“I’m sure you are very reliable,” he finally said sounding sincere. “But I might need you in an emergency. Or you might need to get ahold of me.” When I opened my mouth to protest he continued quickly, “Like if you get sick. Instead of having me hunt you down again, you could just text me and let me know you can’t make it.”
A vision of me in my rattiest sweats, my hair a matted mess, leftover puke dried in the corner of my lips and a cold sheen of sweat running down my temples while I answered the door to an irate Fin made that hypothetical situation crystal clear. He had a point, and I didn’t really feel inclined to argue with him anymore.
“Ok, that’s a decent enough reason.” I pulled my phone from my apron and opened it to my contacts. “Give it to me.” I held my thumb poised over the touchscreen keypad, ready to act.
“Here, let’s just switch phones. That will be easier.”
I thought over the repercussions of handing Fin my phone, but in the end relented. I could easily keep an eye on him for thirty sEconds. With the swap of phones I entered my number into his contacts list, saved it and then discretely scrolled through the rest of his contacts with a casual swipe of my thumb. So. Many. Girls.
In fact, so many girls with only first name entries. Which told me he didn’t have to try very hard to earn their number and they didn’t care enough to make him.
I stifled a groan and then held his phone up impatiently while he finished entering his number into my phone. “Did you come here on purpose? Or is running into you just a coincidence?”
He traded phones with me, and then shoved it into his pocket without even glancing at my entry. Either I was way too suspicious of people for no reason other than I grew up with three, pranking, cruel brothers. Or he was just used to people- read girls- doing whatever he wanted them to.
“I’ve known you work here since you entered my game,” he said matter of factly as if all his extensive knowledge of my life should not still freak me out. “But I don’t know your schedule because you haven’t given it to me yet. So this was coincidence.”
“Oh,” I breathed, feeling silly for thinking he searched me out.
“But I can’t deny that I chose this place hoping I would find you working tonight,” he smiled crookedly at me, innocent and a little embarrassed.
Ok, I wasn’t feeling silly anymore. I was feeling a thrill of pleasure. No, that was wrong. I was feeling a flare of panic because he was obviously stalking me and it was obnoxious if not a little scary.
“So we could exchange numbers,” I hedged.
“Yep.”
That was way too casual. I looked down at my phone, deciding to ignore him and went about changing Fin Hunter to Econ Tutor. I smiled a little at my inside joke.
“What did you just do?” he demanded and plucked my phone from my fingers before I could stop him. “Econ Tutor? Why don’t you want my name in your phone?”
Did he sound hurt?
No, obviously not.
“I have three brothers that routinely go through my recent calls and text messages. I really don’t want them finding out about any of this.” I tilted my chin defiantly when something flashed in his eyes. Not anything like hurt, because then I might have felt bad. It was more like challenge, possession. And those were emotions I did not feel equipped to defuse.
“Are you…. embarrassed of knowing me?” he asked like he didn’t really want the answer.
“What? No, I’m embarrassed of being in this stupid situation. Of owing you money I don’t really owe you,” I explained in a rushed whisper when more customers came through the door. “Now go away, you have my number and I have to get back to work.”
“When are you going to finish the rest of your hours this week?” His eyes flickered intense black and then softened to that deep, melty chocolate I wanted to gaze into for hours at a time. He slid his hands forward so that his fingers were only an inch from mine, his palms tipped downward. One subtle movement from either of us and our fingertips would be touching.
“Um, it will have to be Monday,” I whispered hurriedly, anxious to get him away from me. “I work the next three days here.”
“You’re four hours short this week,” he reminded with an authoritative edge to his voice.
“Well, the only time I am not working this weekend is Sunday morning and afternoon and I have things and homework to catch up on,” I hissed in reply.
“You could work for me instead of going for your Sunday run,” he suggested deviously.
“How did you-“ I shook my head. Of course, he knew way too much. “I’m not giving that up. You can wait till Monday. I’ll put in extra hours next week. My schedule here is lighter anyway.”
“You’re breaking our arrangement already,” he pouted, but his expression was steely, determined. He was actually concerned about this.
“Ok, I owe you a total of fourteen hours next week?” I asked and he nodded. “I’ll get some of the background work done this weekend so you won’t feel like we’re behind and then I’ll add a couple hours to my time next week. Alright?”
He thought it over for a few moments while the waiting guests stood patiently behind him. They probably assumed he was a costumer, not a bizarre stalker bargaining unfairly for more of my time.
“Alright, but I determine how many extra hours,” he countered, wagging a playful finger in front of me.
I grabbed it, holding it firmly in my grip. Sounding as annoyed as I could, I pled, “Within reason.”
When he didn’t answer right away I tugged on his finger, as if in warning, but really there was nothing behind it. This earned another smug smile from him and he looked down at me from under his thick lashes like he withheld a secret from me, like he would concede to my demands but only because he had something else up his sleeve. I gave a soft, exasperated sigh and then realized I was still holding on to his finger.
I dropped it immediately and then turned my attention away from him to the waiting customers.
He started to walk by me with a bemused expression on his face when he stopped suddenly as if remembering why he was talking to me in the first place. “Oh, I logged you into my Facebook and Gmail account so you can multitask.”
Whipping my head around to glare at him, I said, “You’re awfully demanding, when I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart.”
“So bill me,” he shrugged his shoulders and walked on.
I was left to force myself to smile and welcome the young couple to Bailey’s when all I wanted to do was scream in frustration. And not only because he assumed I would just work constantly for him and he could just write this off as part of my unfair debt, but also because I kind of wanted to. This was really interesting to me. I liked judging people behind a wall of anonymity, I liked secretly delving into their lives and finding out pertinent pieces of information only to weigh it all against them.
I walked the couple to their table, letting them get situated before I launched into my practiced spiel. I shook my head hard and finished going over tonight’s specials with the couple before I headed back to the host stand. Britte was waiting for me practically salivating at the mouth for juicy details I couldn’t give her while there was even a chance Fin could overhear us.
“You’re going to make me wait for this, aren’t you?” she asked before I had a chance to explain.
“How did you know?”
“You have that ‘not-a-chance-in-hell’ expression on your face, the one I think Fin Hunter is getting really familiar with,” she laughed, watching Fin’s table over my shoulder.
“Why would you say that?” I demanded, bristling at her innuendo. On top of pathetic and desperate was I also somehow frigid and closed off.
“Because you have higher standards than what he’s used to. As if a few nice smiles and godlike muscles were enough to get you nak*d and in his bed!”
“Exactly,” my ego was soothed.
“No matter how he’s staring at you,” she murmured as if nice smiles and godlike muscles were all that it would take for her.
“How’s he staring at me?” My breath hitched and my shoulders tensed. I couldn’t turn around, I wouldn’t turn around. I knew how he would be staring at me and it would only make me feel-
“Like he wants to beat his chest, throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to his cave.” Britte was drooling over this, enjoying every minute of my shame and humiliation.
I wasn’t exactly unaffected either. Unable to stop myself I turned around and met those nearly obsidian eyes. “What would he do to me once he got me back to his cave?” I whispered before I could stop myself.
“Ravish you until you forgot your own name…. until the only name you could remember was his as you screamed it out over and over and over-“
“Ellie go home!” Ty demanded from three feet away in his most serious voice.
Britt and I jumped and squealed.
This was not a request. This was a demand. And when I realized I was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at Fin, while Britte went on and on I decided I couldn’t blame Ty for kicking me out. I turned around to face five very entertained diners, all waiting to be seated and my face flamed the brightest red. Oh no, had they heard everything Britte just said? And did any of them know my brothers?
Ack. This was a mess.
Still, the need to defend myself rose strong and self-righteously. So while a nonplussed Britte sat the waiting patrons, I turned on Ty, “Ty, I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Yes, but you’re not closing tonight so you’re the easiest to send home. Plus all of the problems seem to be originating with you, you little trouble maker. Now be gone.” He was not going to be argued with and I had to admit I was kind of relieved to be able to get out of here. I definitely felt like I was in a fishbowl of weirdness tonight.
“You’re going to regret this,” I tisked because I couldn’t help myself.
“Probably,” he said absently and then he attacked. “What did Hunter want?”
“Um, nothing really. He hired me to do some…. work for him and I forgot to give him my number. It’s time sensitive so he needs to be able to get ahold of me,” I rambled the excuse I practiced in my head just in case one of my brothers asked me the same question. Ty clearly didn’t need that much information, but the excuse came out in one, long practiced speech like I was helpless to change it up or improvise. I would need to work on that.
“He’s like a son to me,” Ty announced ominously.
After a long pause I finally said, “Oh, ok.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, or if that was some kind of warning.
“And you’re like a daughter to me,” Ty continued.
“What? No I’m not!” I laughed, because seriously…. I mean, seriously…. If this was how Ty treated children then…. seriously, hopefully he was joking. And he should never have any real ones.
“Do you get what I’m saying, Ellie? If he’s like a son and you’re like a daughter? That would make anything between you incestual. Which is gross.” He actually shuddered. As if his messed up logic made any kind of sense.