I'm arguing all of the non-construction divisions are all mine, since I add all the value. His buildings always come in over budget and after the deadline. If anything, he's cost the business.
"There's not much to say about him," I say.
"I think it's possible to talk him into a deal. That would save tens of millions in legal fees and get the headache over with."
"Whoa, is my legal counsel really advising me over what's best for me instead of what gets her firm the most money?"
"Piss off. It's Saturday night, I'm speaking to you as my brother."
"Fine, I'll go see the piece of shit, but I want all the points I need to hit him with laid out to me beforehand and drilled into me. There's a good chance I'll forget it all when I see him, because I'll be too busy punching his face in."
Skye arrived at our table as I was speaking. Her eyes widened when heard the tail end of what I'd said.
"Ribs for you, and a burger. Is everything else okay?"
"That's great. There is one thing you can do for me. Draw me a pretty picture of my companion here, will you?"
She looks at me with a furrowed brow. "Um, okay, if I get some time, it's pretty busy in here tonight."
"Thanks, Skye." I wink at her and she scurries away.
Julie and I continue to talk about handling Kelso as we eat. She's the slowest eater I've ever met and I finish way before her.
"We're going to be late for Pamela's." Our baby sister has ordered us over for weekend drinks. Pamela doesn't cook, and always insists we eat before we get there, yet freaks if we're even a second late.
Julie shrugs and stuffs more fries in her mouth.
"I'll go pay," I say. Julie has a mouthful of fries, and nods at me.
I make my way to the wait station, where I find Skye drawing on her notepad.
"We're late for something, I've gotta pay now."
"Leaving so soon?"
"You sound disappointed."
"Maybe I am," Skye says, with a genuine smile, not that fake smile she wore the first time I came in here.
"In that case, I'm pissed I have to leave."
"Sure I can't interest you in dessert?"
"You can interest me in all sorts of things, but right now I have to go." I say. I can't help myself, and I rake my eyes down and back up her perfect body. When I reach her eyes again, I capture her gaze.
"You'll have to come back next week," she says, chewing her bottom lip.
"Next time I'll definitely stay for dessert."
"We have several on the menu, you could stay long enough to sample them all."
"The dessert I want isn't on the menu."
Skye's cheeks redden, and she turns away from me.
"Here you go." She prints off our bill and hands it to me.
"How's the picture coming?" I pull out a few rolled up bills and hand them to her.
"Well, I didn't get much sense of who your date is, so I drew you instead."
"Let me see." I snatch her pad, intrigued by how she perceives me.
"It's not finished yet," she says, grabbing for the pad.
I hold it out of her reach and take a look. I'm so ripped in her picture that I look like a superhero. There're no horns on my head, and no fire coming from my mouth.
Instead, I'm standing with my arms crossed, my arms covered in ink and a hamburger in a thought bubble over my head.
"That's definitely not what I'm thinking about," I say.
"Then what are you thinking about?" she asks, her eyes pleading. I reach out and stroke the backs of my fingers down her cheek. Skye maintains my gaze, her breathing quick.
"It's hard to put into words," I say. Skye swallows.
"Then show me," she says, her voice barely audible.
I reach out, cup the back of her head and press my mouth against hers. My cock stiffens at the softness of her lips. I pull away, leaving my hand cupping her head and holding her eyes with mine.
As soon as her mouth is free of me, she says, "Your date is right over there."
"She's not my date, she's my sister."
"I'm at work, I'll get in … " I silence her by planting my mouth back on hers. She moans and parts her lips, allowing my tongue to dart into her.
I brush my hand down the length of her tight t-shirt. When I get to the fine ass I've been watching all night, I rub my hand over it. My cock aches for more.
"Skye! In the staff room. You! Stop harassing my employees or I'll call the cops," a man barks.
She pushes away and I relax my hold on her. "Sorry, Kevin," she says.
The man, I assume he's her boss, stays where he is, glaring at us. I tighten my hold on her, ready to go back in for more, but she places her hands on my chest and it stops me.
"I have to go, I need this job."
"Sure." I can't resist myself, I give her one more quick kiss on her lips then release her.
Gasping, she says, "Is that my tip?"
I laugh and say, "No, this is your tip: Stop waiting tables and become an artist."
Before she can respond, Julie appears and glares at me.
"Later," I say, and we leave the restaurant.
Chapter Five
The Offer (Skye)
I can barely concentrate on driving. My mind keeps flipping between that guy kissing me, and Kevin sending me home straight after. My first real kiss, and holy shit was it amazing. But it's cost me big money in tips since the restaurant was so busy.
Kevin said that was my last chance. I can't afford to be out on my ass. But if that man comes in again and tries to kiss me, there's no way I'll stop him. No matter how much I need the money from the restaurant. His kiss just felt too damn good.
When I'm getting ready for bed, I realize the money the hot guy gave me to cover his check is still in my pocket. I pull it out to put with my apron: I'll bring it in with me on Thursday.
I unfold the bills. Three hundreds. The bills lay across my hand and I stare at them. Did he mean to give me three twenties? I don't think so. He doesn't strike me as the sort of man who ever makes mistakes.
Is this supposed to be some sort of ploy to get my attention? Can he even afford to do something like this? I stand, debating what to do. There's one person who really deserves this money.
Instead of putting the money with my apron to take into work, I open my top drawer and place it in my stash of emergency money. Money that, until tonight, consisted of thirty bucks.
After I see the guy again, I'll try to give him the money back. If he refuses, I'll think up a reason to convince Ava to accept the money from me.
In bed, I can't help myself. I slide my hand between my legs, remembering the minutiae of the kiss. His smell, his taste, the strength of his arms. And, of course, I can't ignore what was digging into my hip - what an incredible feeling.
Why didn't I write my phone number on my drawing? How stupid am I? All I did was sign it with my standard art signature: Skye. No last name; nothing. I wonder if he'll come in again after the way Kevin acted.
Almost instantly, an orgasm washes over me. The memory of the kiss is so fresh, I can't bring myself to take my hand away. I fall asleep with it between my legs.
At some point in the middle of the night, I half wake up, realize I've been dreaming about that kiss, and the man doing the kissing, and that my hand has been moving as if possessed. Dripping wet and excited all over by the dream, I crash into another huge orgasm.
Please let him come back next Saturday.
In the morning, I hide from Ava in my studio. I have too many thoughts to sort out. After being sent home and given a final warning, Kevin's not going to give me any extra shifts; there's no point in asking.
Ava needs to remortgage her house, and my freeloading is the reason. I need to think up a reason for her to take that money, but I haven't come up with anything yet. And then there's all those possible commissions from the artist website...
I sit on the floor beside my laptop and call up the website. A smile springs across my face when a message icon appears in the corner. Someone probably wants me to paint their dog, but my heart leaps in excitement anyway.
My eyes pop when I see it's not from any of the jobs I replied to. It's a new user that only joined last week. I try to calm myself as I read the message.
I am looking for someone to commission for several works to be hung in the new house I'm building. Am impressed by your work. Reply for more details. Kelso Wilson.
Holy shit. This might be my solution. I type a reply as fast as my fingers will move and include my phone number.
Deep inside, I fantasize that Kelso Wilson is the man from the restaurant. I know it's silly and immature, but maybe he's hunted me down somehow.
Though there's no way he could find me on this website, artists are told not to publicize their names so people can't contact the artists without using the website and paying its fee. I was too scared of being banned so left mine off, like most other artists on the site.
I try to put the message out of my mind while I get back to work on the project of rich items out of place in the world. But the whole time my mind is whirring with possibilities. This job could solve all my money worries. If it turns out to be him then all my dreams have come true.