AFTER MY PITY PARTY LAST month, I had enough sense to clean and wrap my wounds right away. Thankfully the cuts were all shallow and the amount of blood I lost wasn’t near as much as it seemed in my haste. Each cut burned like a son of a bitch when I cleaned them. The faint scars will be a permanent reminder of how low I fell. But I somehow crawled my way back up. It was pathetic, but it was what I needed to wake up.
It wasn’t immediate, and I still had some days that I felt pitiful, but I pushed through them. I forced myself to live even if my mind and my body were fighting each other.
It’s not the life I dreamed of or ever even imagined I’d have, but it’s the only one I’ve got. It’s my life, and it was time to take it back. I thought about all the other people in witness protection and asked myself if this is what they were doing. I doubted it. So why was I torturing myself. Why was I living as a broken shell of the woman I used to be?
Yes, my identity changed. But who I really am never did. And I needed to be her again. Or at least a shell of her that wasn’t cracked so much.
I had no clue how difficult this journey would be. The past two years have been a chapter in my life I never want to revisit. Ever. If anything, I wish I could erase them altogether.
But now, after reading lots of self-help books, I’m… good. I think I just developed an overwhelming sense of peace within myself. I learned to live for today. Not in the past and not with fear of the future.
Yoga has also helped to center me. When I took my first class, I ended up having to leave the room because I was crying so hard. The second one I made it to the end, but the freedom I feel during and after class is unparalleled.
It gave me strength not only physically but mentally as well. I could focus on myself and not worry about everyone who doesn’t even know where I am. Grateful doesn’t even describe what I feel for discovering yoga.
I hit the mother lode of luck when I found an ad last week for a hostess at Savor. I immediately put on a nice outfit, did my hair and makeup, and then drove to the restaurant. I turned in my application and got a callback for an interview.
So I sat there, across from Paxton Ray’s desk, his shiny blue eyes giving me his full attention as they scanned over my face. It’d been a month since I’d cut myself, and I prayed he wouldn’t notice the scars. “I remember you.”
“Really?” I smiled.
“Of course. It’s been a while, though.”
“It sure has,” I agreed. “That was over two years ago.”
He rocked back in his chair without taking his gaze off me. My face heated, and I tucked some of my still red hair behind my ear. After a moment, he sat back up and finished the interview. On the way out, he told me to wait for his call, and as I was driving home, my phone rang.
Apparently, he was desperate because it’s now the next day, and I’m starting my first shift. I’m nervous. I park where he told me to around the back of the building and straighten out my black skirt before walking in the employee entrance. A man with a tray nearly runs into me as I step through the door. “Shit, sorry,” I squeak.
It’s chaos and loud and bright, yet I smile. For the first time in years, I genuinely smile. Something about walking in here makes me feel like I have some sort of purpose. Of the several jobs I’ve had over the past couple of years, none of them felt like anything more than a j.o.b.
I would go into work and just zone out. Then someone would call my name and I’d ignore them, not because I didn’t hear them, but because I forgot my name was Kay. Or is Kay, I should say.
Even though I got fired from several jobs, I learned a little something from each of them that I have stored in my brain and will hopefully get to use in the future for something. I’d hate for all that experience to go to waste.
Since I’m such a coffee hater, I couldn’t even make someone a cup before, but now I can mix up a mean Americano.
I know how to fold a shirt in about point three seconds from one of the retail stores I worked at. That’s actually come in handy when I do laundry.
“Katy, dear.” I turn to the right where I hear my name being called, knocked back into reality. Then I snicker because this big reality star is saying my fake name, and for some reason, I find it hilarious. Paxton holds his arm out for me, and I walk over to him. “How are you?”
“Great, thanks,” I reply with a smile. “But it’s just Kay.”
“Oh, well. That’ll just be our thing, then.”
Confused but not wanting to question him, I say, “Okay.”
When his hand slinks around my lower back and rests on my hip, I stiffen. Not used to a man’s hands on me, the feeling is a little strange. Especially because it’s not Jay. Specifically because it’s not Jay. It’s been… over four years since anyone other than Jay has touched me. The past two years it’s been nobody. But before that, Jay and I had been together for two years, and from the moment I met him, he’d been the only man to touch me since.
I shake the thought of him out of my head and relax into Paxton’s grip.
“Attention, please!” Paxton’s voice bellows throughout the sterile white kitchen. The entire staff freezes in place and gives him their full attention. “This is Kay. She’s our new hostess. Please make her feel welcome.”
A murmur of hellos and welcomes come my way. I shyly wave back and say hi to the people who are close to me. The reality is, nobody gives a crap. They’re all busting their asses, and it’s clearly evident this introduction is an inconvenience to them. Great. They’re all going to dislike me already.
“As you were.” Paxton practically shoos them away, and in an instant, everyone is back to their tasks. “Let me show you around.”
He holds out his elbow like a gentleman from the fifties, and I take it only because it’s the polite thing to do. Under normal circumstances, I’d be so intimidated right now. My insecurities would creep up on me and make me falter in my steps.
But I feel powerful.
Something about the way he treats me as if I matter gives me a confidence boost I’ve been desperately missing. I hadn’t realized until I was truly alone how much I leaned on my family. Knowing I had them and Jay at my back, made me feel like I could do anything. I guess I’m relearning how to have confidence in myself and in my abilities as an employee. I’m determined not to fail at this job, especially because I like being back in this type of atmosphere.
Plus, I don’t have anything to lose. If nobody likes me, I don’t give a crap. I have no one to impress and nobody to answer to. It’d be easier if I got along with everyone, but I no longer care about making other people happy. It’s hard enough to make myself smile anymore.
Financially, I’m stable. I barely have any bills. I have spent about a quarter of the money in my account, not including what I’ve put into it from my multitude of jobs. All my clothes are from the clearance racks because I simply had the time to waste shopping for hours on end.
Not knowing how long I’m going to continue living here is a good reason to save some money, too. I’m alone and with a whole lot of nothing in the future, so I’m trying to be frugal. I’ve found couponing a fun game, too. I like to see how much I can save. Makes me feel like a forty-two-year-old soccer mom, but oh well. It’s something to pass the time.
Paxton walks me around and shows me where everything is even though I won’t be using most of it. He introduces me to the bartender, Freddy, and I hug an enthusiastic Adrian. “I’m so happy to meet you,” he beams at me.
“You, too.” I don’t tell him we’ve already met because I don’t expect him to remember me from two years ago.
Paxton takes my elbow. “I’ll leave you to it.” He nods at Adrian.
I raise a brow in confusion.
“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. Adrian is the general manager now. He’ll be training you until you’re comfortable on your own.”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you.” I still can’t believe I’m talking to this man. When I was bored and depressed, I’d lie on my couch all morning and night; days and weeks of barely moving. When his cooking show was on, I’d always watch it. One episode, he made the same dish I got when I was here a couple of years ago.
I’d considered coming back here to eat again several times, but I never did. Since I felt so out of place, I decided against it. But now I’m working here and realize that it’s not as bad as I originally thought. Sure, it has a fancy décor, but it’s actually a laid-back environment.
“So wanna let me know what your secret is?” Adrian asks after Paxton walks away.
“What?”
“He’s normally grumpy. And I don’t think I’ve ever heard him even mutter the word sorry, let alone use it in a full sentence.” He winks at me. “Probably because you’re so cute.”
I cough to cover up my surprised laugh. “What? No.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m not interested, but boss man… oh, he definitely is, and I hope that this new side of him is one we see more often. Everyone was tired of dealing with his crabby ass.”
“Hmm. Well, he’s been nice to me.”
“Like I said. You’re cute.”
As he shows me the seating chart and explains how they make reservations, my mind wanders. Paxton Ray is a famous chef. He’s cooked for the President. There’s absolutely no way he treats me nice because he thinks I’m cute. Is there?
It’s been a couple of months since I’ve been here at Savor. Paxton doesn’t come in often, just like Adrian told me. When I do see him and observe his interactions with the rest of the staff, I realize he is kind of a jerk to everyone else. I remain professional and try not to make it obvious that I can tell he favors me. So when I walk into the office during a shift, I come to an immediate halt upon seeing him unexpectedly.
“Oh, hi. Sorry.”
He waves at me, covering the speaker of his phone. “Come in, Katy.”
I step inside, but then he points at the door and mouths for me to close it. I quietly shut the door and then walk over to the wall where we all have a cubby. Inside my purse, I take out a tampon and shove it into my pocket discreetly.
“Dammit.” He throws his phone on the desk, and I turn around.
“Everything okay?”
He shakes his head. “The florist I was using for the opening of Savory in Portland has just informed me that she’s pregnant and not able to provide the flowers I’d already ordered and paid for since she was ordered to bedrest.”
“Ugh. That sucks. What kind of flowers?”
“Scabiosa. Simply for the fact that Doris Housing is attending and it’s her favorite flower.”
I look at him with wide eyes.
He takes the expression to be that I don’t know who she is. “Her husband is one of the top food critics in the country and I want to make both of them very happy.”
But I know exactly who she is. Doris Housing is a celebrity wedding planner. That’s amazing she’s going to be there. Most people probably wouldn’t recognize her name, but she’s a huge idol of mine. Of Livvie’s. “Wow. Is the florist refunding you?”
He nods. “That’s not the point. The point is that I don’t have time for these complications on top of everything else I need to get ready for the grand opening. And I have a taping next Tuesday, which is also the only day the other florist can meet me.”
“I can do it,” I volunteer before I can think of any repercussions.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I used to work at a bakery,” I lie. “We worked closely with florists for weddings and stuff, so I’m familiar. That is, if you want me to. I’m sure there are other people more qualified to do the job. Never mi—”
He holds up his hand, and at first, I think he may be calling me out on the lie. “If you think you can do it, then I’d be happy to have you try. I’m a bit of a control freak so I’ve been doing everything myself.” He motions for me to come over next to him and points at the computer screen. “This is my schedule. I’ll add your work email to the approved list. I’ll also let Adrian know you’ll be unavailable as a hostess for a little while as we sort this mess out, and he’ll just have to make it work. I need this opening to go off without a hitch.”
I press my lips together. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
He stands, and I don’t realize how close he is until he’s at his full height. “Thank you. This really means a lot to me.”
“Thank you for the opportunity.” The air in the room becomes stifling, and I’m regretting opening my mouth. I just saw an opportunity to do something that I loved doing and jumped on it, which is something Olive would have done.
He tilts his head and raises his hand to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. “You’re a very pretty girl, Katy.”
My face heats up, and I step back, not quite flattered and a little uncomfortable at his praise, which is highly unprofessional. “Thank you.”
“Do you have plans after work this evening?”
“Um. No.”
“Good. I’d like to prepare the dish I’m planning to serve for the opening. I’d love to have you… taste it.”
The innuendo in his sentence makes a shiver coast up my spine then slink back down.
“I need an opinion. And I trust you, Katy. That’s why I’m giving you the opportunity to head up the opening for Savory and asking your opinion with the food.”
Now I feel stupid. For a second, I thought he was hitting on me, and I didn’t really like it. But now, I realize I’m overreacting. “Okay, sure.” I step back and put my hand on the doorknob. “I’m on shift until seven.”
“I know.”
I offer a smile.
“Meet me back here when you’re done.”
For the rest of my shift, I’m antsy. Jittery. Wondering if I made a mistake or not. Plus, I’m on my period, and my emotions are all over the place. And I have cramps.
But when I meet him back in the kitchen and he cooks me dinner, both of us laughing and having a great time, I realize that he's just a nice guy. He’s kind, and he’s giving me an opportunity that would be nearly impossible to get if it weren’t for my situation.
It turns out to be a really fun and exciting few months as the time goes on. I devour the job, loving being in my element again. And I’m excited to wake up in the morning. Days go by without me thinking about my old life. The first time it happened, I felt horrible. As if I betrayed my family. But the next time it happened, I didn’t cry. And eventually, I didn’t even realize I’d forgotten to be sad about not thinking about them.
So now, six months later, Paxton, Adrian, and I are sitting at the bar after closing. I sip on my wine after Paxton tops off my glass, and I’m really enjoying myself. Much like I have been recently. The pretense that I have to be closed off and alone has slowly dissipated since I was hired at Savor, regardless of what job I’ve been doing.
It’s the people I’ve met who have helped me to live again. If it weren’t for Adrian and Paxton, I don’t know if I would have allowed myself to ever be happy again.
“Cheers.” Adrian raises a glass, and the three of us clink them together.
“Happy anniversary, Katy.” Paxton nods at me before swirling his scotch and taking a small drink.
I smile at his nickname for me. “Thanks, guys.”
As I sit here, laughter bubbling, Paxton’s fingertips graze my arm as he talks, and a warmth I haven’t felt in years makes me shiver as guilt slides through my veins.
He pauses his conversation, and when I raise my head, tearing my gaze from his hand to his eyes, he smiles. I jump out of my seat. “I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, I rush to the restroom and push the door open, the springs too weak to prevent it from slamming into the wall.
Skidding to a stop, I turn on the faucet and lower my head to splash some water on my face. Once my body has cooled slightly, I look at myself in the gold-trimmed mirror.
“No.” I say the word, but the sound doesn’t come out of my mouth. This can’t happen. Nothing like this can happen.
A knock on the door startles me, and before I can answer, it’s pushed open, and Paxton’s head pops in. “You okay?”
I stand straight and clear my throat. “Yeah. Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yep. I’m tired, though. I should probably go.”
As I pass him, he takes my upper arm in his hand. “I’ll have my driver drop you on the way home.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
Instead of arguing, I only nod. When we get to the dining room, I notice it’s completely empty. “Where’d Adrian go?”
“Home. He was tired as well.”
I don’t feel scared. Not nervous necessarily. Not uncomfortable either, just… anxious. Emotions I’ve forced down, the ability to deny myself any feelings, or even the possibility of feelings again… To suddenly be overrun with them is nauseating.
Paxton reaches past me and grabs my purse from the bar and carries it in his hand as we walk outside. There’s a security guard at the door who walks in after we step out. He will go through and lock everything up.
A long black limousine idles at the curb, and in true Seattle fashion, a light sheen of water covers the ground. I learned quickly that the sun that was here the day I arrived was pretty short-lived. My three-inch black heels slip, and Paxton’s hand tightens on me. The driver steps out and hurries around the car to open the back door. Just before I step in, a light flashes, and a fan calls Paxton’s name. “Can I get a picture?”
“Sure.” He smiles at the fan. “Give me one second.” He helps me into the back seat and hands me my purse. “I’ll be right back.”
After the door closes, I watch through the tinted glass as he shakes hands and takes a photo with a couple, the woman clearly holding back her excitement with meeting last year’s most eligible bachelor. The man, who I’m assuming is the husband, pulls his wife away. The door opens, and I can’t help the giggle that slips. “Paxton Ray, tell me. What does it feel like to know you’ve got all these women in the palm of your hand?”
He shakes his head, water falling from his black strands. “Looks can be deceiving, Ms. Summers.”
I agree. “Yes. They can.”
Suddenly, the air in the small cab thickens, and I strum my fingers against my thigh as I look away. This can’t happen. I’ve never been alone with Paxton like I am right now. He’s always been nice to me and treated me very well, but something has shifted, and I’m not sure I like it.
No, I take it back. I know I don’t like it.
Neither of us says a word for the rest of the ride home, but every time I glance over, he’s looking at me. Thankfully, the driver pulls up to my apartment in record time. “Thank you for the ride.”
“No thanks necessary. I will send someone to get you before your shift tomorrow since your vehicle is at the restaurant.”
“Thank you.”
“Not necessary, Katy.”
He opens the door and steps out, holding his hand for me to take while I exit as well. Once I’m out, I try to thank him for the ride again, but he begins walking up the walkway, my arm in his hand again.
“You don’t have to walk me.”
“I want to.”
Once we arrive at my door, he kisses my cheek before walking briskly away. I tell myself that it was just friendly, but deep down, I think he feels differently.