The Pandora Affair

by Tiffany Toto

  Hot coffee tidal wave was more like it.

  “A little spilled coffee? It was more like a hot coffee waterfall and for your information I did not….” He rotated himself to face her in the booth. “It was an accident you know.” “Perhaps if you tried working a hard day in your life instead of roaming around in a brand new SUV…loafing around being absolutely useless…” It took him about two seconds to comprehend what she’d said. “How exactly do you know what I drive?” His interest perked from medium to high. She looked at him as though he asked the question in a foreign language. His intent gaze almost demanding an answer, one she was not willing to give. Her thought process took a slight detour through his charmingly rugged good looks, his strong jaw clenched. The stranger’s handsome face and endless smile made her light on her feet. “That makes no never mind…don’t try to change the subject!” she retorted while trying to remember what she was saying before his good looks rudely invaded her thoughts. He continued to sit there in good spirits; one groomed eyebrow elevated slightly waiting for her to finish. “Guys like you make me nauseous. You’re probably some rich, snot nosed kid running daddy’s company like it was your own personal amusement park. I feel sorry for anyone who works with you because you’re probably a major pain in the ass!” She rambled off trying to recall when someone had pissed her off this much before. “Is that so?” The man was completely entertained by her forwardness, he just let her talk. “And another thing, I am a very good waitress, I was just having a bad day. I will get your iced tea with no lemon only because I can’t stand being this close to you!”

  Sliding from the booth she tried to get up. He placed his long leg on the other side of the booth’s seat preventing her from leaving. She furiously took hold of his strong calf and tried pushing it to the floor. The strength in his leg alone almost overpowered all the might she had. She shot a glare in his direction. “What’s the magic word?” She knew he was just plain mocking her now; he took nothing she said seriously. Why would he? He probably didn’t have an inch of human compassion within his soul, if he even had a soul. With all her force she shoved his leg out of her way.

  He watched her from the corner booth; he took careful notice of his tea preparation. The glass was half ice, half lemon topped off with tea. He was well aware how much frustration he had caused her, more than once she had glared at him. She was probably cursing him under her breath many times over. He waited impatiently for her to come back to his table, he was captivated by her aggression towards him, and his attraction for her was pressing. No woman had ever talked to him like that, especially a woman so remarkably beautiful. He presumed she was about 5’7. She had long, straight, dark chestnut brown hair. Her eyes were the greenest of all emeralds, with unbelievably long lashes that complimented her full pouty lips. A perfectly formed beauty mark below her right eye accentuated her cheekbones and her skin was like creamy, golden brown buttermilk. He figured she supported a medium frame, her body rendered him speechless. Her curves taunted him, the thoughts of wearing her ass as a hat navigated through his mind more than once in the last couple minutes. He leaned his head to the side, trying to determine if her long legs would wrap around him perfectly or not. He would have to try to do a test run on that one.

  He came back to reality as she approached the table. Samantha set his iced tea down right in front of him, making sure some spilled over “There you go, iced tea EXTRA lemon.” She hoisted a brow waiting for him to say something. “I must be getting the special treatment today…does it cost extra to get my beverage in a glass, instead of my lap?” He made himself more comfortable by propping his feet on the other side of the booth. “You’re special all right…do you want to order or shall I start charging you rent for uselessly sitting in the booth?” She pushed his big feet off the seat of the booth.

  “Well…I was just going to have some tea. But since you’re such a nice, friendly server, and what you do is serve…I will have the double bacon cheeseburger and make sure there are no onions, no mayo, I would like to have Swiss cheese instead of American and sautéed mushrooms, hold the pickles, with a lightly toasted sourdough bun…and seasoned fries.” She knew in the blink of an eye he was just being difficult, trying to catch her off guard. He waited for her to turn around and walk away. “And waitress!” She stopped, taking in a deep, frazzled breath, and infuriatingly she turned to face him. “Hold the spit…” She huffed off as he smiled with gratification.

  In the server area she seemed more than aggravated. What nerve he had, assuming she would stoop so low. Putting his order up, she leaned against the counter, letting the cook know she needed the burger to be perfect and quick. She didn’t need him complaining about her and the food. He took a look at the ticket and huffed out a laugh. Several minutes later the plate was pushed out for her to take. She wrote up a bill so she would be done with him. She cursed something fierce while double checking the order.

  Roger, the manager of Pandora’s strode into the kitchen unnoticed. He had the impeccable gift of entering a room without a soul knowing and he came up next to her overhearing her obvious non-vow of silence. “Wow, what dock did you come from sailor?” Her head jolted toward Roger, unaware that he was standing next to her. He always had a reassuring smile for her, and was, as always, incredibly handsome. He stood about 6’1 with dark blonde hair and green eyes, an extreme good looker.

  “Sorry, just terribly frustrated…this impossible guy…” Samantha was so tongue tied that she could not even begin to express the frustration that burned inside. “To be honest I don’t think we should serve him again.” She took a deep breath and regained focus to try and explain why, “His smart remarks are appalling. He is a mental case and yet too smart for his own good.” Roger’s expression loomed cynical; he studied her sincerity for a minute. He could tell she was irritated. Her hands rested on her hips waiting for him to say something. Her radiating ambiance was influential upon his thoughts. She was mentally exhausted. “Where’s he sitting?” Roger ran a tight ship, always making sure the staff was friendly and he always made sure the waitresses were treated with respect. “He’s in the left corner booth against the kitchen wall,” she replied while gathering the condiments. Roger faltered at what he heard, thinking maybe he heard incorrectly. “Say again?” The confused look on his face forced her to repeat herself. Roger stood up straight. “Very well then…” He cocked his brow and straightened his tie with a smug grin as he disappeared around the corner to take a look. He promptly returned with an immeasurable smirk, precipitously fading as she glanced over at him. He cleared his throat. “I’ll set him straight for you. This guy is always uselessly hanging around here,” Roger offered as he went back out to the floor. She let out a swift huff as she picked up her tray.

  As Samantha approached the table, she observed Roger sitting across from this callous man. She took in a cavernous breath as she walked over to the booth. Carefully, she set down his plate along with some ketchup and mustard, setting his bill to the side. “Samantha, I hear you’re quite the little waitress.” Roger’s expressionless face directed her way. Her immediate reaction to pout was diverted by her thoughts. Roger wasn’t with this guy more than a minute and he already took his side. She started to wonder if this man was invincible in the restaurant industry.

  “Roger, I…I can explain.” She was struggling not to panic and quickly trying pulling her defense together. “Explain what?” the man asked. A semi arrogant grin pulled on the corner of his mouth. Samantha observed his iced tea in a new glass, lots of ice, not a lemon in sight and not a spill to be seen. Confusion conquered her; she looked back over to Roger whose self-righteous smirk was endless.

  “Samantha this is James, I don’t believe you two have formally met. He owns the Pandora Bar and Grill and he does not usually get billed for his meals, he gets billed for everything else.” Roger was overly amused and was proudly showing it. Suddenly, she felt every single molecule in her body explode. Her eyes widened as she felt her stomach jump into h
er throat. Her body language revealed her loss of composure.

  “That’s ok, Roger, she was just doing her job I don’t mind paying the bill. The boss should be knocked on his ass every once and again, keeps me humble or something….I suppose.” He examined her reaction continuously as he moved from the booth to stand, towering over her in one sharp, sinuous motion. The scent of her perfume teased him relentlessly. Standing less than six inches from his body, she caught a glimpse of his prevailing build; his well-defined chest and his six-pack abs which were well outlined by his white polo. He felt her tense up as she looked away. Her body heat radiated off him. He pulled a twenty from his wallet, carefully positioning the money on top of his bill and slowly sliding it to the edge of the table. The only thing she could see was the crisp bill coming to a stop. The only thing she could hear was the thump of her heart echoing loudly. She closed her eyes wishing the pounding would stop before someone else heard it.

  “Keep the change.” The whisper from his lips blew past her ear, igniting a flame within her senses. The sudden hitch in her breathing caught her off guard, quickly forcing her back into reality. Samantha left the bill and the money on the table, she made a suitable explanation to excuse herself from the dreadfully, uncomfortable situation. “Roger, my shift is over. My side work is done. If you don’t need anything else I will be heading home.” James studied her carefully as she left. She cursed herself a fool as she changed out of her uniform in the ladies restroom. She let her hair down and touched up her make-up, giving herself a quick nod of approval. She went out the front door, hopefully unnoticed.

  Samantha hurried to her car. She swung open the door and threw her bag in the passenger side as she slid in to the driver’s seat. She slammed her hands on her steering wheel. Could I have made a bigger fool of myself? She furiously turned the key in the ignition. Her car made an unresponsive whine. “No…No…this is not happening!” She tried again, nothing. She put her head against the steering wheel and was trying to decide if she was ready to cry or not. Samantha heard someone tapping on her driver side window. She knew it was him before she even looked over. His tap was just as annoying as he was. She was hoping if she ignored his tapping he would just go away, immediately reconsidering her hasty judgment. She knew she needed her job; whether he knew it, was another thing. Samantha slowly turned her head, barely acknowledging his existence.

  “Hi,” James motioned with his mouth while his hands gestured her to roll down her window. She rolled her eyes as her window creaked down. “Having trouble?” he asked. “No, everything is peaches and cream, what can I do for you?” Samantha managed to say without some sort of insult. Her hand clung so tight around the steering wheel that her knuckles turned white. “Why don’t you come inside for a minute or two, I would like a few words with you.” He opened her car door for her, suggesting he was not going to take no for an answer. He waited patiently as she sat there momentarily thinking to herself I know what those two words are. You’re fired. She grabbed her bag, reluctantly following him into the restaurant most likely to collect her last paycheck.

  She followed him behind the main cashier counter into the office. “Have a seat, Samantha. I would like to talk to your about your plans while you’re working at Pandora’s.” James stared at her employee personnel file, contemplating the idea of opening it, and waiting for her to answer in the meantime. “I plan on working…and plan on getting paid for working. That’s about as far as my planning goes, while waitressing here…at Pandora’s.” Samantha wasn’t sure where he was going with this; she was already rather aggravated with him.

  “Look if you’re going to fire me, just do it. I despise games more than I despise you.” James studied her for a minute, letting her snide remark pass without thinking twice. “Are you aware you have severe anger and trust issues?” He took a seat on his desk, deciding the same people who built the Great Wall of China, must have built the massive wall around her. “Are you hungry? Let’s talk over dinner, tonight. It’s my treat, anything you like,” he offered. Typical she thought he owns the place he doesn’t have to put out a cent and he is hitting on me. She thought about it for a minute and picked the one item not on his menu. “Pizza,” she said firmly, waiting for him to condemn her idea. He looked surprised at first then acknowledged her request. “Pizza, you got it. Let’s go.” James accepted her offer. He sat up from his desktop in one lithe motion. Samantha was fuming.

  “Forget it; I am on my own time and that mean’s I am off the clock. I said pizza thinking you would get bent out of shape and let me go home!” she said argumentatively, pacing back and forth between the two desks. “That’s what you get for thinking…I don’t give up that easily,” he said as he grabbed her timecard and punched her in. “Now, you’re on my time, consider this a mandatory new employee meeting.” He sat back down in his chair, taking his time, continuing to look through her personnel file. Samantha stood there staring at him, what nerve he had.

  Appalled by his haughtiness, she slumped down in the only other chair in the office, figuring it must be Roger’s. She glared him down, more annoyed at herself for getting into this position in the first place. Every now and then, he would glimpse up from the manila folder, catching her unconscious gaze that turned into an evil glare as their eyes met. He was waiting for her to loosen up before he attempted another conversation. Samantha could not help but to center her attention back on James. She was starting to wonder if he called her in for his personal amusement. Samantha needed a mental detour far away from this man. He had the ability to cloud her judgment. She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose with the tips of her fingers. She wondered if anything could make her more uncomfortable at this very moment. “Is something wrong?” Samantha was unaware he was watching her every movement.

  She opened her eyes and blinked once, then twice. She peered his way, his head still focused deep within the personnel file. What was so personal about it? As far as she was concerned, it was the ‘have a look, everyone else has’ file. “I am exceedingly tired, and I would really appreciate if you would just let me go home,” was the only thing she could come back with. She was too frustrated to say anything else to him at this point. It was useless trying to fight with him. Anything she said he shrugged off, as it were never said.

  She took notice of his desk, no pictures of any women. Just the restaurant staff’s posing for the camera, at what looked like the grand opening of Pandora’s. His desk was piled with the daily reports of the restaurant, yet, still managed to remain tidy. She had never been in his office before; she was pleasantly surprised by the way it was decorated. It was modern and definitely not stuffy. The light aroma in the office was of a man, and it wasn’t just any man, it was him. His cologne was sweet and masculine at the same time. She closed her eyes taking in his pleasurably delicious scent. Goose bumps trickled over her skin followed by the quiver down her spine. She opened up her sapphire blues to his puzzled expression; she quickly looked away from his inquiring eyes, crossing her legs trying to relax. James made her uneasy the way he looked at her.

  Or was it he was so handsome he distracted her?

  Whatever it was, she did not like being caught off guard. It petrified her not being in control. It was the only way she felt safe. As long as her defenses were up no one could hurt her, no one. James stared at her with his intriguing smile. She didn’t say a word. He knew the time had come for him to approach her. He had worn her down with his patience, waiting for her to calm down.

  “Look, Samantha you seem to be above average in the intelligence department, let me be honest with you. I do not want you to waitress in my restaurant,” he said candidly, dropping her file on his desk. It seemed his mood changed from easy going to serious. “Your attitude is rough around the edges for whatever reason, but I have a feeling you take work very seriously, which would be an asset.” “I have to get home and feed my dog…since my car isn’t working I need to hike home. Can I please go?” Fighting to hold back her tears
she stood abruptly from Roger’s chair. James snagged her arm, as she walked by him. Swinging her around to face him her hair flipped around, several strands catching on the corner of her full, luscious mouth. He raised his hand up at that very moment she flinched. He was set back by her reaction. James cautiously proceeded to brush her hair away from her seamless lips, giving him an excuse to touch her soft face. “Don’t you ever let people finish talking?” he asked her. Her eyes glossy, like the morning dew, caught his gaze. He wasn’t quite sure how to progress with his offer. He stared at her for a moment before speaking, gently releasing her arm.