Marcus (Heartbreakers & Troublemakers Book 5)

by Hope Hitchens

  “I get it,” he said.

  “Thank you for being kind to me,” I said. I didn’t know how often he engaged his tenderness, but I was guessing not unless he absolutely had to.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. Eventually. By force. It wasn’t like I had a choice to remain miserable and broken. Jaden needed me. I needed to work. I needed to figure shit out. He walked up to me and squeezed me again. His hugs were nice. Not professional, but I liked it. I didn’t want professional just then. I wanted him.

  I held his face and leaned up to kiss him. Part of me just wanted to see whether he’d kiss me back. Knowing he still sort of wanted me or whatever would make me feel better. He met me halfway and pulled me in close, his hands resting on my waist instead of around me.

  Maybe he was just feeling sorry for me. That was fine. I was feeling sorry for myself too. His hands found their way under my shirt, touching my skin. He was gentle but firm, an interesting combination that I didn’t hate. His hands felt rough and calloused, but he touched me like he was being careful.

  Sophie ringing the doorbell stopped us before anything else could happen.

  10

  Marcus

  Adina wasn’t home on Sunday. She had told me that she wouldn’t be and also told me that I could take the day off if I wanted to.

  I had thought about it.

  All I wanted to do was whitewash the ceiling to brighten the room up, and then I’d just have to take apart and rebuild the crib. I could easily finish all that today.

  She wouldn’t be there, though. That was a problem. I wanted to see her. She couldn’t blush and play coy anymore. I knew desire when I felt it. If the fact that I was working for her briefly was what was holding her back, I’d be done any day now.

  That kiss. That fucking kiss. Don’t get me wrong, she’d been really upset that other day, and I wanted to see how she was, but I’d been thinking about her generally a lot more than just the girl I was a little worried about.

  She had cried like she’d lost someone that day. Her drama with the kid’s dad was none of my business, but this shit was like Dynasty or something; those shows my mom used to watch.

  I didn’t even know you could adopt someone else’s kid. I didn’t know the kid’s dad, but since he was the one responsible for her tears, I hated him. It was weird. I wanted her to tell me where he lived so I could go beat his ass.

  I’d get in trouble with my PO and probably go to jail for it, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like I had to do something for her, but I didn’t have anything. She was so upset. I didn’t want to be a creep and take advantage of her. The second kiss was cutting it close, but that one? I couldn’t fucking regret.

  If she hadn’t had work, and the doorbell hadn’t rung, we would have fucked. No doubt about it. Right there on the floor. Or maybe her room if she was weird about her kid being in the same room. Whatever. It would have happened.

  I mean I was ready. If she kissed me like that again, if she even got that close to me again, I’d be ready. God, she was sexy. I wanted to fuck her. I wondered whether she would really try the whole, ‘I worked for her’ bullshit excuse. If that was the case, I might as well just finish up in that nursery, so she had nothing to hide behind.

  That and that interview I might have had coming up. I hoped she hadn’t forgotten because if she had, I wasn’t going to bring it up. I had already asked for a favor once; there was a limit.

  I wasn’t going to try to guilt her into something she didn’t want, but she had basically let me know that we wanted the same thing—or at least felt the same way. I didn’t have any plans Sunday. I would likely end up spending a lot of time with Jon at the house. He had been asking where I had gotten those cookies I’d brought back the other day. I didn’t expect him to understand when it came to Adina, which was why I hadn’t really talked to him about her that much.

  It was like the blind leading the blind. Adina, and what was happening between us wasn’t something I had had experience with either. We had been in communication for a little while now, a little while for me was any amount of time over two days, I never pursued women with this amount of single-mindedness. I hadn’t fucked anyone since getting sucked off by Jessie in her kitchen.

  She’d be ready eventually, and then we’d do it, and then I could relax.

  That warmth and light that came off of her, I just liked it. That was why I liked seeing her so much; when I basked in it, I could pretend I had some of that. Hang around enough that I caught some of it radiating off of her.

  I didn’t need a lot of distractions while I worked, but I knew what I would be thinking about while I was working today. I left for her house as soon as she got back to me saying the house wasn’t empty.

  I thought it would be that woman, Sophie, her neighbor who opened the door for me but nope. Jessica.

  “Hey, Jess,” I said a little surprised to see her.

  “Marc. What are you doing here?” she asked. If I was honest, I thought she had been fired. I hadn’t seen her since that first time we had been there together. Then that neighbor had been sitting Jaden so, I just thought… wow. Adina was nice. She wasn’t just sorry for me.

  “I’m working on Adina’s nursery. She didn’t tell you?”

  “She did, she just didn’t tell me you’d be coming today.”

  “Can I come in?” I asked. She hadn’t pulled the door open.

  “I just wanted to take Jaden out for a walk, but I guess that could wait,” she said, opening the door and wrapping her arms around my neck, kissing me. I pushed her away.

  “Jessie, slow down, I just came here to work,” I said, grabbing my stuff and walking into the house past her. I went to the nursery. I should have started with the ceiling; the other walls were already done. Periwinkle blue was the shade Adina had chosen. If I was careful, I wouldn’t get any dripping at the edges.

  “Are you serious?” I heard Jessie ask from the door of the room. She was standing there with her arms crossed.

  “Huh?” I asked, looking at her. I wasn’t paying attention.

  “Well, you aren’t going to be doing that forever. Adina will probably only be back at night,” she said walking into the room. She put her hands on me and ran them down to the button of my jeans.

  “Stop it, Jess,” I told her, moving her hands away.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she asked, upset.

  “Not now, okay. Not here.” I walked away from her to the window. The room’s light fixtures were on the walls, so I’d been able to mount the mobile centrally on the ceiling. The crib would have to go right under it.

  “There was no problem the last time we were here together.”

  “What the fuck, Jess? Why are you acting like I just insulted your mom or something?”

  “Why don’t you… oh. Oh, my god. Are you seeing someone else?”

  “Last I checked, we weren’t together Jessica.”

  “Oh my god, you are. Who is this chick? You’ve never turned me down before. She must be something,” she said.

  “She’s cool,” I said vaguely.

  “Not going to tell me?” She walked up closer, standing in front of me.

  “You sound jealous.”

  “I am,” she said playfully. “What does she do? Let you put it in her butt? Threesomes?” I frowned. I wanted her to stop. She was talking about Adina even if she didn’t know she was. I wasn’t going to deny that I wanted to fuck Adina, dirty as she’d let me, but Jessie didn’t need to know that.

  Saying I was seeing her was sort of a lie, but I didn’t want to fuck Jessie. I didn’t even want to let Jessie suck my dick.

  “Oh,” she stopped suddenly, looking away like she had seen something I couldn’t. “Do you… like her? Are you with this girl?”

  “I don’t ask you about who you see, Jess. I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Is she the reason you’ve been so busy lately?”

  “Jessica
, stop it. Please. Weren’t you leaving? Go take the baby for a walk or whatever.”

  “Why are you being so defensive?”

  “Fine, you don’t want to leave, I will,” I said. I hadn’t unpacked anything yet. I’d just leave the paint in the corner for tomorrow. I didn’t want to talk anymore. She wasn’t going to let up, and I wasn’t going to argue with her.

  “What’s your problem today, Marc?”

  I walked out of the room.

  “Should I tell her you came?”

  “Don’t bother, I’ll tell her.”

  “Will you call me?” she asked. I sighed. She had no reason to take this badly, but I had a feeling she would.

  “No, Jess. I won’t.

  “At least tell me her name if she has you completely sprung,” she said. I shook my head letting myself out and walking down the stairs.

  We hadn’t been together; I didn’t owe her anything. I should have felt nothing fucking her right then, but I did. It felt disrespectful now since I knew Adina and she wasn’t home, and both of us were there to do a job, not fuck. I also just really didn’t want to fuck Jessica, nothing personal, I just wasn’t feeling it for anyone really… except Adina.

  I’d just tell her I had to reschedule. She had wanted me to take the day off, anyway.

  That night, I found a text message from her. A time, date and place. The next day, nine AM, Midtown.

  Bright and early Monday morning, I had an interview.

  Helena Rossum-Hanna, with the hyphen between Rossum and Hanna, was the name of the woman Adina worked for. The woman who was interviewing me.

  The women always scared me more. They weren’t as many as the men, but the ones who were there were usually really mean. I guess you didn’t own your own business by being nice.

  This lady looked like if you brought a mannequin to life. None of her parts seemed like they had that much movement or warmth.

  She had been reading my resume silently for the past five minutes straight. I didn’t know why; there wasn’t that much on it. I didn’t go to college. I had a GED, some certification, but that was it. I worked at a meat processing factory for a while but got laid off from that.

  I also had a tattoo on my face. It had seemed like a bad and irresponsible idea at the time, and it still was. Nothing makes you look more like an ex-con than a face tattoo.

  My entire throat was covered so with or without it; it didn’t make that much of a difference. If they didn’t treat me like an ex-con because of the tattoo, they would when I told them that I was one, the way I would have to tell this woman as soon as she remembered I was there.

  “Mr. Kissel,” she started, finally looking up, “you’ve never been a waiter before.” Not a question. Did she just want me to agree with her?

  “I haven’t.”

  “Nothing in a related field either,” she paused and looked at me. “Why do you think you’d be able to work with us? Being a server is easy?”

  “It isn’t. I know it isn’t. I’m confident in my ability to learn new skills. A lack of experience will not stop me from applying myself in this position as much as I have in past ones.” She looked at my resume again.

  “What’s going on between you and Adina?” she asked before peering up at me. Well; that took a turn. What sort of answer was she expecting?

  “Adina and I met through a mutual friend,” I said giving her the safe-for-work version of the truth. “She hired me to do some work at her house.”

  “You asked her to set this up for you,” she said. Yeah, I had. Who told her that, I wondered? Were her and Adina friends? More importantly, how did Adina describe me when she talked about me?

  “I did,” I said, agreeing because she hadn’t really asked me a question.

  “There are a lot of different people who choose to work in catering. For most, it isn’t their only job. I can understand this being your second option for supplementary income, but I’m curious; why did you ask Adina to set this up for you?” Because I needed to dig myself out of a lie I had told my PO?

  “I’ve never had the opportunity to work in formal customer service before. She told me about her job, I learned about your company, and I asked her for the chance to speak to you.”

  “Speak frankly with me, Mr. Kissel. I don’t need or want you to kiss my ass. You don’t have a passion for hospitality and service. Why are you really here?”

  “I need a job,” I said. “I’ve never worked service in my life. You’re right, I’m not passionate about silver trays and cloth napkins, but right now, that doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re desperate?” she asked, leaning back in her seat. She was smiling, smug. Were she and Adina friends? How? This lady was a bitch.

  “I went to prison instead of college. My employment history is barely a year long. I am a convicted felon. I doubt you’ve been one yourself, but do you know how many of us end up back inside after our release? I can only do so much to prevent that for myself. People like Adina understand that. I can’t be part of a society that won’t let me.”

  “Adina let you work for her, so I should too?”

  “No. Adina let me work for her because she had something that needed to be done and I could do it. I wouldn’t expect you to hire me for any other reason besides you seeing me as an asset.” Her eyebrows went up a little, and she leaned forward onto her desk. She folded her hands over my resume.

  “Thank you, Mr. Kissel. We’ll be in touch.”

  11

  Marcus

  I didn’t have to cancel on Adina the next morning because we were going to be at the same place. Helena Rossum-Hanna’s catering company was high end. Very high end, like none of these people were in the same tax bracket as me high end. She had told me I could start immediately. I’d be part of the service team at their next event, the very next day. There was a uniform I had to make sure I fit into, and training I would have to do with their head waiter, and people I had to meet and make friends with because we were going to be working as a team. Stupid stuff. Boring stuff, but it was work stuff. She’d given me the job.

  Everything she said to me sort of sounded like a threat, and I was not dumb enough to think she liked me, but she was giving me a chance, and that was all I had asked for.

  Apparently, sometimes when rich people had events in New York City, they rented an entire vacant apartment or house to do that. This was why we hated them. You’re so rich you won’t even use your own house to have your event because you can rent an entire other house to do it in?

  I wondered how many people would ask me for coke. It was one of those massive townhouses that two families could live in easily and never cross paths.

  We were catering a brunch, a made-up meal that people could use to have an excuse to do shit like this for. The guests would start arriving and we, the waiters would serve drinks in the great room. After that, they’d sit at the table, and we’d serve the food. We had to be there, ready way before the event actually began. Once we had been given our instructions, we had to stay on the premises, easy to find, so there was no delay when they needed us.

  The head waiter was a guy named Franz. He was foreign, but shit if I knew from where. He looked like he was in his thirties and didn’t bother to even try pretending he wasn’t horrified when he saw me.

  Since I was the new guy, and I didn’t have any experience, I was the one he was going to be watching. I didn’t want to think it was easy, but it was not that difficult. We weren’t going to talk, really, just offer champagne, mimosas, and bloody marys while the guests hung out and then give them food when they sat down. We didn’t have to remember what any of the food was called; we’d just be dropping it. I had steady hands. I could smile and ask people how they were that morning, direct them to the restroom, things like that.

  Franz made us do a walkthrough. He was real anal about all of us dropping the plates at the same time, from the same side, perfectly straight on the place setting. When we dropped them, one of the chefs would tell ever
yone what they were eating. We were one waiter to each guest, so it was like an army of us. Dudes in uncomfortable black and white suits.

  I didn’t know what was on the menu, but it was going to be delicious because Adina had cooked it. I hadn’t seen her yet. She was in the kitchen most likely. I wanted to see her. It was cool getting to see what she did for a living, but I wondered what she looked like when she was cooking.

  I was going to guess I’d love the way she looked doing that too. She’d probably be really neat and organized, and her face would turn pink from all the heat coming off the stove top and out of the ovens. I was thinking about her when I saw her enter the dining room. She scanned all the waiters till she got to me and stopped, smiling.

  She walked in and talked to Franz briefly before she came up to me.

  “Look at you,” she said, smiling.

  “What do you think?”

  “You look great. Come with me,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me along behind her out of the room. She must have asked Franz whether she could borrow me.

  “Where are we going?”

  She took me to this room that was full of bags and shoes and things, still on the same floor. They were probably using this room to leave all their stuff in while they cooked. Makeshift locker room.

  “Helena told me you did great at the interview,” she said.

  “What? You thought I’d make you look bad like that?” I asked. I heard her laugh. Her hand was pretty small in mine. I didn’t really want her to let go. I wouldn’t say I did great at the interview, but maybe Helena was trying to toughen up her image or something. “What did she say about me?” She closed the door.

  “She was impressed. But she did have one request,” she said. “Your tattoo. She asked me to tell you to cover it when you’re working.”

  “Just the one?” I asked.

  “The one on your face is the most distracting. Your collar hides most of this,” she said, running her finger over the collar of my shirt. Worst invention in the world. Whose idea was it to make a piece of clothing that literally felt like it was trying to kill you when you wore it? I mean it was a problem when your clothes gave you the feeling of being in a noose.