I nervously tuck my hair back behind my ears and lick my lips. I drop my eyes, and focus steadily on the white tablecloth for a moment. I clear my throat and gather the courage to look Mr. Hunk in the eyes. “I have to study.” I’m surprised I had the courage to say anything at all, and that my voice was mostly steady. I wish I weren’t so dismissive though. It came out a bit shorter than I would have liked. I don’t want him to think I’m some bitch. It’s not that. I’m just awkward, and I really do need to study.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Elle,” I respond quickly, and try to keep my voice steady. But it yelps slightly because of my nerves. Fuck! I sound like a damn squeaky mouse. I am a grown woman, damn it! I clear my throat again and wish my drink were here. My hair cascades down from behind my ears, and I nervously reach up to tuck it back into place and take a breath.
This is a bad idea. I'm not stupid; I need to stop this shit. He's trouble with a capital T, and I’m not in any position to handle him.
"I’m Vince. What are you studying, sweetheart?"
Vince. I like that name. It suits him well.
I consider answering him, but he just wants into my pants. And I need to study. I know this, yet I can’t help getting so wound up and hot for him. All fucking week I've been miserable. Hating my life. Hating how I let my mother pressure me into giving up everything I had going for me so I can be her rock. Just like she always fucking does. I haven't done one thing for myself in so long. Not one reckless thing ever that I can think of. Nothing I wanted to do purely out of desire.
Would it be so bad? Would it really be so wrong to just flirt a bit? Flirting. My lips press into a line. I don’t even know how to flirt. So yeah, it would be a bad idea.
Chapter 2: Vince
I’m so fucking bored. I haven’t done a damn thing all day. I sit back in my seat at the bistro and stretch my legs. I love sitting here at the booth – at my booth – just relaxing. But only when I’ve earned it. Today, I haven’t earned a damn thing. I may need to run by the shipping docks to make sure everything is set up to run smoothly, but other than that, my to-do list is short. I pull out my iPhone from my jeans and sigh. I can at least check the stocks.
Joe leans over to look at my phone and laughs. “Thought you were checking out those nude pics again, not that stupid shit.” I smirk at him, not bothering to give a verbal response, and get back to my portfolio.
First off, Leah’s pictures are no longer on my phone. And they never should’ve been there. Fucking nosy prick saw them the second they came through. I deleted them without even looking, but he hasn’t forgotten.
She knew it was only for one night. Desperation doesn’t look good on anyone, and I’m not the kind of guy who commits. I frown, thinking about how she should have more respect for herself. I told her I didn’t want a relationship. It was a quick, dirty fuck and that’s it. It was months ago. Thank fuck she finally let it go and moved on to someone else.
Secondly, my portfolio isn’t stupid shit. It’s a moneymaker. A real fucking good moneymaker that rivals what I get from the familia. But Joe’s not gonna get that. Most of these guys will never understand. They don’t want any responsibility, or have any ambition. They want easy work where they don’t have to learn a damn thing, just listen to orders. And that’s why I’m the underboss, and not any of them. If you’re not hungry for success, you’ll never get it.
A grin grows across my face as I watch the door open and see a beautiful blonde walk in like she belongs here. This is a small town, but she's not someone I've seen around town before. I let my eyes drift down her body in absolute appreciation. She’s wearing a thin, cream colored camisole and tight jean shorts. There’s a sweet innocence radiating from her. Her waist is narrow, but her hips are wide. She's got one hell of a cute little pear-shaped body. It’s a body that could take a punishing fuck. My dick hardens just thinking about gripping onto those hips.
I readjust my cock and take a look around the room. The other guys notice, but they don’t show it. It’s only us and the sweet little blonde here now. Technically this restaurant is a public place. People come here to get an inside look, but it's not like we’d actually do some shit here. We hardly even use the freezer room anymore. Hardly. There’s some shit going on in the back room right now, and that’s why I’m forced to sit here and make sure it doesn’t get out of hand. It's not as if my cousins can’t handle the job on their own. I know they can. But I have to wait here till they’re done.