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Relief filled me after she left because I didn’t feel like a full-blown argument. I headed to my fridge and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, cracked it open, and quickly guzzled half its contents. My pickled insides instantly responded. My guts stopped twisting and even my throbbing head felt better. Then I headed to the shower and scrubbed myself mercilessly. I took a good look at my naked self afterward and winced at my reflection. There were multiple bite marks and bruises all over my chest, breasts, stomach, and the insides of my thighs. Those guys obviously had gone to town on me. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind, fearing the Gatorade would make a return appearance.
After my teeth got a good brushing, I threw on a pair of comfy shorts and a t-shirt. Climbing into my bed, I pulled the covers up to my chin and took a nap that left me feeling worse when I awakened. I dreamed of Peter, Terri, and those two men I had been with the night before. I was heartsick over my behavior, but every time I told myself I would stop, I knew it wasn’t the truth.
Two
Lisbeth had me running all over hell and half of Georgia on Monday. Her poodle, Miss Birdie, needed a shampoo and trim. Then Lisbeth had her weekly hair appointment. It was time for her to have a bit of a rinse put on, as she called it.
On a whim, Lisbeth had decided she wanted to redecorate her home. Since it was on the historic register in South Carolina, she had to have someone from the local committee come in and review the plans. She didn’t intend to make any structural changes … only painting, fabrics, new furniture and the like. She was a stickler about adhering to the rules, thus I made sure all the fabric swatches and paint samples were there, along with the other things she planned to do. The representative from the committee would arrive right after lunch. In the meantime, I made sure Lisbeth had eaten lunch and then I left to pick up Miss Birdie from the groomer’s.
Later that afternoon I went for a run around downtown, came home, showered, and got ready for my other job.
Mondays weren’t usually our busiest night, but when I arrived at work, it was surprising to hear we were solidly booked.
“We have a huge party in the private room,” our host, Katie, said. “It’s some group with the Charleston Medical University.”
“Humph. I hoped to get out of here early tonight.”
“You still might. You know how those stodgy doctors can be sometimes.”
“Yeah. But it’s the middle of summer and it might mean a graduation party or an incoming group of fellows.”
“Whatever.” I shrugged as it didn’t matter now.
My first stop was the kitchen to check out the specials for the night. Chef always had us taste everything. He wanted us to accurately describe it to our patrons. Tonight, we had the crispy flounder and fresh-off-the-boat wahoo for seafood. He also had a pork tenderloin and a shrimp over creamy grits appetizer special. I had a difficult time deciding which one I liked best.
I slipped on my apron and figured I would be the one assigned to that big group. Sure enough, I heard the floor manager say, “Alexia, you, Joe, and Sam will handle the private room. Think the three of you can handle it?”
“No problem,” I replied. I was quite sure three of us could manage just fine. There would be twenty people total. Shouldn’t be too bad.
“Are they here already?”
“Yeah, they had reservations for six o’clock.”
I laughed. “They must’ve thought we have an early bird or something.”
The three of us headed over to the private room. The guys always liked me to take the lead because I had a knack for describing food, or so they said. The truth was they liked to weasel out of doing it. I didn’t mind though because they always gave me a hand when I needed it clearing the tables and delivering entrees.
After I went over each of the appetizer and dinner specials, we took their drink orders. I’d been right about the group. They were first-year fellows coming in to do their training in trauma surgery. I smiled tightly at the first few I hit. I worked my way around the group until I got to the fifth person.
“I’ll have a Grey Goose extra dirty martini with extra olives.”
Okay, first off, that was my favorite drink. Second, his voice reminded me of butter being spread over warm bread. I raised my head and my eyes landed on sizzling smoky-gray bedroom orbs that were heavily fringed in onyx lashes. My gaze drifted south to a mouth defined by full sensuous lips. I stared as his tongue peeked out and ran slowly across his lower lip. What a tease. I swallowed and lifted my eyes north again to safer ground. Chiseled face emphasized by high cheekbones wasn’t exactly what I’d call safe either. Then I noticed his dark hair was thick and curled softly around the nape of his neck. An odd urge overcame me, and I had to grip down hard on my iPad and stylus, for I wanted to brush aside an unruly curl that fell across his forehead. This man was fucking gorgeous. Someone cleared his throat, urging me on to the next customer. By the time I finished, I was sweating profusely.
The bartender raised his brows as I practically threw my order at him and then dashed to the restroom. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, I jammed them into my armpits and dabbed up the unhealthy level of moisture that had formed there. Who was I kidding? That wasn’t moisture. That was pure flood waters gushing out of my pores. How would I continue waiting on this man without having a massive meltdown?
I tossed the towels into the trash, washed and dried my hands, and ran back to the bar to collect the tray of drinks. It was ginormous. Joe, Sam, or the rest of the runners must've been busy elsewhere because they were nowhere to be found. I hefted up the heavy tray and headed to the table.
It was hard not to stare at Smoky Eyes. As I approached, his eyes burned a hole in me. He was blatantly staring. Carefully setting the tray down, I handed out the drinks. When I reached him, he took the drink from my hand, and briefly touched me with his pinky. I shivered. I’d never gotten a pinky shiver before.
My hand was shaking as I reached for the next glass, and he saw it. The heat of his gaze continued to bore into me as I moved along the table. When I finished, Joe and Sam showed up with more drinks and then it was time to take the appetizer orders.
I reviewed the specials again, my voice shaking with nervous tension.
“Does anyone have any questions?” I asked.
“I do,” Smoky Eyes said. He grinned, and of course, a perfect set of teeth, minus a slight chip on his left front tooth, accompanied the rest of his perfect self.
I should’ve expected him to ask something. “Yes?” I countered, as I swallowed around the thickness in my throat.
