Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Cameron’s eyes went wide and I doubted Michael had gotten that firm with him before. But he nodded, letting go of me and scurrying out of the kitchen like his ass was on fire.
That was extremely hot. I couldn’t help but be surprised at the anger in Michael’s voice, though, as pleased as I was that he seemed to be jealous. Earlier he said that it was a mistake for us to kiss and then he all but ran. Could he be changing his mind so quickly?
I hoped so. I turned away to hide my smile. If he was jealous, then our little make-out session had more of an effect on him than he wanted to admit.
Which meant I could take the calculated risk of making another move.
Michael nodded at me gruffly, and then went back to his office. I focused on cooking my heart out. We had the new menu tonight and I had to make sure that everything was perfect, not a single mistake, so that people would be open to the changes and accept the new vibe of the restaurant.
The whole time, though, my mind kept trying to wander back to Michael. Back to the idea of making a move.
Was I really bold enough to do it? Could I?
Back in high school, I’d tried a few things to get Michael’s attention behind Brooke’s back. I had thought, at the time, that I was being very sexy and clever and sophisticated. Of course looking back I now knew that I had been a silly teenager and probably either horribly obvious or just coming across as weird. If Michael had noticed at all. He’d been so distracted by Virginia leaving him, and the fate of the restaurant, I wasn’t sure that he would’ve noticed if a parade of elephants had come through his house.
But Lord, that hadn’t stopped me from trying. I’d worn my skimpiest outfits, outfits I had to change into once I got to Brooke’s or at school, away from my parents who would’ve killed me for dressing that way. There was nothing wrong with how I dressed, it was just far too mature for a seventeen-year-old.
That wasn’t all, though. I was constantly dropping things and bending over, my ass in the air, to get his attention. I’d purposefully spill things like caramel sauce on my chest while Michael taught me how to make dessert. Once, at the Christmas party my parents had hosted, I’d mimed doing a blow job on a candy cane for a full half an hour, hoping that Michael would notice.
He had never seemed to even realize what was going on. I never got anywhere.
Looking back, I was glad that I didn’t. I had been a teenager, unequipped to truly handle helping Michael through his heartbreak. I had also been underage and if my parents, if anyone, had found out… there would’ve been hell to pay.
But now, things had changed. Michael was into me. He’d kissed me this morning like he’d die if he didn’t get his mouth onto mine and he’d gone right for the kill, nearly driving me right over the cliff into orgasm before he pulled back. I was older, wiser, more mature. I knew what I was getting into and I was ready.
I couldn’t let too much time go by in between our kiss and my next move. I had to press my advantage tonight.
The meal service all went well. Everyone seemed to be satisfied and the servers reported good tips. I could hardly contain myself. I wanted to jump up and down and punch the air in victory. My new menu seemed to be a success!
Now it was time for phase two of my professional plan.
Switching up the menu without telling anyone was what was known as a ‘soft opening’. A ‘hard opening’ was when a business made a big deal about opening a new store or making another big change in their service. A soft opening was where the business simply opened, or made that big change, and took a few days before announcing it.
I hadn’t wanted to announce our new menu before I actually tried it out on the customers. But now that I had proof that people liked it, we could focus on getting the word out properly. Lure in some food critics, place some strategic advertisements… all of it. We needed new bodies in the door and we couldn’t rely solely on word of mouth.
I took care of the close down, made sure all the staff left, and then went to Michael’s office.
He seemed to be looking at the numbers for the night on his computer. “It went well,” I told him, entering. “I knew it would.”
Michael looked away from the computer and leaned back in his office chair, his legs splayed. It drew his jeans tight over his crotch, and I had to struggle not to stare as lust began to filter into my brain, trickling down my body, warming me up.