“You did all those already? I’m sorry I’m so slow.” It’s humbling how much he got done while all I was just peeling potatoes.
“It’s fine, girlie. You’ll pick up speed as you practice. Everybody starts somewhere,” he grunts.
“I’ll finish cutting these and then go get the chairs pulled down and ready for opening.” This part goes much faster than the peeling, and soon, I’ve got a giant bowl filled with potato cubesready to go. George shoos me out of the kitchen and into the dining room where I make quick work of resetting every table, so they’re ready for customers.
The morning flies by with group after group coming in, eating, and leaving just to be replaced by more people. Through it all, the feeling of being watched over persists. Any time I peek through the plate glass windows lining the front of the restaurant though, no one around seems to be paying any attention.
Leaves tumble along the sidewalk in swirls of autumn hues as the sun makes its way from one horizon to the other. October’s brought in fall with a fervor that can’t be denied. The walk here this morning was so cold I saw my breath puffing out ahead of me, and I know the trek back tonight will likely be even colder.
“Hey, wanna swap sections with me so I can be cut early?” Kara, the afternoon waitress always wants to leave early. She’s a student and claims she needs the extra time to study, and since I need every dollar I can make, I always say yes. Still, it means I’ll be even later walking home, and the temp will drop even further.
“Um, yeah. I can stay,” I agree, already thinking of what I can do with the extra money.
Yeah, tonight’s gonna be cold, but George already told me I can’t work tomorrow morning because we’ll be opening late so the health inspector and the fire marshal can do an annual review. Since I won’t need to be here ’til closer to lunchtime, I canswing through the thrift store and maybe find a coat with the tip money I make tonight.
By the end of the night, I’m bone weary and exhausted, but I’m another big day closer to my goals. I lock the dining room door, pull the chain for the neon “Open” sign, and slowly shuffle to the backroom where we leave our belongings and spend our breaks. There’s a gift bag perched on top of my ratty backpack. I’m a thousand percent positive the bag wasn’t there when I took my dinner break a few hours ago.
“Mateo, did you put a bag on my backpack?” I shout so he hears me over the sound of the dishwasher and the music he likes to listen to softly while he closes the kitchen after George goes home for the evening.
“Nah, my stuff’s in my car. I didn’t have to loan to it Gia today because she’s home sick. I just left everything in it, so I don’t have to carry it all around, you know?” Mateo’s another stray George collected. Seems as if he’s a magnet for down on their luck humans, and he always manages to hire folks who need a hand up. Like me.
“Okay, that’s weird then. There’s a present here on my bag, and if it’s not yours…” I say.
“Hmm, did you look at it?” he asks, coming up behind me and drying his wet hands on a dishtowel. He reaches over my shoulder and snags the bag, lifting it and turning it to dangle in my face.
“It says ‘Petal’ on it. Safe bet it’s for you. Dork.” He grabs my hand and places the strings of the bag over my fingers, letting the bag drop but not fall. “Is it your birthday?”
“Not yet. Not for a few more weeks.” I don’t advertise it, but my birthday’s the day before Halloween. Growing up, I got to pretend all the Halloween classroom parties were actually parties to celebrate my birthday. But we’re only a few days into the month and it’s not as if anyone here knows my birthday. Except maybe George because he hired me.
I don’t think he’d do this, though. He might be a teddy bear who looks out for his collection of misfit employees, but he’s not the sweet gesture type. Mateo shrugs and wanders back to the dish pit to finish cleaning for the night. I peek inside the bag. There’s no tissue, no card, just a sharpie maker scrawl of my name on the outside of the pale green gift bag. Inside is a dark, thick winter coat.
I unfasten the zipper and shake out the folded coat. It’s heavyweight and feels luxurious. The sort of parka athletes wear to adventure and compete in the snow. When I wrap myself into it, I realize it’s exactly the perfect size for me to wear with a sweater underneath, but it’s warm enough I won’t need to layer the way I have been.
I zip it clear to my chin and shrug into my backpack as I push my way through the kitchen door into the alley besidePete’s. My hands go into the pockets only to pull out brand new gloves in the softest pale gray leather I’ve ever seen. This coat and thesegloves are the nicest things I’ve ever owned, and I’ll be damned if I question the luck that brought them to me.
Maybe, whoever’s been watching me really is looking out for me. The thought sends tingles of appreciation through me. Hope and gratitude warm my insides as much as the gift warms my body.
“Thanks for the coat and the gloves!” I call out into the darkness. Somehow, I’m sure I’m heard.
Chapter
Twelve
CHAPTER 12
Zinovy
She wears the coat I purchased her. The gloves I tucked into each pocket with care protect her delicate fingers from the cold. Warmth from the heaters I’ve installed in the units on either side of hers is being pushed through the thin walls to ensure her space is as warm as possible without giving away her secret. If she suspects someone knows she’s been living in the storage facility, she could be spooked and try to run. I can’t have that.
The limitations on what I can do for her at this exact moment frustrate me. But it’s more important I ensure all preparations necessary for keeping her at my side are handled before I make my move. Something has scared her. Made her wary and skittish.
I don’t even know what the problem is, but I know it’s unacceptable. Following her route home from a distance, seeing how she’s toasty warm because of the coat I gave her, has satisfaction raging through me. That’s my woman. Provided for by my hand. Possession surges inside my body, heating my blood and sending it racing to my cock. Every heartbeat lengthens and thickens the monster behind my zipper, urging me to take what’s mine and claim her immediately.
Petal hums as she walks, a sweet lilting tune that seems to have no pattern. I hear it, in stereo, through the earpiece that picks up every sound in range of her phone. Her happiness tonight disproves Feliks’ naysaying and nagging that turning into a stalker for a woman is beneath a man of my position. Following at a distance, so she doesn’t spot me, listening to everything she hears in real time, I’m able to ensure her safety. Once she gets herself tucked away for the night, I’ll have to leave to attend to my duties. For right now, I’m hers, though she doesn’t know it.
In my pocket, my work phone vibrates with an incoming text, distracting me from watching Petal. I growl at the screen when it lights up in my hand.
Sergei: Ongoing issues with the southwest investment property. Appears to be several K’s light this month. Sorry boss.
