Page 5 of Burn for You

I point at him. “You, get the fuck out.”

He doesn’t give it a second thought, scurrying past me and out the door, which I shut behind him.

I take a deep breath. In and out, before I slowly turn back around. May is sitting there on one of the shelves, tugging on the hem of her dress, but it barely budges. That joke of a dress is just long enough to cover her up when she’s standing, let alone when she’s sitting on a shelf in between spare rolls of toilet paper.

Her red lipstick is smudged all around her lips, and her blonde hair is ruffled up at the back, probably where he had his hands entwined in it. The thought makes me tick. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Rafael?” The way she rolls my name over her tongue grates on my nerves. So does the smile she can’t hide from her face.

“It looks like you were fucking some idiot in the supply closet of my restaurant.”

She tilts her head. “Not as dumb as you look, are you?”

I blow out a sigh, my tether about to snap. “How about this one, then—whywere you fucking some idiot in my supply closet?”

“Well, it’s simple, really. I was horny…he was horny, and sexy,” she adds with a raise of her eyebrows. “Damn, he really was, wasn’t he? Did you have to scare him off? I was so close to reaching my clim?—”

“Okay,” I cut her off. “Let's go,” I open the door behind me.

“Hold on, I can’t go out there like this. Someone might think I was in here doing something raunchy.”

“You were.”

“No shit, captain obvious. But if I go out there looking like thisandfollowing after you? No, thank you. I don’t need people thinking I was doing something raunchy withyou,of all people.”

I don’t know why I’m offended at that, and it just makes my irritation double.

She digs into her purse and pulls out a pocket mirror. She popsit open, and a smug smile creeps over her face as she takes in her appearance.

She takes her time, wiping the smudged lipstick from around her mouth and flattening the bird's nest at the back of her head, before she jumps off the shelf and struts past me and out the door without even sparing me a second glance.

I close the door with more force than necessary and follow her down the hallway, keeping my eyes above waist level as she continues out the end of the hallway into the main dining room and out the front door.

What the fuck?

I sigh, shaking my head as I turn and walk back to the kitchen. That girl grates on my nerves like no one else. I don’t know why I let her affect me so much. Something about the way that she’s like sunshine incarnate with everyone else but turns into a thundercloud when she sees me that just pisses me off.

She’s made it her life’s mission to get under my skin, and she’s fucking good at it. I had no chance in that department. So I just play the game, waiting for the day that she gets bored of it, but it doesn’t look like that day is coming any time soon.

So much for getting a moment away from the chaos.

I take one step into the kitchen only to see the broken plate still on the floor and Matteo looking over at me. “Where’s the broom?”

I siftthrough my keychain to find my house key, eager to be done with today.

I finally locate it and shove it in the keyhole to push open the large wooden door. With a sigh, I finally step foot back in my house.

Tonight was a long night. Longer than it needed to be. After catching May fucking around—literally—in the supply closet, the night just dragged on.

I had another dish break, two customers that wanted to speak to the chef, and the entire night I couldn’t stop thinking about May fucking Whitley.

The girl is like a tornado—she just blows in, tears shit up, and blows out again. God knows why she decided to do all of that in my restaurant, of all places.

I throw my keys into the bowl on the table, kick off my shoes, and sink down onto the couch, only to look up at the high ceilings above me.

My restaurant is my life, but my house is my sanctuary. I got it renovated after my Nonna passed away. The place that it was before this had too many memories soaked into the walls. Olive&Vine reminds me of her enough. I didn’t want to come home every day and feel the ghost of her following me around here as well. But it’s not just her it reminded me of—it was everyone. My entire family. This house used to be filled with laughter, with love and care. Now it’s just me and the silence.

My grief is one of those things that never goes away. It’s like a shadow that follows me. No matter how much time has passed, it’s always there. Waiting in the darkest corners of my house, waiting for the days when I get just one step too close so it can latch onto my back. Today feels like one of those days.

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