City Vibes - Complete Series (BWWM Interracial Billionaire Romance) (11 page)

Chapter 23

Reese sat against the back shelf of the walk-in freezer ignoring the cold just so that she could get away from the Friday night rush. She had gone four days without having a conversation with Daniel and even then, it was just about whether or not they should order pizza. He was unresponsive and silent for much of the rest of the time and it was starting to get to her.

Her own home felt like the inside of a Study Hall session led by a teacher that hated her. And even though she regretted letting Jack kiss her, in the back of her mind, a tiny part of her hoped that this whole thing might bring them closer together.

She thought about his words: “Am I losing you?” She thought about how she had hastily denied that. But now, looking back on everything and constantly having to painfully ignore the texts and facebook messages she constantly received from Jack, she realized that that first answer had not been completely true. For, in all honesty, Reese didn't know how she felt. It was like a constant struggle with Daniel over the same thing; over his consistent inability to compromise in any way and it hurt her.

It made her believe that she wasn't worth the consideration. But Jack, well, Jack had a girlfriend on tour and still pursued her, so that didn't necessarily make him better. In fact, his only redeeming quality was the fact that he made her feel justified in her unhappiness with Daniel.

She sucked in a quick breath at the unmistakable click of the door being opened. She tensed, wrapping her arms even tighter around her knees, praying that it wasn't Jack on the other side of that threshold.

“Reese, I really can't keep taking all of your tables. The tips are shit and I'm real tired.”

Reese released a sigh of relief at the sight of Maria, who stood just inside of the doorway, her cheeks flushed.

Reese nodded and stood up, wincing at the sensation of the unbearably hot air that hit her in the face on her way out of the freezer. She frowned at the sounds of people yelling orders at the cooks, the cooks yelling at each other and Frank yelling at every body. A permanent haze had settled over the kitchen, no doubt caused by the previous five hours straight of cooking.

“Oh, and there's a man sitting in your section that wants to see you.” Maria added as they reached the end of the back hallway.

Her heart skipped a beat as she immediately bounded over to her section, but stopped at the sight of Jack sitting in one of her booths, his legs crossed and extended out under the table, a menu covering his face.

“Why are you here?” She snapped.

Jack seemed completely unphased by her apparent attitude. He slowly closed his menu, then looked up at her with a gaze and a smirk that sent a chill through her body. She gulped and blinked twice, trying desperately to silence that little part of her that was happy to see him.

He shrugged. “Well, you haven't been answering my calls, or my texts, or my messages, so I figured I would have to stalk you to give this to you.” He gestured at a white envelope she hadn't noticed until then.

“What is it?”

Then, to her surprise, he stood up and slipped on his jacket. “Just open it.” He leaned into her , placing a suggestive hand on her arm. “You can thank me later.”

Reese opened her mouth to refuse, but by the time the words had been packaged in her head and were ready to come out, he had already walked away. Unable to fight her curiosity, Reese snatched the envelope off of the table and ripped it open. In the next second, she found herself holding a check for five hundred thousand dollars addressed to her and a note that read: “So you can cure cancer and stuff.”

Her research.

Reese's knees went weak and her heart beat so fast, she felt physical pain in her chest. Her jaw hung open and her mouth ran dry as she stared at what was about to make her career. Then, without thinking anything of it, she raced to the hostess stand and snatched up the phone, already formulating what she was going to say in her head. This was exactly what she needed to break out of this rut.

“Hello?”

“Daniel?” She gasped, finding it difficult to hear herself over her pounding pulse.

“Is there something wrong?” His voice was spiked with concern.

“No, no.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“I'm running the experiment! I have the money now!” She practically screeched.

“Oh my God, Reese, that's wonderful.” Even though his voice sounded fatigue, there was genuine excitement. “Did you get a grant.”

“No, Jack gave it to me!” It wasn't until she said those words out loud, that she realized telling him was a horrible idea.

“You're taking money from
Jack
?” 

“... Yes?” Reese replied with a shaking voice.

“Reese, why would you do that? Why didn't you ask me? I could have paid for it before I lost my job.”

“Daniel, I have been trying to get this thing going for six months. I talk about it every day to you. It's not like you didn't know. And, besides, I didn't ask Jack either. He just gave it to me.”

“He's trying to bribe you into an affair!” Daniel shot.

Reese's eyes stung as she realized what was about to happen. “So, you don't want me to take it?” She asked breathlessly.

“I will not let him buy you away from me.”

“But he's not-”

“I've known him nine years. He's the kind of sleazy fuck who would do that.”

“Daniel-”

“If you take that money, don't come home.”

There was a click as he hung up the phone. Reese, forgetting her tables, forgetting her job, walked right out of the front door of Per Se. With her back against the window, she sunk down to the cold, concrete ground, hot tears streaming down her face.

Chapter 24

Reese sat on the ground, ignoring the way the cold, damp concrete pressed against her thin dress pants. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on them. Her arms trembling from the rain that battered her back and head. She blinked her dry eyes and stared out ahead of her at the almost barren, midtown street struggling to find something to fixate her eyes on just to distract her from her own empty head. Yet, beyond the odd middle-aged woman, the over-privileged teenagers stomping around and the businessman rushing home to his family, or his lover, she could find nothing. She scoffed at herself, shoving her head in between her knees, hoping that would protect her from the latest bout of nerves that threatened to render her even more helpless than she already was.

“Mmmmm.....” she hummed to herself, anything to preserve the moment of relative calm happening in her head. Yet it didn't work. She hummed again and again and again until her hums had turned into full blown sobs.  She sat there, doubled over, heaving out every last tear in her body as she contemplated how close and yet, how far away she was from the ultimate goal of her study. She wept, mourning the beginning and the end of one of two things; the love of her life, or her future. Questions assaulted her mind; questions she couldn't possibly have answers for; especially now.

With one particularly dramatic sigh, she considered the fact that she was finally able to conduct her study. In fact, she was so close to it, she could taste it. A smile dared to tug at the edge of her lips as she considered being able to walk into the office Monday morning with the check in her hand. She could confront her supervisor, complaining that Jack believed in her; someone believed in her. She would tell her that if... when this study blew up, when it made the cover of Time; when she reached fifty major citations within less than a year, that she would not hesitate to be honest with the world about the fact that her own supervisor didn't believe in her at all.

She could see herself saying all of these things with such vibrancy that they might as well have already slipped from her lips and out into the air in front of her. Yet, they remained in her mind along with the other side of this: the heart-wrenching possibility-no- probability, that she was losing the only man she ever really loved. Guilt tugged at the most sensitive corners, the most vulnerable areas of her mind at the realization that if she took this money, she would, no doubt, be betraying Daniel in a way. She had already kissed another man. Now, she was going to be as horrible as to take money from that man.

Yet, with this guilt, came resentment. Who was Daniel to question Jack's motives and how could he be so cynical to begin with? Was it so hard for him to believe that Jack was just donating to a cause that he believed in? What could have possibly been wrong with that? Was Daniel so jealous that he couldn't handle the idea of another man believing in her? Reese couldn't believe that the man that she loved, the man that was supposed to build her up, was tearing her down because of his own inclinations. Anger as hot and unbearable; as suffocating and impossible as New York in July, sucked her into its molasses-like pit. She reached with her arms, her fingers curling like claws as she struggled to grasp; to clutch anything that could drag her out of that pit. But from the bottom of all of this, with the weight of the world on her shoulders, it seemed completely and utterly impossible.

Chapter 25

Reese heard the sound of the restaurant door opening. It came to her as if through a pool of water. She opened her eyes to find herself staring at a pair of gripped, steal-toe shoes. She followed the curve of the shoe with her hands, scanning the thin legs, the soiled white shirt, the frizzy hair tumbling down each shoulder, and, finally, the wary face of Maria, who looked like she had just been through a culinary-charged battle, in which she had literally sweat blood and tears. It then occurred to Reese that since she had walked out, on her shift, someone would have had to take over her shift. Since the human who would add three tables to their eight would have to be a special human being with exceptional skill to go with their gargantuan reserve of compassion; and since Maria was the only one who fit all of those criteria, it necessarily followed that her massive lapse in emotional capacity had landed Maria with the worst, yet most lucrative shift of her life. 

The remorse of this, coupled with the realization that she had probably just thrown away at least a hundred dollars and possibly her job as well added a new layer of negative feelings to what was now becoming a full cocktail.

“Reese.” Maria sighed.

She met Maria's sharp eyes with her sad and tired ones, “Yes?” It was all she could manage to say.

Maria scoffed. “Is that all the fuck you have to say?” She snapped.

Reese flinched. “God, Maria. I'm sorry.” She mumbled, before resting her head back on her knees.

Maria moaned, then, out of nowhere, Reese looked up to find Maria's hand jutted out towards her.

She furrowed her brow at this. “What are you-” She started, confused that Maria would be so kind to her after she had just pulled the worst move a waitress could possibly pull.

Maria just rolled her eyes. “Oh God, Reese, are we gonna do this? Are we really gonna do this?” She demanded.

Reese's lips stretched into a tight, straight line. She understood where Maria was coming from and now that she thought of it, the last thing she wanted to do was call Maria out on her uncharacteristic kindness. Yet, that set aside, when she thought of herself standing up and walking, when she thought about moving from this one place, where nothing seemed to happen and she was allowed to stew in her grief, she just could not bring herself to take Maria's hand. “I can't.”

In the pause that followed, Maria knelt down next to her. “Ugh.” She muttered. “This is disgusting. There should be a best friend appreciation day for things like this.”

Reese found herself cracking a half-genuine smile in spite of herself. “Come on, Maria. You know we're not best friends.” She replied.

Maria's hand flew to her heart as she feigned insult. “I can't believe you just said that.”

Reese just rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

Maria cocked her head to one side. “You're right, but handling all of your tables... and under you account too, for the entire night... and coming out here to check on you when the Lord knows I would much rather finish my cut-work so that I can go home, definitely makes me that.”

Reese's jaw hung stupidly open. “You kept my tables under my name?” She asked, her mind struggling to wrap its head around a kind of kindness like that.

Maria just nodded. “Yes and now will you please do me a favor and come inside so that I can finish my work and go home?”

Reese bit her lip and, with a Herculean effort, wrapped her fingers around Maria's hand. Maria then pulled her up, yanking her away from the ground. Reese winced at the sensation of her butt screaming for the comfort and familiarity of the cold asphalt. She shook her left leg to dispel the pins-and-needles sensation dominating her muscles, then did the same with her right. By the time she had done all of this, she looked up to find that Maria had already reached the door of the restaurant and was holding the door open, her frown telling Reese that she needed to hurry up. Reese sighed, ignoring the ache in her legs and following her back into the restaurant.

Once inside, she was pleased to find that Frank was not sitting in his usual place at the hostess stand, and thus, she would be able to avoid him that much easier. She stopped in front of the door, breathing in the warm air, stained with the aroma of the food the kitchen worked rapidly to get rid of as well as the soils of napkins and table cloths. Ripe wine hung in the air, the smell climbing its way up her nose and settling in her head. She felt exposed in this environment, as if these sights and smells, these familiarities played on her vulnerabilities. Outside, in the cool rain, she could pretend as if none of this had ever happened, she could pretend that all that grief that welled up inside of her; that grief that made it impossible for her to think straight, let alone, function as a human being, belonged to a life that was not her own. But here, in this place she had known so well; in this place where it had all begin, it was that much harder to pretend.

“Okay, well will you at least help me with our cut work?” Maria demanded in her shrill voice.

In fact, she had been trying to get Reese's attention for quite some time now and Reese hadn't even noticed. When she looked up, she found her standing in the center of the threshold between the floor and the back hallway that led to the kitchen and the backroom. Reese found herself nodding at this, and before she could register making any decisions, she was already following her into the kitchen. “Where is everybody?” She asked once she got into the kitchen and found that only one cook remained.

Maria glanced back at her without even slowing down. “Do you even realize what time it is?” She asked.

Reese shook her head.

Maria scoffed. “It's almost two in the morning, Reese. You've kept me here until two in the morning.”

Reese cocked her head to one side. “Wait, what is taking you so long to get out? I don't understand.” She replied. She internally kicked herself at her inability to speak with real inflection, or to at least pretend that she cared about things.

Maria ducked her head. “Are you serious?” She then gestured at a wash-bin full of dirty silverware. “Run that through the dishwasher.” She ordered.

As Reese did as she was told, Maria explained herself. “I had eight tables going when I was cut off the floor, which, mind you was after everyone else anyway. So, I'm still here because I was running the floor when everyone else got to do fun things.... like their cut work. So now, you're gonna help me, because if you don't, I might as well sleep here.”

Reese gulped, her eyes wide with remorse. She couldn't believe she had let herself, that she was still letting herself be so emotional about this. “I'm sorry.” She mumbled. She though about explaining the problem, about telling her about the hefty check in her pocket, or the two billionaires that were vying for her affection and about how she could bring herself to want neither one of them, but the mere idea clashed catastrophically with the last one on one conversation they had had, which essentially consisted of Maria complaining about how terrible her love-life had become. Before she could even really decide, she just grabbed the rack of silverware and rushed it over to the dishwasher. Once she had slammed the door shut and started the cycle, she turned to find Maria staring at her, an eyebrow raised in speculation. “Are you okay?” She then asked.

Reese bit her lip, her stomach lurching at this question. The last thing she wanted to do was answer to other people's speculation on her mental state. She cleared her throat in a revealing way. “Yeah. I'm fine. It's nothing.” She replied, before brushing past her into the kitchen.

She found a comfortable spot leaning against the counter as she waited for the silverware to wash. The whole time she exhausted herself, trying not to let her mind wander back to that decision that could change her life forever.

Before not too long, the last remaining cook slipped out of his apron and hung it next to the five others on the hook next to the door. He tipped his hat at Reese, then disappeared around the corner. She tried her best to force a light smile, but it came off more as a grimace than anything else.

“So, are you ever going to tell me why you just jumped ship like a crazy person?” Maria asked as she wobbled towards her with a full rack of dripping silverware.

Reese smirked at this unnecessary question. She was overflowing with a emotion as millions of questions and impulses bounced their way around her head. The pressure of it all made her feel as if she was going to explode at any moment. That coupled with Maria's uncanny ability to force information out of people made it practically inevitable that she would eventually learn what was going on in the back of her head. She sucked in a deep breath, her gaze shifting from Maria's expectant expression to the harsh fluorescent lighting above her head. She furrowed her brow and muttered, “Can we roll somewhere else?”