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He snorts out a laugh. “Real smooth.”

I shake my head and walk away; I’m not dignifying that with a response. I mean, it’s not like I was trying to be smooth. It’s not like I evenwantto be smooth around her. Even if she is my greatest temptation—much to my chagrin. She’s also my biggestweakness—just look at my inability to stay mad at her. Maybe that’s due in part to her being the mother of my child? Fuck if I have a clue. All I know is with every day that passes, my anger decreases.

I’ve managedto avoid Natalie for most of her shift. Pathetic, I know. But, I swear it’s like she’s out to make me crazy. From the feel of my hands on her body earlier, as innocent as it was, to the narrow indent of her waist before the sinful flare of her hip…damn, it’s all I can think about.Which is truly insane, seeing as I should still be upset with her—not lusting after her.

It doesn’t help that the first time we crossed paths after her shift started, she was walking in front of me a few paces and dropped her order book. She bent to retrieve it, presenting me with the sweet apple of her ass, and,oh my God,I almost came in my pants. Honestly, I think it’s the universe punishing me for not manning up and talking to her when she asked.

After that incident, I confined myself to my office, only leaving if absolutely necessary. The fact that I’m hiding out in here pisses me off. This isn’t the kind of owner I want to be. My style is hands-on and elbows deep, yet here I am cowering in my office because I’m too chickenshit to face the truth.

Sitting at my desk, I stew. It feels like we’re engaged in some form of silent warfare. Logically, I know the notion is insane and completely a figment of my over-agitated and under-sexed imagination. But my heart’s not listening to my brain. The muscle in my chest refuses to take this war sitting down and wants retribution. My heart, the foolish bastard, screams,What right does she have to dump the shit she did on you, and then prance around looking like every wet dream you’ve ever had?

Finally, I decide I’m being ridiculous. In an effort to prove to myself just how crazy I’m being, I head out to the floor. Only, right as I step out of my office, Natalie walks past me toward the kitchen, her hips swaying like a pendulum.

Covertly, I watch as she enters the kitchen, all the while trying to convince myself not to follow her, but I’m helpless to resist her pull. When I enter the kitchen, my little lying temptress is leaning forward with her elbows propped on the counter and her ample cleavage shining like a beacon to every red-blooded male in the kitchen.

The thought of my kitchen crew checking her out has me seeing red. “The hell are y’all sitting around for? I’m not paying y’all to gossip.”

Natalie straightens, but it’s Darren that speaks. “Nat was just paying compliments to the kitchen from one of her tables.”

“Great, and now you know. So.” I wave my hands, shooing them. “Get back to work. And Natalie, why don’t you button your shirt up a little more.”

She sputters, shocked by my words, before turning and stomping out of the kitchen.

I pinch my eyes shut in frustration, fully aware I’m acting like a psychotic jackass. When I blink them open, my entire kitchen crew is staring at me—probably wondering if I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown…well boys, the jury’s still out.

CHAPTER 28

NATALIE

Hand on a Bible,I’m about two seconds away from tearing Alden a new one. I came in tonight feeling the kind of hope I haven’t felt in a long time. The still-sealed test results are burning a hole in my pocket.

I thought he would be as anxious as me to open them—but he’s running so hot and cold that I’m not sure if I’m going to need sunglasses or a fucking parka when we finally sit down to talk. One second, he’s cordial, the next he’s shooting me these lingering looks, and all in the same breath he’s basically calling me a whore.

What right does he have to tell me to button my shirt up? Not to mention, only the top two are undone. You know, the same wayeveryonewears a button-down shirt.

Thankfully, Alden’s pissy, mercurial ass stayed out of sight after that, and I pasted on a fake smile and got through my tables.

It’s fifteen minutes to closing time, and I have one table left—a cutesy couple on a date. Their meals are long since finished, yet they’re still here, seated at their small table staring at one another all moony-eyed. Normally, this wouldn’t bother me. Butthe longer they stay, the longer I have to wait to storm Alden’s office and demand he talk to me

“Maybe they need a little push,” I mutter to myself, heading back to my lone table. I’m so incredibly ready for us to open this envelope—I’m ready for him to know I’m not lying, even if he doesn’t remember that night at all.

Quietly, I slide their check onto the table. “No rush, y’all. Just wanted to leave this here for whenever you’re ready.”

Their conversation halts, and they blink at each other and then at me. The girl looks at her phone. “Oh, Andre! Did you see the time?”

Her date checks his phone, and immediately pulls out his wallet. He peels off three crisp twenties and lays them on top of his bill.

“Thank y’all so much for dining with us. I hope everything was wonderful.”

They both smile and thank me, and then they’re on their way. I immediately dash to the closet, grab the cleaning caddy, and set to work on my station. Memories of last Wednesday filter in, very much uninvited. Things like the way his scruff felt against my face and the way he wrapped my hair around his fist. I shut those thoughts down—the last thing I need to be when we talk is turned on.

I fly through my cleaning and rush to put away my supplies. I’m not giving him another chance to blow me off or avoid me.

Carlos intercepts me as I approach the office. “You ready to cash out?”

“Yup. Ready to go.” I edge a little closer to the door he’s blocking. “Just gotta speak to Alden first.”

“Nah, let’s take care of this first. You’re the only person I’m waiting on.”