Fool for Love (Believe #2) (15 page)

“I don’t know what I want to hear about more, the job or the crush.” He sighs and then holds up his hand dramatically. “Oh, wait, maybe I do: the meat first. Ready? Go.”

I laugh and then proceed to tell him about everything that’s happened since I saw him a couple of days ago.

“Oooh. He has a dog?” He claps his hands and sighs dreamily. “I want a dog. No, wait, I want a real man who owns a dog. How romantic.”

“Safiro!” I nudge my shoulder against his. “Yes, the dog’s cute, but please focus here.”

“Right, right. I need food before I tell you to jump this guy and get it over with. Oops! Did I just say that?” He moves his eyebrows up and down at me, and I gasp.

“Oh, my gosh! Yes, you did. In front of everyone else here,” I whisper while glancing at the other guests around us.

“Puh-lease, girl. They don’t mind.” Nevertheless, his voice goes down a notch. “Listen, I really do need some fuel, so let’s order, and while we wait, you tell me about the job.”

A waitress comes over to our table, and I scan the menu in front of me.

Smiling at her, I order a club sandwich, and Safiro’s choice is a sub with chicken and fries.

Wrinkling his nose, he sighs at me.

“I demand that you order some fries as well,” he tells me. Without giving me time to answer, he looks up at the waitress.

“My girl here wants fries, too. And please bring us some cokes as well.”

The waitress puts her pen and paper away and reaches for our menus.

“Sure thing. I’ll bring some ketchup, too.”

“Oh, and some mayo, too, please,” I interject, gaining a small, puzzled smile from her.

“Sure.”

After she walks away, I give Safiro my best shot at The Look: narrowed eyes, mouth turned downward, as I cross my arms. He returns it, and I curse under my breath. He’s so much better at it than me.

“Don’t give me that, Suzy,” he says. “You need more meat on your bones, and you know it.”

I sigh and nod, because he’s right.

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t seem to have much appetite lately.”

“Well, a big, hunky guy with a massive dick will help,” he teases me. I just chuckle and shake my head.

“Speaking of which, how’s Dex?” I bat my eyes at him, and he smiles widely at me.

“Aaaaah, he’s marvellous, darling. I’m smitten, and I’m not afraid to admit it.”

I place my hand over his and squeeze it.

“That makes me happy, honey. I can’t wait to meet him.”

He blushes and looks down, a bit shy for once.

“It might be a while before you get the chance, but we’ll see how it goes.”

The waitress comes back with our drinks, and we each take a sip.

“Now, tell me about the job,” Safiro urges me as he places his arm around me, his body leaning towards mine.

Unease settles within me again.

“Okay. It’s at this club called
The Vault
.” His eyes widen, and I scrutinise his face. “Have you heard of it?”

“Girl, indeed I have. But only on the down-low. I hear it’s for…errm…people who like kinky shit. Is that true?” he whispers, eyes wide.

I shrug. “The owner, Rowan Mitchell, did give me more details, but my contract stipulates that I can’t give any information to the outside.” I make quotation marks in the air and snort. “I don’t know what the big deal is. We live in a modern world.”

Safiro leans closer to me. “Then why are you frowning? Come on, out with it.”

I hesitate and bite my lip, but I have to tell someone about my misgivings, and who better than Safiro?

I lean my head closer to his and glance quickly around me; no one seems to be eavesdropping, though.

“Okay, so the job is tending the bar, and I’ll never be alone behind it. It sounded as if Rowan was very protective of his female staff, and there’ll be a bouncer assigned to us whenever we’re on a shift. That’s not why I’m worried.”

“Then what is?” he asks before he takes another sip of his drink.

“First of all, I get the impression that there’s a lot of dealing with drugs, and I don’t feel comfortable with that. Secondly, the outfit we have to wear? That’s a bit…off-putting, I guess.”

When I don’t tell him more right away, he rolls his eyes at me, and I take a large gulp of my drink.

“Black corset, silver stilettos, and fishnet stockings,” I tell him. His mouth bobs open and closed, making him look like a fish out of water.

“Wow,” he finally says and leans back in his seat, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Hang on. Actually, that’s not bad, but a bit unusual for a bartending job.”

“You know I’m not a prude, Safiro, far from it. But it just rubs me the wrong way a bit to be put on display like that.” I shrug.

“You have some serious issues with your body, hon,” Safiro gripes. “How many times do I have to tell you this? You’re gorgeous!”

I open my mouth to answer, but am interrupted when the waitress returns to our table once more, this time with our food.

“Enjoy,” she says as she walks away. We dig in, famished.

“How much is the pay?” Safiro asks me between bites. When I tell him the amount, he hoots loudly.

“Girl, you’ve hit the jackpot!” he whisper-shouts as I shush him.

I chuckle. “I know, it’s a whole lot more than I hoped for. Plus, I get two weekly days off, though not the weekends, obviously, so there’s that to consider as well.”

“Please tell me you’ll take it, hon.” He looks like a puppy dog right now as he tilts his head and bats his eyelashes at me.

“Oh, I already have. I know I’m lucky to find employment given the fact that I’ll be leaving New York in a few months.” I take a fry and dip it in mayo while Safiro wrinkles his nose at me.

I chuckle. “What? We do this in Denmark all the time.”

“Ugh. It’s a disgusting habit.” He shudders and takes a bite of his sub. Dabbing his lips with a napkin, he holds up a hand and covers his mouth with the other. “Anyway, let’s not talk about you leaving, please. I’m determined to keep you here with me forever.”

I blow him a kiss. “As wonderful as that sounds, I have to go home. You know that.”

He kisses my cheek. “Not if I can help it. Now, eat up. And then I’ll tell you why I think you should violate Garrett sexually, asap.”

Laughing like a maniac, I shake my head, and we resume eating. For a while, I’m able to forget my worries, and I settle in to listen to Safiro’s fantastic dating advice.

After having said goodbye to Safiro, I head to my favourite spot: Central Park. It seems like such a cliché, or a scene from a chick-flick, but I love to come here, find a bench, and read or merely people watch for a while. Safiro’s opinion about Garrett and how I should just act on my attraction to him didn’t exactly make me change my mind about trying to keep my distance, but he did manage to make me laugh, and I’m grateful for that.

The anonymity that New York provides me with is comforting somehow. No one knows me or where I’m from. I can pretend to be anyone I want to be. A French tourist, perhaps – well, if my accent wasn’t so horrible, that is; or a famous film star from Sweden. Anyone or anything to avoid the people who seem hell-bent on picking up conversations with strangers. I don’t come here at night, of course. That would be too foolish of me.

But here, there are no frozen stares or upturned noses.

No raised voices, or even an occasional slap on the cheek.

No crying filled with heartache because I have chosen a lifestyle that is
‘abnormal’
.

How strange that we live in a modern world, yet parts of it, especially my home, consider me a deviant. But New York doesn’t, and as I sit here, pondering where I go from here, I wonder if I should just remain in this city. If I should try to apply for a proper work visa, and try to make a living as an interior designer. It will probably take me years to get to that point, though, and I’m an impatient person in some ways. I don’t mind working hard towards my dreams, but for one thing, New York isn’t cheap; and for another, it’s all about connections here – who you know. And apart from Morgan and Safiro, I don’t really know anyone who could help me get started.

Plus, there’s Emma and Daniel to consider as well. I don’t think I can bear to be away from Emma, in particular, for months at a time. And then there is the fact that I’d be away from my other friends in Denmark, as well as the importance of finding my own apartment, get a proper job, and – oh, hell.

Groaning, I slouch in my seat and the amount of work ahead of me seems too overwhelming right now. Going home might be the easiest choice for me, after all. But the people that I once called my family make me sick – they encompass everything I loathe, and I only hope that I have the strength to keep away from them if or when I return home.

A change is needed, but what am I to do if I can’t find the courage to grasp onto my chance once I meet it? As usual, I don’t have the answer. If Fate were kind, she’d have given it to me a long time ago.

But Fate is not known for being kind or fair. She is fickle, harsh, even cruel sometimes. I want to keep hoping for my happily-ever-after to find me, but I am losing my faith.

Maybe there isn’t such a thing as true love.

Maybe there is only darkness instead of light in this world.

No, that can’t be true. Emma fought her way out of the darkness that was slowly suffocating her. She found Daniel. She found love.

So can I.

I noticed that
Mama Rosa’s
was quiet tonight as soon as I arrived earlier, and it concerns me slightly. My worries were sort of put to rest when I met my staff, though; and while I thought that my absence the past couple of months wouldn’t matter to most of my customers, it would appear that I was wrong. While I appreciate that my patrons want me to leave my kitchen and tell me about where I’ve been – something I won’t do – I don’t have time to chit chat when my staff needs me to take direction again now that I’m back.

My sous chef, Carlos, has been doing a pretty decent job while I was in rehab, but he isn’t cut out for the business side of things, and I need to get my head back in the game and get to the bottom of what’s been going on while I was away.

When I arrived this evening, I had a meeting with the staff, trying to catch up on things. I can’t have them think that I’m the same mess I was before I left for rehab; I have to convince them that I’m done with that part of my life, that I actually mean it this time, before I lose them to a competitor.

Carlos stays back after I dismiss everyone to go set up their stations, and it feels great to catch up with my old friend for the first couple of minutes. Until I start opening up to him.

“There’s a young woman living with me,” I blurt. He blinks a few times.

Guess he never saw that one coming.

He’s standing across from my desk, and I grimace and turn the chair this way and that, anxious. “Remember Colin placed an ad about my place when I went to San Francisco?” He nods. “I don’t know how I could forget about my home being rented out to someone,” I grumble.

“Uh, yeah, that does seem weird. I wonder how that’s going to work out,” he muses, smirking at me.

This guy knows me too well.

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen,” I bite, clenching my fists. The tension coursing through my veins freezes me to the spot, and even Carlos must be sensing it if the gleam in his eyes is anything to go by. The bastard has the audacity to laugh at me like a loon.