Chapter 11

Colton

The smell of her hair was still on my pillow when I woke up the next morning. I couldn’t get Addison out of my thoughts, so to have her smell still surrounding me took things to another level. I idly wondered if I could get away with not showering, just to bask in the scent of her skin against mine a little longer.

The memory of us together last night played on a loop in my brain. The taste of Addison, the way she felt in my arms. Sinking into her had been like finding heaven. I’d never wanted to leave.

My cock was rock hard and I didn’t mind the throb. Even it reminded me of her. Fucking her had been so phenomenal, I felt like “fucking” wasn’t the right word for it. It was a mixture of “transcendence” and “ecstasy,” with just a pinch of “dirty fun.”

Addison wasn’t like other women, especially the ladies who threw themselves at me during my gigs. She was elegant, refined, but with a wicked wit that kept me on my toes. When it had come time for seduction, she’d met me measure for measure. And that thought just made my dick throb harder.

I padded to the shower, turning on the hot water and waiting for it to work its way through the building’s old pipes. As steam filled the room, I considered how to move forward. I really liked this girl. More than I’d liked anyone in a long time. She was in her own class, head and shoulders above the rest.

But she was also concerned about my profession. I couldn’t blame her. If the tables were turned, I’d be burning with jealousy, knowing a room full of horny men were ogling her naked body. Fuck that. Won’t happen. So how could I expect her not to feel the same way?

The hot water helped clear my head. I mulled over my predicament. At the moment, the career I wanted was out of reach and the jobs I had were less than satisfactory. One was a consolation prize for not being a chef, and the other was actively standing in the way of the only relationship I’d wanted in ages. Something had to change.

I jumped out of the shower with a renewed sense of purpose. I’d been floating along, content to wait in the wings at the restaurant while using my physical attributes to make enough money for me to wait and see. But that time was over now. I had to go after what I wanted.

That meant Addison, definitely. Which in turn meant I couldn’t continue stripping on the side. But Addison wasn’t the only thing I wanted. I’d come to the city with a dream, and it had been put on hold for long enough.

If the bistro’s owner wouldn’t give me a chance in the kitchen, then I’d walk. I’d find somewhere else that would give me a shot. It was a big risk to take, giving up both jobs in a single day, but something about being with Addison made me bold.

She’d worked her ass off to get to where she was, and every day she tried as hard as she could to achieve her goals. If she could do it, then so could I. Addison wasn’t just the girl I wanted, she was an inspiration.

I headed into work, determined to have my say with the owner. I wouldn’t be put off any longer, and I wouldn’t be the butt of her ridiculous soul-crushing jokes either. I found her in her office, cocktail in hand even though it wasn’t even noon yet. She eyed me suspiciously, but I could see the corners of her mouth wanting to turn up. The owner was still laughing about her gag from yesterday.

“You’re looking quite chipper this morning,” she said around a sip of her drink. “I would have thought waving your junk at floozies all night would make you tired.”

“I’ve got more energy than you think,” I replied, refusing to take the bait. “And you should really stop underestimating me.”

The old woman leaned back, taking me in from head to toe, then sighed. “You’ve obviously got a bee in your bonnet this morning.” She gestured at the stool in front of her. “Take a seat.”

I straddled the stool and took a deep breath. I knew the old broad would be a hard-core negotiator. I had to stick to my guns and be ready to walk out if (when) things didn’t go my way.

The owner set down her drink and put her hands on her knees. “Let me guess, the word ‘kitchen’ is about to come out of your mouth, less than 24 hours after I warned you against it.”

She wasn’t wrong, but there had to be a way to bring her over to my side. I’d had grandmothers eating out of the palm of my hand during a gig, so this hard-bitten Mahattanite wasn’t impossible. I wasn’t going to seduce her, but maybe I could find another appeal that might work.

“You say you want my pretty face on display in your restaurant.”

She nodded, raising an eyebrow. “That’s right. Hot, charming waiters get customers to linger, ordering more, and making me more money.”

“That’s just the thing,” I said, leaning in. “My face makes you money, but my body’s been making me money.”

She snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll just bet it does. But if you mean to convince me to turn this place into a strip club, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

I smiled. “Not at all. I’m simply saying, I’m more than a pretty face. Give my body a chance to earn you some money. I’ve got skills that extend beyond remembering six separate orders. Beyond rippling my ab muscles to make ladies drool. I can fucking cook, and if you give me a shot, I’ll make you more money in the kitchen than I ever made you as a server.”

The owner stared at me, mulling over my words. Then she shook her head. “I’ll give you one thing, kid. You don’t quit. I thought for sure you’d slink out front with your tail between your legs and stay there after what I said to you yesterday, but here you are, directly disobeying me.”

I shrugged. “I’m tired of being patient. It hasn’t gotten me anything but a night job that makes me sore in strange places.” She laughed at that line, but I continued. “I’m a trained chef, and I know your menu inside and out. Give me a shot, just one week, and I’ll prove to you that I can be a greater asset to you back where no one can see my face.”

“Okay,” she said finally, throwing her hands up. “You win. You’ve got your week. Tell Chef I want you on as his assistant. I’m going to make sure he goes hard on you, so be prepared to work. And if you don’t prove yourself in those seven days, you’re never going to mention the kitchen again.”

I smiled, jumping up and kissing the old broad on her papery cheek. “Thank you! I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

“You better not,” she said, finally cracking a smile, “or you’ll have to do more than give me a private dance to get your waiter job back.”

I laughed, knowing she wasn’t serious, but I shook my ass at her as I made my way out into the kitchen all the same. The rest of the day I worked my hardest, managing to impress the head chef by the time the lunch rush was over.

At long last, I was doing what I’d always wanted to do. It felt fantastic. Now I just needed someone to share it with. I wished I could call Addison, but I remembered she was dancing tonight. Not to mention she’d never given me her phone number.

Maybe I should stop by after work, try to catch the end of her show. Maybe even take her out to celebrate. Now that I could give up my side gig, I hoped she would give me a shot. I felt on top of the world, confident in my ability to romance my way into Addison’s heart. Shit, I’d gotten the old broad to give me a shot in the kitchen after three years of telling me no.

Addison won’t be able to resist me now.