Melinda chuckles again.“Maybe I do.What’s the message, Kingston?I want to get Thai take-out and watch a movie with my wife tonight.”
“Could you give her my personal phone number?”I list off the digits.“And tell her to call me.No,” I correct myself, “pleaseaskher to call me.”
I can try to boss Ella around until I’m blue in the face, but right now, I think a lighter approach is needed.
Patience isn’t one of my virtues, but I can fake it for a few more days.
Ella
Six days have passed since the Tyler Gala and the most perfect, magical evening of my entire life.That was, without a doubt, the best sex I’ve ever had or ever will have.
The evening sure ended terribly, though.Mrs.Dali told me not to worry about her friend’s shoes, but I feel awful and I’ll be saving up my wages to give to the friend to replace the shoes.
Because what I really needed was to owe someone else money.
I’ve picked up a quick cleaning shift at a hotel in Dorado Heights, and I have to go straight from there to Bartleby’s to open the restaurant with Natasha.When I arrive at the pub in my maid’s dress, Natasha raises her eyebrows.
“It’s okay, I brought a change of clothes,” I say.
She laughs and motions for me to twirl, so I do.
“Nah, it’s cute,” she says.“If anyone could pull off the sack dress look, it’s you.”
“Thanks?”I say.
“I’m just messing with you,” she says, tugging me into a hug.“How are you doing?”
I shrug.Natasha and I have gotten a little closer over the past week.I needed someone to confide in, and I definitely didn’t want to give Mrs.Dali a heart attack by sharing too many details of my night with Mr.Tyler and Sebastian.So I gave Mrs.Dali the abbreviated version and told Natasha everything except the names of the two men involved.And the fact that one is the father of my ex.
Those details are too wild, too sordid, to be shared.
Natasha’s green eyes take a long, careful look at my face.“You’re not okay.But that’s okay.Have you thought of reaching out to either of them?”
“Nope.No way.”I carry my bag toward the employee restroom past Kevin’s office.
Rather than refilling the salt and pepper shakers and ketchup containers like she’s supposed to be doing, Natasha follows me.“Tell me why you can’t simply talk to them,” she says.
“Because someone like me does not belong in Dorado Heights,” I say.“I cleaned up well enough, but Joel still looked at me like I was shit on the bottom of his shoe.”
Natasha puts a hand on her hip and points at my chest.“If I had the hots for some fancy pants businessman,” she says slowly, “would you tell me I didn’t belong with him?”
“Oh, hell no,” I say.
“Would you tell me I wasn’t good enough?Would you tell me that even though I looked good for the Bellefleur District, I wasn’t good enough for Dorado Heights?”
“No fucking way, Natasha.”
“Exactly.So who thehellare you to say that same shit to yourself?”
“I—” I have no answer.She makes a very good point, although it’s very different.I can’t tell her that these men are like royalty, and I’m no queen.
I remember Sebastian calling me “princess,” and a thrill of lust flutters through me.I squash it down.
“Dude,” Natasha says, “there aretwo hot guyswho rocked your world.Don’t sell yourself short, and for fuck’s sake, woman, claim your men.”
Kevin pops his head out of the office.“Are you two going to gossip, or get the place ready for guests?”
“Crap, sorry, Kevin,” I say, holding up my bag.“Just going to change real fast.”
