"How is it?" I asked huskily as if his response determined whether I would take my next breath. I didn't know why it mattered so much to me, but it did.
"Delicious." He slowly licked his bottom lip as his eyes met mine. A rush of memories filled my mind as I remembered all the things that tongue was capable of.
"Miss?" I quickly blinked away my dirty thoughts. "Can we have our check?"
I whipped my head around quickly to the couple sitting near the window. "Sure, I'll be right over."
Brando chuckled softly, and I hoped my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. His sketchpad rested open next to his elbow and a pen was tucked behind his ear.
"I... I’ll be right back," I mumbled and hurried off, though I had no intention of returning. I could feel the heat of his stare as I moved away.
Music played softly on the jukebox while I rolled the carpet sweeper across the floor. Brando drank his coffee as he scratched his pen along the image he was working on. I was okay with pretending he wasn't there, though I was curious to see what he'd been drawing. He stared intently at the sketchpad, his eyes focused and yet distant at the same time. The fluid motion of his wrists, the way he'd pulled in his bottom lip as he concentrated on each line had me captivated.
After the last customer left the restaurant, only Brando and I remained. I was trying to think of something to say, or better yet, a gentle way to kick him out. It was a bad idea to be alone with him, though it was tempting. I turned off the jukebox, and Brando lifted his head, looking around as if he'd suddenly become aware of his surroundings.
"Time to go?" He grinned slowly, and my knees grew weak. He was so perfectly handsome. It had been impossible for him to look bad, no matter his facial expression. Especially when his lips parted, and his eyes rolled back slightly as he—
"'Night, Carina." Brando's voice interrupted my lust filled flashback. He was standing near the door, with one hand on the handle and his sketchpad tucked under his arm.
"Oh, erm, 'night." Warmth filled my cheeks again as he stepped outside, letting the door slowly fall closed by itself.
I glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. The car would be there any minute. I hurried around the restaurant, collecting any hidden dishes and pushing in chairs, then went to the one thing I'd had to look forward to...Brando's drawings. I couldn't wait to discover which new inanimate object he'd given life to. A coffee cup? A drinking glass? A pair of spoons? I flipped the paper over, and the smile on my lips faltered. It wasn't an object. It was my face. Round eyes that I'd always felt were too big, my short little nose, and a cynical twist to my mouth. The picture was beautifully done, though it made me sad to know he saw me that way.
Guarded, weary, and a little lost.
He wasn't wrong. I just thought I was doing a better job of fooling people.
CHAPTER FIVE
Brando
Somebody had been stealing from me. I'd just listened to a voice mail from my bookkeeper. The records in the office and the bank deposits weren't matching. Small amounts that had started to add up over time. Someone actually had the balls to take money from me? It was infuriating. At least my own mother had the decency to rob me to my face.
My mind wasn't even
focused on the dark road ahead. I forced the car to go as fast as I could. It been raining off and, on all day, and puddles of water had formed alongside the pavement. Speeding down a dark, slick road like that was stupid, but I didn't care. I let the anger have me, to hell with it. I wonder if anyone would care if my car flipped into a ditch. The wipers swished rapidly as water sprayed against my windshield. I started slowing down when I noticed red tail lights twenty or thirty yards in front of me. Suddenly the brakes lit up, and the SUV jerked to the right, then came to a complete stop on the side of the road, narrowly missing the ditch. The back door flew open, and someone hopped out, slamming the door behind them. The SUV pulled off, tires squealing. The figure began walking in the opposite direction, toward me. I got close enough to see that it was a woman. She'd crossed her arms over her chest, hunched her shoulders, and walked forward into the pouring rain. I slowed down, ready to offer her help. My headlights illuminated the woman, and I noticed her red hair.
No, it couldn't be.
I stopped and rolled down the window.
"Carina?" She didn't stop walking. "Carina," I yelled a little louder. She looked up. Her eyes went wide, and her bottom lip trembled.
"B-Brando?"
"Get in." It was a command, not a suggestion. I half expected her to say no, but instead, she opened the door without argument and got inside. I turned up the heater as she settled in the passenger seat.
"S-sorry I'm getting your seats all wet." She shivered, her voice small, and her actions docile. She didn't seem like herself at all.
"What's going on, Carina? What just happened?"
"Nothing." She shook her head.
"Are you kidding me right now? I just watched you jump out of a car in the middle nowhere in the pouring fucking rain, and you call it nothing?" My anger was rising with each passing second.
"I... it’s..." Carina stammered. "I can't." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Can you just take me home?"
Her refusal to give me answers sent me over the edge. As if I wasn't already about to lose my shit before she got in. Whatever it was had upset her to the point she couldn't or wouldn't speak about it. I flipped a U-turn in the middle of the road and gunned it. Carina didn't make a sound, just rested her head against the seat and stared blankly out the window. I felt helpless. I didn't know what to say or the right questions to ask. When someone said they didn't want to talk, then I left it at that. It was how I wanted to be treated. To be left the fuck alone. Talking about feelings and shit had never been my thing.