Page 18 of Unloaded
If I say it enough it’ll eventually sink in, right? I grit my teeth willing myself to believe it. My head and my heart won’t get on the same fucking page for some damn reason. I’ve never had an issue like this before. Why is she so different?
I’d had a couple girlfriends when I’d been younger, but I’d known I was going into service so I never allowed myself toget attached. Hell, I’ve only kissed Rachel once, but I can’t stop thinking about her, wanting her, fantasizing about her.
Maybe I should give in to the desire we both feel and just fuck her. Get her out of my system once and for all. I’ve never had a problem letting a woman go after a night of good sex. I’ve denied us both what we want. Perhaps that’s why she’s become an obsession.
That’s not true, and you know it,the annoying know-it-all voice in my head argues.
I shake my head again, to clear all thoughts of Rachel and I engaged in sex. At the same time, my heart is wanting to draw hearts and rainbows over a large house with a white picket fence around a large backyard where our dark-haired kids are running amuck chasing a puppy.Yeah, I know. I have it bad and a vivid imagination.
While crossing the dining area, I see Marley, Shelby, and Rachel following Mrs. Cruise to the table where she’s been holding court with all her socialite friends. The ladies seated at the table turn their attention to the women. Mrs. Cruise throws an arm around Marley’s shoulders.
I slow my pace and linger near the buffet which is only a few feet away from the women. The finger foods look delicious, and I need a reason to be hanging around. I shouldn’t eaves drop on the women’s conversation, but I’ve witnessed Mrs. Cruise in action on more than one occasion. As head of security for this event, I feel it’s my duty to protect the women, even from our client.
There are a variety of bite sized sandwiches lined up on silver trays. Rachel makes the best chicken salad sandwiches. Picking up a plate, I place several of them on it along with a few crackers and various cheeses. The first bite has flavors bursting on my tongue, and I stifle a groan of satisfaction while listening in on the women nearby.
“Ladies, this is Marley Robertson!” Mrs. Cruise coos in her sickly-sweet voice. “She’s the owner ofBaby Girl’s Catering, and the one who made this all possible.” She waves her hand gesturing at the room. The women at her table begin murmuring hellos.
“I’m co-owner,” Marley corrects, giving Mrs. Cruise a quick disapproving glance. She smiles at the group graciously. “None of this would be possible without the whole team. This is Shelby Robertson, my sister-in-law.” Marley nudges Shelby forward at bit. “She’s the financial genius behind this endeavor, and she’s fabulous in the kitchen, too.”
“We can all see that,” Mrs. Cruise interjects wrinkling her nose while side-eyeing Shelby. Shelby’s bright countenance dims, and her face flushes. Yet she maintains her smile.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Shelby greets them. “I hope you’re all enjoying the meal.” Several women nod and murmur compliments.
“And this is Rachel Miller. She’s our right-hand woman,” Marley says, wrapping an arm around Rachel’s waist and tugging her closer to the group. “We couldn’t do any of this without her. She’s been invaluable in gettingBaby Girl’sup and running.”
Hearing Marley brag on Rachel makes me smile on her behalf. Rachel is most certainly a hard worker, and she’s had excellent ideas that have helped makeBaby Girl’sa success. Taking a glance in their direction, I notice Rachel’s face is flushed with embarrassment. She doesn’t like having the attention on her. While I’m contemplating a way to rescue her, Cindy, one of the staff, comes rushing out of the kitchen.
“Rachel! Your phone is ringing incessantly,” Cindy says breathless as she rushes up to the women. “It’s Nicky. It must be important. The boys never bother you at work.” Rachel’s facepales so much that I fear she’s going to faint. I take a step toward her.
“Go on Rachel see what he needs,” Marley says, urging Rachel in the kitchen’s direction. “Shelby and I will handle things out here.”
Rachel snatches the phone from Cindy’s hand and hurries toward the kitchen. I decide to follow her and make sure the boys are okay. I walk by the women, but Mrs. Cruise grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop.
“Rosco, darling!” I turn to her, gritting my teeth at the feel of her cold, leathery hand on my arm. A full body shiver runs over me in disgust. “I need to show you off! Ladies, meet Rosco Robertson. He is head of security. Isn’t he delicious?”
She rubs up on me like a cat in heat. The other women are eyeing me like I’m a juicy steak, and they haven’t eaten in days. I mumble greetings, not wanting to be rude.
My concern for Rachel is the only thing I can think about. The need to make sure she’s all right is overwhelming. If one of the boys has gotten hurt, she’ll need someone to drive her. I don’t want her driving when she’s upset.
“Ladies if you will excuse me,” I say while detaching myself from Mrs. Cruise. “I need to check on something in the kitchen. Enjoy the rest of your day.” I make eye contact with Marley who gives a nearly imperceptible nod of her head. She knows I’m going to check on Rachel, and she approves. If it weren’t for the paying client and potential other clients, she would be the one going to see if Rachel needed help with anything.
Carefully I enter the swinging door to the kitchen. Cindy is buttering a tray of rolls that must be fresh from the oven. The whole kitchen smells of yeasty bread baking. “Where’s Rachel?” I demand, none too gently.
“Lord, have mercy!” Cindy exclaims. Her hand coming up to her chest. “You scared the Bejesus out of me!”
“Sorry,” I murmur. “Rachel?” Cindy points to the back door while staring at me wide-eyed. I nod, turn, and head out the back door. Rachel is leaning against the brick wall down near the corner of the building. Her phone to her ear.
“Nicky!” Rachel exclaims. “Stop that! You boys are going to have to calm down and work this out yourselves. I still have a few hours of work left to do. I can’t come home and referee every argument you guys get into.
“You’re probably hungry. You know how cranky you guys get when you’re hangry. Why don’t you fix you both of you something to eat. There are leftovers in the fridge. I know you know how to use the microwave.” She pauses to hear the reply.
Her head tilts back to rest against the brick wall. Her eyes on the bright blue sky above us. She hasn’t noticed me, yet, which is good, because I can’t take my eyes off her. I want to stare at her all day, just like any other time I’m around her.
My eyes roam over her face and frown. She looks tried, more so than usual. There are dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders are tense. She seems to be uptight all the time, and it’s taking a toll on her.
She shakes her head, catching my attention, even though the boys can’t see her through the phone. “Give Ricky the phone. Let me talk to him.” Another pause. “I’m not going to lecture you, but you guys are almost eighteen years old. I shouldn’t be having to break up fights between you over a stupid video game!”
I can’t keep from grinning as I listen to her arguing with the boys. I’ve played video games with them before. Both are highly intelligent and very competitive, especially Ricky. He thrives on being the best. I’ve seen how calculating and methodical he can be not only when he is playing a game, but in his workouts and when helping us at the restaurant or a catering event.
