they are. He grabs onto the French braid at the back of my neck and pulls gently, angling my head just a nanosecond before his lips descend and the fire from earlier consumes us both. He drops to his knees, and I go with him, and suddenly he’s lying me on my back on the ground of this large, empty room, while Silence of Sound continues to play like nothing inappropriate is going on, not at all.
He straddles my hips and gives me a devilish grin and says, “Happy anniversary, pretty girl.”
Five.
The next day, I’ve only been home from school for twenty minutes, and I’m already dressed and ready for work. My hair’s in a ponytail, and I’m wearing the black slacks and white button down that they’ve required of all the servers. Now I’m waiting for Colin to get out of the shower so that I can say goodbye to him and head over to Le Chateau D’If.
I can still hear the water running, and if he doesn’t hurry, I’m going to have to leave without saying goodbye. We never leave each other without a goodbye kiss, and if I’m being honest with myself, I think I need a goodbye kiss from him today. I’m nervous as shit about this job. I feel like I’m going to be sick, honestly. These nerves are getting to me.
I get up off the couch and grab my purse. I put it on my shoulder, and then place a hand over my chest, where my birthday necklace rests. It sounds silly, but I haven’t taken it off since my birthday. I feel secure somehow, knowing that it’s there, knowing that I’m carrying a small piece of Colin with me everywhere.
All of the sudden, the sound of the shower water cuts off. My heart rate accelerates, because now my mind is picturing Colin all dripping wet, a white towel wrapped around his waist. Just as my subconscious conjures up the mental image, Colin comes out of the bathroom. He’s raking his fingers over his wet hair, and I watch as it curls up a little bit before he slicks it back. Just like I imagined, his sculpted chest is glistening under droplets of water, and even though I haven’t ever seen him completely naked in the year we’ve been together, I find myself wondering what exactly he’s working with beneath that towel.
He grins at me, and subconsciously, I bite my lower lip.
“Like what you see?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. I’m imposing a new rule. You’re not allowed to look like that before I have to leave for work. Five minutes isn’t nearly enough time to enjoy you.” I sashay over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a kiss. “Mmm.”
He laughs low in his throat, and he kisses me back. “Are you about ready to go?”
I want to say no, because even though I’m physically ready, mentally, I’m not so sure. Thus far, my experience lies in all things clerical, and helping my dad out with some filing and stuff at his company. Other than that, I know nothing about serving people. I know nothing about what it takes to work in an upscale restaurant, and that scares the living shit out of me.
“Not at all. My stomach hurts.”
Colin gives me an affectionate smile. “You’ll be fine. It’s just butterflies. Would you feel better if I took you?”
I can feel my eyes involuntarily widen. “Dressed like that?!” My voice comes out a more appalled than I mean for it to, but my question is a legitimate one. It should be a sin for him to even look like that.
“No. Unfortunately for the rest of the world’s female population, you’re the only one who gets to see me like this,” he says. “I’ll go put something on really quick, and you wait for me in the car, yeah? I’ll be right back.”
I laugh, partially because I found what he said comical, and partially out of relief, because I didn’t know how to ask him to take me to work to soothe the butterflies.
I place my cell phone in the outside pocket of my purse, and then grab the car keys. Outside, the pewter 2012 Chevy Malibu that Colin’s grandmother got him for his birthday sits in the driveway. The car he drove last year now belongs to Suze, and I’m happy for that, because I love the Malibu way better than I loved the other one. I get in the passenger seat and pop in my Ed Sheeran CD, skipping to one of my favorites off the Plus album: You Need Me, I Don’t Need You.
I put on my seat belt, waiting for Colin to join me outside. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to steady myself.
It’s strange, because I thought that after Support Day, where I told my family and friends about what had transpired between Kyle and me, I’d be fully okay. But I found out quickly how wrong I was. Every time I’m faced with a new situation and I don’t know how it’s going to affect me, I go into full-blown panic mode. I don’t have nightmares anymore, and the panic attacks have become few and far between. What’s more is that Kyle and I actually speak to each other in the hallways at school sometimes without feeling incredibly weird about it, and according to his little sister Henley, he hasn’t taken a drink since before Support Day.
So if all the pieces of my life are falling into place, why do I still feel uneasy about damn near everything?
“Okay, let’s get you to work, pretty girl,” Colin says, getting into the car and putting the key into the ignition. My expression must say more than my mouth is, because his brow wrinkles and he takes my hand. “Still not feeling well?”
I shake my head. “No, I feel worse, honestly. But the only way to feel better about this is for me to face it head-on.” Colin doesn’t look appeased, though. He looks skeptical about my reasoning, but that’s probably only because he hasn’t had to feel what I have. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
We hold hands for a long time, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. Even when I first applied, Colin didn’t really want me to get a job. He insisted that his part time work at Little Sicily, plus what he did online for his grandfather’s company brought in more than enough money to take care of the both of us.
“You know, you don’t have to work.”
“Yeah, I do,” I reply.
Colin sighs, and I can’t help but feel like maybe I’m emasculating him. I know he has this overwhelming need to save me, to love me, to take care of me. But he’s already done all that. What I need is to take care of myself.
“I want to take care of you, Nickayla. I want to provide everything you need. I don’t want you to want for anything,” he says, trying to plead his case.
“Yeah, and I want to take care of myself. It’s humiliating to watch you pay for me every time we go somewhere. It’s humiliating to know that our apartment isn’t really ourapartment. Your brother pays the rent and the bills so that we can live here. I need to work so that I have something that’s mine. Something that I know I worked hard for and earned. I want to pay my own cell phone bill. I want to pay for the cable and Internet.” I turn and look him directly in the eyes. “We made the decision to move in together, and we got everyone to support that decision by convincing them that we were mature enough mentally to make such an adult choice. I’m asking you—no, I’m telling you, because Ineed this—to let me be an adult. Let me take care of myself. I let you pamper and baby me before. Now, I need to do this so I know I’m capable of standing on my own two feet.”
Colin turns away from me, looking straight ahead of us. I’ve no way of knowing how he feels right now after all that I’ve told him. He’s silent for a long time, like he doesn’t really know what to say to me at this point.
“Colin, please. Let me do this.”
His head turns marginally and he blinks at me for a few seconds. He doesn’t say a word, just eyes me as he runs our conversation through his head.
Finally he nods, and the engine roars to life.
&nb
sp; I take a deep breath. Ready or not, here I come…
…
Jenny Archer, the manager of Le Chateau D’If smiles the second I come inside the restaurant. She waves me over to the bar, without saying my name. I take a deep breath and make my way over to where she stands with Sabrina, two other girls, and two guys who are around my age, maybe a bit older.
“Everyone, this is Nickayla Quinn. Nickayla, meet Sabrina, Tawny, Eva, Dixon, and my son, Eric. You’ll rotate sections once a week. Eric works the bar, Tawny does the cashier and maitre d’s duties. Eva, you’ll be assigned to the bar this week. Dixon, you take the front section. Nickayla, you take up the rear with Sabrina. Since you’re both fairly new here, I want you to get a feel of how things go before I saddle you with the front section. I won’t assign you to the front until you’re ready. About an hour before closing, we all head to the bar to clean up, and then we draw straws for which newbie gets the dishes that night.” Jenny turns to face me, patting me on the shoulder. “We’ve got about an hour before the dinner rush starts. Sabrina, will you show Nickayla to her locker? Oh, and get your name tags, aprons, and order pads from Tony when you get to the locker room.”
I nod, hoping that I’m okay to take all of this in today. Sabrina pushes off of the counter she was leaning against, and she walks over to me. Her long dark hair sways when she walks, and her smile never fades off of her face.
“Hey. Sabrina Matteo. Everyone calls me Bree.” She extends her hand to me. It’s when we shake hands that it appears as though she recognizes me from my anniversary festivities last night. “You had a private concert from Silence of Sound last night. Happy anniversary, by the way.”
I smile and give her a weak nod. “Thank you. My boyfriend’s a bit…superfluous when it comes to special occasions. It’s good to meet you.” I look around as we walk toward the locker room, and the panic sets in all over again. “How long have you been working here?”
Sabrina leads me to a locker and hands me a brand new lock still in its package. “Not long,” she says. “I only got hired a couple weeks ago, but one of the owner’s kids had to back out during the private opening, so they called me in to start last week. And your boyfriend specifically picked me out of the lineup to work your anniversary last night. When you see him again, thank him for me. I really needed that money.”
I’m a bit shocked to hear that Colin picked her specifically for our anniversary festivities last night. I figured that maybe he just got whoever was assigned to him. I can’t help wondering what Sabrina needed the money for, and how much Colin paid her for how wonderfully she served and waited on us.
A tall man with dark hair makes his way over to us, and he holds out a folded apron with an order pad, three pens, and a name tag to each of us. “I’m Tony. Here’re your badges and aprons. If you need anything, ask me or Jenny, and we’ll get to you as soon as possible. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, okay? It’s okay to mess up, as long as you learn from it.”
Suddenly, I’m feeling nervous all over again.
Four hours later, an hour before I’m supposed to be off of work, I’m realizing that I can work this rear section like nobody’s business. It’s mostly couples who want a more private ambiance and older people who sit in my and Bree’s section, so it’s not too hard to serve and wait on them. I can’t deny that I’m a bit nervous when I think about the day I have to work the front section, but I’ll deal with that when the day comes.
Bree comes out of the kitchen with a tray full of drinks, and she looks about as exhausted as I feel. I’m standing against the bar, knowing full well that once these last three tables evacuate, it’ll be time to clean up, close up, and go.
She walks back to the kitchen, and emerges with a large pitcher full of an Oreo milkshake. I raise an eyebrow in curiosity. She reaches into the pocket of her apron and her hand emerges holding two large milkshake straws.
I’m waiting for her to grab a couple of cups, but instead, she sticks both straws into the itcher and holds it out to me.
I shrug, willing to share pitcher of milkshake with anyone right about now. Sabrina sits across from me and smiles, seconds before she takes a long sip of the shake.
“So, how are you liking Harlow’s first ‘upscale’ restaurant so far?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest.
“I love it. Tonight was pretty quiet. I like it almost as much as my job last summer.”
Her perfectly arched eyebrows raise, and she stares at me like she’s waiting for me to elaborate.
“I had a paid internship last summer at North Carolina’s Vixen magazine. It was honestly the best experience of my life. I even got to work with Rebecca Whitney-Carlson, the creative director and the granddaughter of the magazine owner,” I explain. “My supervisor liked me so much, she offered me a full-time position at the magazine once I graduate.”
She gives me a wide smile.
“Me, I’ll be working here or at The Underground post-grad. I made a deal with my parents that I’d work through college since they’re paying for me to go to med school.”
I raise an eyebrow and am about to compliment her on her ambition when her eyes widen and she grins.
“Well, my night just got a thousand times better. Check out the eye candy that just walked through our doors!”
I swivel around on my bar stool and watch in slow motion as Brody stumbles through the restaurant.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter, scrambling to my feet and rushing over to him. I use all the strength in my tiny frame to try and guide him to the bar. “Brody, what the fuck?”
He just falls onto a bar stool and slams his fist atop the bar. In a belligerent tone, he shouts, “Two Coronas!”
I watch as he buries his head in his hands at the same time that Sabrina leaps off of her bar stool.
Eva glances nervously at me, and I shake my head. “He’s only 18. Plus, it looks like he’s had one too many already. He’s cut off.”
Eva laughs and suddenly I feel Brody’s hand clap over my shoulder.
“Please let me have one, Nic? Please? I--I’ll even take a frou frou girly drink.” He stops and bursts out laughing. “Frou frou. That’s a funny word. Frou frou.”Just as quickly as it came, the smile leaves his face, and I watch his expression twist and contort until it looks like he’s about to cry. “I miss Michele.”
Ah. Of course. I should have guessed that Michie was the cause of his drunken stupor tonight.
“I know, B. But remember, she’s with Hayden now? I hate to pour salt in your wounds, but...getting drunk isn’t really going to help either of you.”
He just stares at me and blinks rapidly for a while. “He has a stupid name. ‘Hayden.’ That’s stupid. I think ‘Brody’ is much better.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “Stupid name or not, that’s who Mich chose. And you promised you would respect her wishes,” I say, and I can’t believe I’m even in this position.
“I wanted her to wish for me.” His voice is so small, I barely hear the few words he’s just spoken.
But when I do hear them, I don’t hear the nonsensical ramblings of a drunken man. I hear the agonized words from the heart of a broken one.
“I know, B.” I can’t help but feel sad for him. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if Colin ever chose another girl over me. “I know. But someday, you’ll find someone who will wish for you.”
He huffs, raking his hand over his face. “I don’t want someone, Nickayla. I want Michele. She was the one.”
Within the next five seconds, three things happen seemingly in the blink of an eye.
One: Sabrina appears out of nowhere.
Two: She pushes me backward.
Three: She holds up a pitcher of water--which I’m sure she conjured out of thin air--and tosses it on Brody, a hand on her hip.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Her alabaster skin has turned a bit red and her face shakes as she yells at him. “All you’ve done since you walked in here is fucking whine! Shut up! God! You’re dr
unk off your ass and you want us to feel sorry for you? I don’t! Go home, take a shower, and sleep this shit off. If, when you’re sober, you still want to bitch and mope about your precious Michele, I’ll listen. Until then, I don’t want to fucking hear it!”
My hand covers my mouth as I glance nervously between Brody and Sabrina, who by now are staring daggers at each other. Brody and I are wearing identical masks of what I can only describe as a mixture of shock and horror.
Brody’s hair is dripping wet, and he stares at Sabrina unblinkingly for a long time.
“You’re a bitch,” he says matter-of-factly through gritted teeth.
Sabrina laughs. “And you’re pathetic. Great to meet you.”
I’m completely dumbfounded and I don’t know how Brody is going to react. I just hope I can get him to walk out of here and not come back until he’s sobered up.
I physically have to turn him around, and I push him toward the front door. “Come on, B.” Once outside, he staggers to the curb, where Colin should be pulling up in about ten minutes, and buries his face in his hands once more.
I don’t even consider taking him home, because I know his dad will freak the fuck out. So I know the only thing I can do is take him home with Colin and me. Either that or take him to Mom’s, where, up waking with a hangover, he’ll get lectured to death.
“Brody, stay here. I have to go make sure Sabrina isn’t ready to kill you right now.”
His head snaps up and he leans back so he’s staring at me. “Nic?”
With a sad smile on my face, I crouch down so that we’re eye level. “What’s up?”
He turns away from me and gazes off into the distance. “I don’t really think your coworker is a bitch. Actually, I think she’s pretty hot. She’s beautiful. Will you tell her that?”
Laughing, I shake my head. I stand up and pat him on the back.
“How about you sober up and tell her yourself?”
Almost Everything (Nickayla Quinn Trilogy Book 2) Page 5