Chapter Four
I stood behind the bar, wiping the wet glasses pulled from the dishwasher and stacking them onto the shelf. I avoided talking to Troy for the week. He’d only approach if it was about business—other than that, nothing was said. I didn’t know what to say to him. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way our bodies felt pressed together, the boat rocking underneath. I could feel myself becoming aroused at the thought of him, but every time the feeling came up, I forced it out and away. The only explanation I figured was that I just was lonely. I told myself it didn’t matter because it would never happen again.
I stacked the last glass when two older men came into the restaurant. I assumed two brothers or friends here to enjoy some late dinner. I approached them, asking if they would like a table or a booth. The taller man with a navy shirt asked for a booth, but his cold gray eyes were scanning the entirety of the room, never once looking at me. Once they were seated, the shorter one pulled out his phone and glanced up at me. He had a black baseball cap over his eyes.
“Is there a Melissa Bellman here?” he asked, staring at his phone.
“Uh, yes, what is your name?” I asked, setting the menus in front of them and clearing away the extra two plates.
“Our friend suggested, when we come here, to ask for her,” the tall one said. This time, he stared straight into my eyes.
“Sure. One moment.”
I squeezed past Brett, trying not to tip over the beers he was about to serve, and I went into the kitchen. The heat from the ovens saturated my face, landing on my skin.
“Aye, Danny! Did that blonde woman like her burger?” one of the cooks shouted at me, referencing an attractive mother with her three children and husband I had served two hours earlier.
“I’m sure she did.”
“Nice.”
“Have you seen Melissa?
“Office,” he said, whipping a spatula at the direction of the door.
“Okay, thanks.”
Melissa poked her head out of the office. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and her arched eyebrows were furrowed into a worried look.
“Someone say my name?”
“There are two guys asking for you, Melissa.”
“What are their names?” she asked, stepping out from the door.
“They didn’t say. I can show them to you.”
She turned her head into the office and whispered something. Troy stepped out. His broad shoulders pushed past Melissa. He never once looked over to me. There was an air of concern on his face, but nothing compared to the scared look Melissa wore. She acted as if there was a ghost standing behind me.
“Is everything all right?” I asked. Something was wrong, very wrong.
“Show me,” Troy said. So, we walked to the window in the kitchen door. Troy peeked out, his jaw clenched.
“I’ll go talk to them,” he said, glancing at Melissa, who nodded.
“Wait, can’t you just have Daniel say that I’m not here?” Melissa said in a quick voice, grabbing her brother’s arm. “They can’t know you’re here.”
Troy stared at her for a moment.
“Sure. Daniel, just tell them she isn’t here.”
I felt uncomfortable now. I felt their eyes watching me walk through the doors and over to the booth, where the men calmly sat.
“So sorry, but Melissa is not here.”
They looked at each other then back at me.
“That’s fine,” the tall spoke again.
“Does she normally work on Thursdays?”
“I do not know, sir.”
“So, when is Melissa Bellman going to be present here again?”
“She really doesn’t work much…” I laughed, trying to make the situation less awkward. They stared at one another for only a moment and picked up the menu.
“All right, then,” said the short one, “I’ll have one plain Dog House burger.”
“And I’ll just have water,” the tall one added.
“Sure thing,” I nodded. I walked behind the bar and got their drinks. I glanced back at the kitchen and saw Melissa turned away crying, and Troy nodding. I had no idea what just went down. Liz walked over to me, holding a tray of half-eaten food.
“What was that all about?” she whispered.
“Oh, I don’t know. They were just asking for Melissa to be their server.”
“No, in the kitchen.”
“I don’t know.”
Liz moved in closer so our bodies were almost touching and her breath tickled my ear.
“Don’t you think it’s weird they decided to open this new place in the middle of nowhere?”
“I suppose.”
“They’ve got to be losing money at this place. They don’t fit in here; that’s why they are always in their office.” She pulled away then, her full lips pursed. “I’m just saying.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about it. They did seem a little too classy for up here, but I just assumed they used to live here. I followed Liz back into the kitchen. I didn’t find anything too suspicious about two old guys asking for Melissa to be their server, but the kitchen meltdown was odd. Melissa and Troy had left the restaurant. Liz raised her eyes at their absence. I just smiled at back.
***
The next morning, I told Grandma about the two men and how Melissa went into a panic. She laughed, guessing it was some old boyfriend. She did mention though that people were always asking about the Bellmans. It was Brett who pulled me aside later at work that day. His rough hands grabbed my arm and yanked me aside by the closet with the cleaning supplies.
“I heard about the guys,” he hoarsely whispered.
“It’s nothing, Brett.”
I jerked my arm away from him. He coughed then, taking a step back.
“You know about Troy, don’t you?” he asked, his gaze so firm on mine. My first thoughts went to the fact Troy was gay, but I didn’t think too many people knew that.
“No, I don’t know about Troy.”
I could feel my cheeks getting warm. Does Brett know?
“You saw how freaked Melissa got when just some old guys were asking for her to be their server, right?”
His breath reeked.
“Sure, right.”
“Well, word on the street is that he killed someone,” he said so flatly, liked he actually believed what he was saying. I relaxed slightly. Troy being a murderer was better than Brett knowing we kissed.
“Okay, that’s bullshit,” I said.
“That’s what everyone is saying.”
“And that doesn’t mean anything. People just say shit up here.”
“Then why would this hot-shot bar owner come to Hillview when we all want to get out?”
“I don’t know; figure his family used to stay here.”
“No one has ever heard of the Bellmans, and I know everybody.”
I folded my arms and glanced over at Melissa wiping the bar top down, her slender arm moving back and forth.
“All you people do is start something, ‘because you’ve got nothing to do here,” I whispered in harsh voice. It came out angrier than I had intended, but I thought they were all being ridiculous making these crazy assumptions, when Troy was the reason they had jobs.
I could tell that I had hit a note with Brett. He stood back with his arms folded; his mouth twisted into a deep frown. The last thing I wanted to do was start shit with a Hillview hillbilly. Brett let out a little snort or scoff—I am not sure exactly which—and turned around.
“If you are so confident it’s just a bunch of horse shit, go talk to him.”
“You want me to ask if he’s a killer?”
Brett smirked.
“No, just find out why he moved here.”
The last thing I wanted to do was talk to Troy about his personal life. I already knew why he was here—same reason as me.
“It’s none of my business, Brett.”
“You’re scared too?”
“Shut up.”
I was getting annoyed by his pestering.
“He’s in his office right now.”
“Fine, whatever.”
“Just make sure he doesn’t kill you.” He laughed at himself, walking back into the kitchen. I sighed and followed him. Part of me was curious about what happened with Melissa, but another part I could feel burrowing deep in my gut wanted some dumb reason to talk to him.
It just so happened that, today, Troy would be in his office. It was Friday, and Dog House was turning into the place to be on Fridays. A lot of families were making it their tradition. So, when business was high, Troy stuck around and made sure the money got counted, and the servers did well. We hit the dinner rush hard, and I was walking away with a few hundred bucks that night. Brett stood outside the office door, arms folded, holding a cigarette he was about to light.
I slid into Troy’s office. His fist gripped a phone. Sweat dripped off his forehead and down his unbuttoned shirt, revealing his tight chest. I suddenly became aware of the fact I hadn’t seen the inside of the gym in weeks.
I unconsciously folded my arms to make them look bigger and sat in the chair of the office. His dark eyes glanced over at me, and he nodded quickly, acknowledging my presence.
“Can I call you back? Okay. Great.” He put the phone down. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his lips, the same ones that touched mine. My mind drifted for a second—why did he decide to kiss me? Why did I like it so fucking much? He broke my train of thought.
“Hey, Daniel.”
“So, I had a good night tonight.” I really hadn’t thought about how I was going to approach the question of him being a murderer or who those mysterious old men were, or the fact we hadn’t talked since the boat trip.
“Well, that’s great. All the customers seem to really like you.” He smiled, glancing down at his phone.
I ran my hands through my messy brown hair.
“So, I just wanted to ask about those guys that came in yesterday. Everybody seems to be a bit worried, so I just wanted to see…” I was falling apart.
He frowned then, glancing at his hands.
“I understand how it might look suspicious, but I assure you, it was nothing. My sister just—she can get nervous about strangers.”
“Okay, cool.” I had no idea how to respond, given the fact he had explained nothing, but at the same time, it was not my place to question it. Or there was the fact—I wanted to ask him about kissing me. I started to crack my knuckles, a nervous habit.
“Anything else you need to discuss?”
He stood and walked over to sit on the side of the desk close to me.
I couldn’t help but glance at spot in his jeans where his dick was.
“Uh, no, I don’t have anything else to discuss.” God, what was wrong with me? But when I stood up, he stood up too. We were close, noses almost touching. My gut was screaming to kiss him, but I couldn’t. His eyes bounced back between mine and my lips. He knew what I wanted.
He kissed me again, and this time, I completely gave in. He came onto me, his hips on my hips, our hard dicks pushing on each other through our jeans. He started to rock his hips back and forth, rubbing on my cock. A thousand things were racing through my mind. I kept screaming stop, but my body wanted more. His lips moved up my neck, tasting the salty sweat on my flesh.
His body felt strong and heavy, and my cock wanted him to feel me. His hands trailed around my waist, slowly rubbing my back. They moved down to the front and started to unbuckle my belt. Without thinking, I jumped back.
“No, please,” I stammered, trying to catch my breath.
“Just come here,” he whispered, sticking his fingers around one of my belt loops and pulling me in to him. He unbuckled my jeans and slid a warm hand around my hard dick, holding it his large hand.
“I know you want this,” he said in a low voice, staring into my eyes.
Just then, a knock came to the door.
“One moment,” Troy shouted, pulling his hand out from my pants, leaving my dick stiff and exposed. I quickly buckled my belt and slid into the chair, trying to hide my boner. Troy pushed his thick hair back away from his face, glancing over at me and then stepping out of the room.
I leaned back trying to calm myself. This wasn’t right. I stared at the blank, white wall. What was I supposed to do? Not Troy, but the blood still pulsing to my dick argued that.
I waited then for about ten minutes, trying to drown any of the feelings I had. Troy popped his head into the door.
“I have to go; we can talk later,” he said before closing the door. I walked out of the office and into the dining area. Brett sat folding silverware.
“So?” he asked in cynical voice.
“He said it was nothing to worry about.” I watched out the window. Troy’s truck pulled out of the parking lot and drove onto the road.
“I don’t know about him,” Brett joked, sliding a knife between his fingers.
“Me neither.”