by Cora Brent
I thought about calling a cab. Or Uber. But no, that didn’t fit in with the script in my head. As the seconds ticked by, I lost my nerve anyway. I ended up devouring the rest of Dominic’s pizza, chasing it with the last beer in my fridge, and returning to the couch to watch a Star Wars movie marathon. Somewhere in the middle of The Empire Strikes Back, I nodded off and dreamed of pizza. And New York. And fire.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DOMINIC
Melanie lingered on my mind, although I didn’t so much as utter her name as I worked side by side with my brother deep into the night. Gio never came right out and said he was angry or disappointed. He didn’t shove me in the chest and demand answers as to why I couldn’t keep my zipper closed when it counted. He didn’t bring up sordid tales from the past and question my intentions. He just worked quietly and occasionally said something like, “Hey, Dom, hand me those towels over there, would ya?” or “Did you notice that the temperature in the big freezer was five degrees off today?”
I kind of wished he would call me out. Then I could explain to him that I wasn’t an arrogant kid anymore, and that Melanie really wasn’t just a good time to me. I thought about her in ways I wasn’t used to thinking about women.
But Gio didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t hand out condemnations, so I figured he didn’t want to talk about anything heavy. We had enough going on, so the fewer distractions that got in the way, the better.
By the time I staggered home and dropped into bed for a few hours, I felt like a guilty pile of shit. It could have been worse. If I’d had my way at the time, Gio wouldn’t have shown up, and Melanie and I would have fucked each other silly all over the restaurant.
I thought I was done being the selfish kid who had bailed on his own grandfather once upon a time and then committed a cruel act of revenge against a man I blamed for the family’s downfall. It turned out I wasn’t quite done being selfish after all.
Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix this situation, though. The best thing for Melanie, and for the family and Esposito’s, would be just to take a few steps back, apologize for my lack of boundaries, and make it a priority to maintain a professional work environment from now on.
And if my heart took a small beating every time Melanie Cruz flashed a smile my way, then that would have to be all right. My heart could take the abuse. I wouldn’t be good for her anyway. There was too much baggage strapped to my back, and it wasn’t going anywhere. Melanie deserved a knight in shining armor, not a bad-tempered workaholic with a shitty relationship history and a head full of family guilt.
She’d understand that. Maybe.
But as I mulled over my good intentions in my own bed with the lights off and my pants unzipped, my thoughts started going in another direction.
“Dom, don’t stop.”
Holy shit, that little kitchen episode had been hot. My hand automatically wandered south as I replayed the memory of finally getting my hands all over Melanie’s sexy body. I wasn’t ever going to forget a single detail. She’d been so into it, we practically started a four-alarm fire from the friction. If I had to guess, I’d say she wasn’t used to being touched these days.
Even though I’d only slept about six hours in the last three days, my dick was suddenly wide awake. The memory of her dissolving in my hands as she moaned and whispered my name was the best porn in the fucking world. I knew I wouldn’t get a minute of sleep until I did something about this pressure, so I kicked my pants aside and headed for the shower to take care of business in a cloud of steam.
And so what if I was picturing Melanie’s lips and Melanie’s body the whole time I jerked off? It wasn’t the first time I’d come in my hand with her face in my head, but it wasn’t like I was going to broadcast it when I got to work tomorrow. I sure wasn’t going to tell her she was the best imaginary fuck I’d ever had. She’d never know that I pretended she was right there in my shower, naked, wet, and kneeling as I used her mouth in a variety of indecent ways.
Still, a few minutes later as I panted against the smooth white tile of the shower stall, I felt guilty again. Erotic feelings aside, I really liked Melanie. I respected her as an employee and genuinely appreciated the job she did.
That was why I decided that when I saw her I intended to push all the other messy thoughts out of the way, profusely apologize for my lack of boundaries, and hope like hell that she didn’t quit.
By the time I finally fell asleep, it was into a brief, fitful rest. I woke up feeling groggy and irritable. I had two texts from Gio, who was already down at Espo 2, so I immediately called him back. The walk-in freezer needed a minor replacement part, but it was at a warehouse forty miles away. It was an inconvenient problem the day before the grand opening, but I told Gio I’d drive out to get it. I showered quickly and then ran out the door.
The painfully bright sun didn’t suit my mood. That was the blessing and the curse of Phoenix, though; a city that boasted over three hundred days a year of bold, brilliant sunshine. There was nothing you could do about it except stick a pair of dark sunglasses on your face and stay in the shade. I missed the variable seasons of New York, especially this time of year. Here in the desert, the brief autumn season handed out more comfortable temperatures but little else, no changing leaves or stormy skies or any cold bite to the night air.
As I sped along the city freeway that was distantly framed by blunt, brown mountains, I thought about the road trips we used to take when I was a kid. Grandpa Leo would drive us all up to the Catskills every October so we could stare at the dazzling leaves and pick a few pumpkins from local patches. In those early memories, before he became a surly teen and then a dipshit adult, my older cousin, Steven, would even come along with us. We’d sing along to the radio in the old Cadillac and enjoy a day away from the city as Donna laughingly scolded her husband for driving too slowly. Those were happy trips and happy days, before loss and ruin and bitterness. Whenever the calendar turned to October, I always thought of the Catskill Mountains, of my grandparents, and my brother. I even thought of Steven.
On the way back from the west side, the freeway was clogged due to an overturned tractor trailer, so I didn’t make it back to Espo 2 until around noon. I wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of checking out the problematic freezer, but I ended up running my hand along the length of the stainless-steel counter where the night before I’d taken a small taste of something I couldn’t have. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Honestly, I didn’t know what it would take for me to stop thinking about Melanie. I wanted her. More than that, I wanted to be with her. But I couldn’t do that, not now. I didn’t even know if I was capable of being the guy who would be worthy of Melanie.
After whispering a curse under my breath, I turned away.
“Hey, Gio!”
Two seconds later my brother poked his head through the open window between the display counter and the kitchen.
“Is Melanie still planning on being at Espo 1 this evening?” I asked.
Gio’s expression didn’t change when he answered, “As far as I know,” in a curt way and then asked if we could go over the monthly financials Melanie had emailed him yesterday.
“A lot going out,” I said, squinting at the numbers on the laptop.
“Yup,” Gio agreed with a troubled expression. “Far more than what’s coming in.”
I understood why he was nervous. We both had a lot invested in the success of Espo 2, but it was more important to Gio because he had a family now. This needed to work for him, and for Tara and Leah. I didn’t take that responsibility lightly. I’d work until I keeled over if that was what it took to give them the kind of security that came from success.
“We’ve been here before, man,” I reminded him. “Before we started this project we figured it would be tight in the beginning. We’ll make it happen, though.”
“I know.” Gio sighed and closed the computer. “But for some reason I keep thinking it was easier the first time.”
“Trust me, it wasn�
��t.”
Gio nodded and stood up. “You’re right.” A slow smile spread across his face as he gazed across the dining room. “Damn, look at all this. Reminds me of the old place. You’ve really done it, big brother.”
I stood beside him and elbowed his ribs. “We’ve done it.”
“Hopefully the public shares our enthusiasm.”
“They will,” I said with confidence. Then a wave of fatigue overcame me, and I stifled a yawn.
Gio was looking at me with concern. “Dom, when was the last time you got a complete night’s sleep?”
“Who knows.” I waved him off as I yawned again.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” he scolded. “Nothing healthy comes from exhaustion. Can’t have you nearly slicing your own hand off again.”
I opened my hand and peered down at my healing wound. There would be a scar, but it didn’t matter. I closed my fist and smiled, thinking of how I got those stitches, thinking of Melanie chasing around after me, dispensing ridiculous medical advice.
“So are you planning on coming by Espo 1 today?” Gio asked suddenly. Sometimes I wondered if the guy was psychic. I’d just been thinking about heading over to the Tempe restaurant.
“I might,” I said casually. “I’d like to go check on the staff, see if anyone has questions about tomorrow.”
Gio made a humph-like noise, but he didn’t say what he was thinking.
“You care if I go?” I asked. It was a loaded question. He might have already figured out that I was going over there to clear the air with Melanie.
“You can go,” he said, and faced me. We were the same height so it was easy for him to look me in the eye. “In fact you should go.”
Gio was sending a message: Fix it. He reminded me of Grandpa Leo the way he could get his point across with minimal words and gestures.
As for Melanie, I had no idea what was going through her mind. I hoped to god that she’d stay, that she wasn’t feeling embarrassed or offended. Making this right would mean pretending she wasn’t on my mind constantly. But if that’s what it took, then so be it. That option was better than disappointing her down the road and creating a rift with Gio.
“All right, I’ll go.” I felt around in my pockets for my keys.
“Hey, Dom,” Gio said, and his voice was warmer now. “You make sure to get a good night’s sleep tonight, okay? Brother’s orders.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do just that. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Promise?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Gio. I promise.”
As I left I felt a grim kind of determination. No matter how much I wanted Melanie, this was the time to put family and responsibility first. Gio and I had worked so long and so hard, and I liked to think that somehow our grandfather was watching over us with pride. Plus the last thing I wanted was to wind up hurting Melanie and adding that to my list of painful regrets. I had enough of those already.
In the long run forgetting about what happened last night was best for everyone, including her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MELANIE
I woke up to the sight of my cats peering down at me with feline disapproval. There was something especially sobering about being regarded with open disdain by one’s pets.
“I’m up,” I growled, and shooed them away as I hauled myself into a sitting position. My head was throbbing, and my mouth tasted like dirty hay. Then I glimpsed the turquoise wall clock hanging over the TV and shrieked. It was after one p.m.
Dominic had ordered me to take the morning off, and I wasn’t supposed to be over at Espo 1 for a few hours, but sleeping so late made me feel out of sorts.
I drank three cups of coffee and took my time in the shower. By the time I needed to leave, I still had no idea what I’d say when I saw Dominic. All of yesterday’s bravado had left me, and a tribe of butterflies had pitched their tents in my stomach. On the drive to work, I listened to a motivational podcast that told me to imagine my worries were soap bubbles. The speaker sounded like he’d just woken up from a nap, and he said to imagine the bubbles of worry popping one by one. It didn’t help.
Luckily (or not) I didn’t have to worry right away about how to deal with the sexy Mr. Esposito because he was nowhere in sight when I walked into Espo 1. Really, I shouldn’t have let myself get all bent out of shape over seeing him. He should be the one to break the ice here. He was in charge. He was the boss. I was just, just . . .
Crazy about him.
Business was brisk as the dinner hour approached. There was more staff than usual working because tonight was also the last chance to get some training time in. A number of people asked if the new downtown restaurant was still opening tomorrow. When they said they were glad they wouldn’t need to drive all the way to the East Valley for great pizza anymore, I handed out coupons for a free appetizer.
I was so busy I didn’t notice when Dominic showed up. But the next time I peeked into the kitchen, there he was, muscles straining as he rolled out dough with a look of intense concentration. It was ridiculously hot. I felt my heart speed up and had trouble tearing my eyes away. I felt slightly disgusted with myself. What kind of a person develops a sexual fetish for pizza preparation? But then, maybe it wasn’t the weirdest thing in the world. In high school I’d briefly dated a guy who admitted he’d found his dad’s erotic photo collection. It included a large number of scenes where topless women in 1950s skirts stood in front of plastic Christmas trees. To each his own, I guess.
And anyway, it wasn’t so much the kneading of the dough that got me all hot and bothered. It was the man doing it. Dominic could have been painting a house or running a blowtorch, and I would still have gotten plenty excited.
Two seconds later one of the new servers, a college girl named Odette, dropped a tray of drinks in spectacular fashion. Since she started sobbing as she apologized again and again, I placed a comforting hand on her arm and guided her toward the ladies’ room to calm down. Aimee started helping me clean up the mess of glass and sticky soda, but I sent her over to take care of Odette’s table.
“What happened?” Dominic demanded, and I gasped at the sound of his voice.
I’d spent a lot of time thinking about his voice, the way it had become all low and throaty when he stood behind me and pressed himself close. Now here he was, standing behind me once more, although things were different since I was kneeling on the floor in the middle of a mess as the restaurant crowd buzzed around me. I looked up and found his rugged square-jawed face peering down at me with mild curiosity. I remembered the feel of his hot breath against my neck.
“Harder.”
“It’s nothing,” I blurted, mopping up with a pile of napkins. “Just some spilled drinks.”
Dominic hunkered down on the ground beside me. He swept the ice cubes into a dustpan. “I see that,” he said. “But I thought I heard somebody carrying on like their hair had caught fire.”
“Odette was just a little flustered, so I sent her on break to calm down.”
Dominic nodded and wordlessly took the sopping napkins out of my hand. “I’ll take care of this,” he said without looking at me.
“Great. What should I do then?” I asked irritably.
He checked his watch. “You can take off if you want to. I’ve got things covered here, and tomorrow’s the grand opening.”
“Yeah, I know tomorrow’s the grand opening,” I said, irritably brushing my hands off on my skirt. I was pissed. I couldn’t help it. Was he really going to play it like this? I hoped he could feel the force of my steely glare, but he just kept cleaning the stupid floor like it was the most important thing he had going on.
“Fine,” I said, rather loudly. A trio of old ladies at a nearby table stopped talking and stared at me over the rims of their wineglasses. “I’m going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I marched over to the break room long enough to retrieve my purse, paused in the kitchen to say good night to the staff
, and kept my head down on the way out.
Then I got into my car and hit the steering wheel with both fists. It hurt. I flexed my hands, wincing and muttering a few curses because it was all my own damn fault that my pride was wounded and my hands were stinging.
When the passenger door suddenly opened, I almost screamed and bolted from the car. Just the other day I’d read an article about a woman who’d almost been kidnapped right in her own car as she sat outside a drugstore and paused to answer a text before starting the engine.
“Melanie,” Dominic said, and I relaxed. A little. Actually I still wanted to scream, but now I wanted to scream for a different reason. He ducked into the car and settled in the passenger seat.
“Melanie?” he said again when I just stared at him without moving. He was different than he’d been moments ago inside the restaurant. The detached tone was gone from his voice, and he raked a hand through his hair as I watched. He seemed agitated, unhappy.
“What do you want?” I asked coldly.
Dominic took a deep breath. “I want to apologize,” he said.
I faced straight ahead. If any of the staff walked out here right now, they’d probably wonder what the hell was going on.
“So apologize,” I said through clenched teeth.
He didn’t say anything right away. I could feel him watching me. “I was trying to figure out how to get a moment to talk to you in there. My conduct last night was inexcusable. I won’t pretend otherwise. I’m so sorry—the last thing I wanted to do was take advantage of you. If you’re uncomfortable working with me, I’ll do anything in my power to make things better.”
So that was how this was going to be. Dominic was going to act like last night had been a momentary lapse in judgment and nothing more.
I tried to laugh, but it came out like a cough. “You think I’m uncomfortable around you?”
He hesitated before answering and rested his strong hands on the dashboard. I stared at his hands, remembering how good they’d felt. He briefly drummed his fingers and then sighed. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t blame you if you were. What happened between us was completely my fault, Melanie, and I’m more sorry than I can say.” He looked me right in the eye. “I promise I will never touch you at work again. You have my word.”