by C. Morgan
“Yes.”
“You are yelling at the fish?”
“They swim around, acting like they are untouchable. I am here to show them they are not. All I would have to do is grab a net and they are all chum. I bet they give the other fish that are actually worth a shit a lot of shit.”
“Yes, I’m sure they do. They look like the bullying type.”
I stepped onto the boat. He continued to babble, warning the fish he was coming for them. I didn’t let his annoying behavior bother me. I doubted there was anything that could annoy me today. I was in too good of a mood to let Stanley’s ramblings bother me.
When he finished saying what he had to say to his nemeses, he finally climbed on board.
“You good?” I asked him. “Get everything all worked out?”
“Yep. Let’s get out there. I’m ready to get some real fishing done.”
I started the engine with a silent prayer and a lot of hope. It took a few times, but it finally fired up. When it felt like it was going to stay running, I pulled away from the dock and headed out to sea. I pulled up on my first string, keeping my fingers crossed our traps were full. Lobster fishing was a lot like gambling. You put all you had into the boat and the traps and there was never a guarantee it would pay off.
“Grab it!” I shouted.
Stanley was already pulling in the trap. I moved to help him, working well as we pulled, unloaded, baited, and reset the pots on the first string.
“We’re on them,” Stanley said with excitement. “This is going to be a good day.”
“The rain,” I told him. “I love a good storm.”
The next string proved just as good. The pots were full, and the catch was good. It wasn’t often we had a day like this. “The gods are smiling down on us today,” Stanley said.
I drove the boat to our next string. “Yes, they are.”
“What did you do yesterday?” he asked.
“Not much.”
“You did something that pleased the gods,” he said, being completely serious.
I did something that pleased me, but I didn’t know if there were any gods that would have approved. “I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.”
He stopped what he was doing. “That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“Something was off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but now I see it. You smiled at me.”
“I smile all the time,” I retorted.
He slowly shook his head. “No, you don’t. What did you do for real?”
“I hung out with Amara last night.”
His eyes widened and a grin spread over his face. “Amara? Who’s this? Where did you meet her?”
I wasn’t surprised he didn’t remember the name. I could very easily get away with telling him a story about meeting a different woman. “She owns the new restaurant,” I explained.
“Wait, what?”
“Amara, remember? The new client we have.”
“No shit? You’re sleeping with a customer?”
I opened my mouth to deny it and then quickly closed it. “It’s not like that.”
“What did you do?”
“She invited me over to her place for dinner.”
“No shit!”
“You act like that is really a surprise,” I told him, trying not to be offended.
“You two are like apples and oranges,” he replied.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are very different. She’s rich. You’re not. She’s a lady and you’re a fisherman.”
The amazing thing about his statement was he thought he was revealing some big secrets. “I’m glad you understand all that. That doesn’t matter. Besides, I think you might be wrong about who she is.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think she’s the girl you thought. She’s not rich.”
He looked confused. “I’m sure you told me her last name.”
“I did, but Amara isn’t a billionaire. She’s normal. She has a normal apartment, mismatched dishes and is unpacking her new apartment by herself. If she was as rich as you say she is, wouldn’t she live somewhere better? Wouldn’t she have people to do all of that for her?”
“Hell, if I know,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never been rich.”
“What name were you looking up when you found out all that stuff?”
He looked up at the sky. “I don’t remember now. I remember watching a video of a cat watching TV and then there was an ad or something and I don’t remember. I think I got bored. Maybe I was watching a Kardashian clip or something. You know those ladies are wild. They’re rich. Maybe I got her confused. I don’t know.”
I stared at him for several seconds. I wished I could see inside his brain. I wanted to know if there were actual little hamsters in cages, just spinning on wheels. I had never met someone quite like Stanley. He could change topics faster than any person I knew. His brain should be studied. He should be studied.
“All right, well, thanks for all of the intel, Stanley. As always, your input has been an invaluable help.”
He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “So, what’s the deal with the two of you? Are you banging?”
“No.”
“Liar. You got laid. I can see it all over your face. It’s about time. You’ve been in a dry spell lately. I thought I was going to have to help you out.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what kind of help you were going to give, but in the future, if I’m in a dry spell, don’t help.”
“Shit, I wasn’t offering to get you off,” he said with disgust. “Geez. Where does your mind go?”
I opened my mouth and then shut it again. It was pointless to try and point out it was his mind drifting. “Nowhere. Absolutely fucking nowhere.”
“Maybe she’s fucking you so you will give her free lobster,” he mused aloud while he worked.
“I don’t think that’s the case.”
“I don’t know man,” he said sounding very dire. “Women will do some crazy shit to get what they want. She sought you out because you have cheap lobster. Maybe she thinks she can bat her eyes and spread her legs and you’ll give her whatever she wants.”
“Stanley, I’m going to say this one time. Hear me, please. Do not talk about her like that. She isn’t using me to get free anything. She isn’t like that. Please, talk about her with a tiny bit of respect.”
“Oh shit, someone is sensitive. Fulton has a girlfriend.”
“I do not,” I shot back before realizing we both sounded like children. “She’s a nice girl. If you can promise me you can be polite, maybe I’ll let you meet her one of these days.”
“I don’t know,” he said with his goofy smile. “She might see me and decide she wants all of this and leave you hanging. I don’t want to lose my job over a woman. It’s this sex appeal I have. I can’t keep the women off me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I assured him.
“She’d really be working it if she did us both. Then you couldn’t tell me she wasn’t trying to get free lobster.”
I didn’t respond. There was no point. I knew she wasn’t trying to get free anything. I didn’t really know what was going on between us, but I didn’t get the feeling she was using me for fish. I wasn’t convinced she wasn’t using me for a good time, but I didn’t mind that. Didn’t all relationships start out like that? I knew we were compatible in the bedroom—kitchen rather. She wanted to get laid. I was more than happy to oblige. We both enjoyed ourselves. No harm, no foul.
There was nothing wrong with us sleeping together when the mood arose. I knew I wanted her again. I was confident she would want me again. I had felt her body’s response to me. She loved every second of it. There was no way she wouldn’t want to come back for more. I was going to keep her satisfied and begging. The woman would never open those sweet legs and wet pussy for another man.
She was mine. I would stake my claim. If that fucker Nick came sn
iffing around again, I was going to let him know she was not to be touched. If he touched her, I would drop him. She wanted me and that pup could scurry on back to his little office and drink lattes all day. Amara needed a man. She needed someone that knew how to fuck her until she was screaming for more. That man was me.
Just thinking about her was making me hard. I wanted her again. I checked the time and wondered what time she would be done with work. I was half-tempted to show up at her place without an invitation. I was confident she wouldn’t deny me. I only needed to kiss her to remind her of what I could do to her.
“You have a weird look on your face,” Stanley said, snapping me out of the dangerous thoughts I was having. “Don’t you dare push up on me.”
“Trust me, Stanley. Your body is safe.”
Chapter 16
Amara
It was a slow day. I wasn’t going to let it worry me. In fact, the slow pace was kind of nice. It gave us a chance to do some cleaning and stocking while training our staff in different areas. I had worn a shirt with a high collar to hide my little love bite. Truthfully, I liked wearing it. I wanted to show it off. I wanted everyone to know Fulton claimed me. I didn’t show it off or tell anyone, not even Kerri. I didn’t know what was happening between us, but if it was just a one-hit wonder, I didn’t want to be laughed at for thinking he wanted me more than he actually did.
I was busy in the office when my cell phone rang. I glanced over and saw my dad’s face. “Hey, Dad!” I greeted.
“Amara, how are you?” he asked.
“Fine. Why? What’s up?”
“Are you at the restaurant?”
“Yes, why?” he was angling for something. I knew him well enough to know he wanted me to do something.
“Why don’t you leave your manager in charge and let us cook you dinner?”
“Us?” I asked.
He laughed. “Your mother. I won’t be cooking.”
“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “It’s not busy now but it might get busy later.”
“And you have a staff that can handle the business. That’s what they are there for. If you are a good owner, you will have hired a quality staff. The true sign of a good owner is when they can leave their business in the hands of the people they’ve hired.”
I laughed. “Really? Then why don’t you leave your work all that often?”
His deep laughter floated through the phone. “That’s different. Come on out. We’d love to see you and catch up. You’ve been so busy, and your mother would love to see you.”
“Okay, let me check with Kerri and see if she’ll be okay without me.”
“I’ll see you in an hour,” he said and hung up.
He was pretty sure I would accept the invitation. I left the office and found Kerri keeping a watchful eye over things. She already told me I should go. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t trust her. I did.
“Hey, how is it going?” I asked her.
“Good. Few more customers coming in.”
“Do you think you could handle things if I left? My dad wants me to go out to the house and have dinner with them.”
“Yes, I can handle things. That’s why you are paying me the big bucks.”
I smiled. “I hope I can pay you the big bucks very soon. Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Go see your family. I’ve got this.”
“Thank you.”
“Amara, you hired me to be your manager. When I’m here, you don’t have to be. That’s my job. I’m supposed to be you when you aren’t here.”
“I know. I just feel guilty.”
“Don’t. Now go.”
I thanked her again before grabbing my purse and phone from the office and slipped out the back door. I wasn’t going to bother going home and changing. I hadn’t done anything to get dirty and it was just going to be dinner with my parents. I took a quick look in the rearview mirror and made sure my hickey was hidden by my collar. I did not want to explain that to my overprotective daddy.
When I got to the house, my dad was in his study and my mother was cooking dinner in the kitchen.
“It smells good,” I said as I walked in.
“Thank you. It probably won’t be as good as anything you would make, but I try.”
“Your cooking is great,” I said. “Can I help you with anything?”
She laughed. “You can tell me how you stole my recipes and made them so good.”
“I borrowed your recipes,” I teased.
“How is the restaurant? Your father told me it was busy the night he stopped in.”
“It’s been good. Dad’s little boost to my advertising nearly tanked us.”
“How so?”
“Because we were so busy, I nearly ran out of everything,” I said with a laugh. “It was awesome though. I am hopeful it was the kickoff we needed to launch us as one of the best places to take the family.”
“I’m sure it will be.”
My dad breezed into the kitchen. “Ah, I knew you would come,” he said and gave me a quick hug.
“You didn’t make it optional,” I teased.
He winked. “It isn’t. I’ll set the table. Will you help?”
“Sure.”
I moved to grab the silverware and noticed he grabbed four plates instead of three. I said nothing, thinking maybe he was just grabbing without thinking. We set the table, and sure enough, he put out four wine glasses and lit the long taper candles. That was something he only did if we were having company.
Before I could ask who the guest was, the doorbell rang. “Can you grab that?” he asked. “I’m going to grab a bottle of white for our dinner.”
It seemed a little fancy for a basic dinner, but it wasn’t totally unheard of. I walked to the door and opened it, expecting one of my dad’s friends. “Nick?” I said with confusion. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled, leaned forward, and kissed my cheek. I had to fight to keep from wiping my cheek with disgust. “Your father invited me,” he said. “He didn’t tell you?”
I was going to have a very stern conversation with my father. “No, he did not.”
“Then I guess this is a nice surprise for you,” he said with his practiced smile.
I pasted on my own fake smile and opened the door wide enough for him to come in. He strolled down the foyer like he owned the place. He took off his suit jacket and handed it to me like I was a footman. I swallowed my pride and took it from him, hanging it in the coat closet before following him into the dining room.
“Nick,” my father exclaimed. “You made it!”
“Thank you for the invitation,” Nick replied.
“Of course, of course. I’ll pour you a drink.”
I stood and watched, wondering what my father was up to. Nick handed me a glass of wine. “It’s good to see you again, Amara.”
“Thanks,” I said with the same forced smile.
I was already thinking of how I could get out of staying. I should have told Kerri to call me. What was that thing she said to text if I wanted out of my dinner with Fulton? I couldn’t remember. I should have paid attention.
“Dinner is ready!” my mom sang out, carrying the pot roast in and putting it on the table.
“It smells great, Mom,” I told her and took my seat. Much to my irritation, Nick sat down beside me.
“How’s the restaurant?” Nick asked me.
“It’s going well,” I answered taking a bite before he could ask me anything else.
“How about you, Nick?” my dad asked.
Nick puffed up like a blowfish. I actually had to scoot over a little to keep from being smothered by his puffy chest. “Things are going very well. I’ve picked up another client. I’m expecting to cross into the seven-figure range this year.”
“Wow!” my dad said, looking at me and then Nick. “That is impressive. You are doing very well for yourself.”
“I am. I’ve earned broker of the month the last two months in a row. I expect I�
�ll secure the yearly title as well, which will earn me a fat bonus. I have my eye on a boat and that bonus will make sure it happens.”
I stuffed another bite of meat into my mouth. Nick rambled on about how awesome he was and how much money he was making. I wanted to gag. I was surprised my parents were entertaining the conversation. They had always taught me it wasn’t polite to brag and it certainly wasn’t polite to talk about money.
“Did you make it to Amara’s restaurant?” my dad asked.
I shot him a look, dreading what was coming next. Nick looked at me and offered a tight smile. “I did. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to stay and enjoy a meal.”
“What? Why not? Was it busy?”
“No, her boyfriend was intent on scaring me away. He seemed a bit rabid. You really should keep him on a leash in public, Amara.”
I wanted to kick his ass. If Fulton heard him talk like that, he would have absolutely kicked his ass and I wouldn’t have stopped him. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I hissed.
He shrugged. “He certainly seemed to think he was. I’m surprised he didn’t pee on your leg.”
“Nick,” my mother scolded.
“He is my supplier. We were having a conversation and you very rudely interrupted it. When I asked you to have a seat and I would get to you, you were very disrespectful. He is a good man and didn’t appreciate the way you spoke to me. Quite frankly, neither did I.”
There was a silence around the table before my father cleared his throat. “Your supplier?” my father asked.
“Her yard dog,” Nick said with a laugh. “Built like an ox and I imagine he does a lot of manual labor.”
I refused to stay in his presence another second. He was a rude asshole, and if I didn’t leave, I was going to say something that would make my mother blush. Either that, or I was going to shove his face into his mashed potatoes. I reminded myself of what I told Fulton. Violence was never the answer.
I took a deep breath and offered my mother a small smile. “Mom, this was an amazing dinner. Thank you. I need to get going. I have a lot to get done.”
“What? You can’t leave. I made dessert!”
“I’m sorry,” I said and got to my feet. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my father. I was so angry my hands were shaking.