Page 19 of Smut Lovers

Chapter Six

Violet

S he peered through the front door at the street.

The vicious early-January winter storm had arrived sooner than expected, catching her by surprise.

She hadn’t paid attention to the weather until after she finished her recording for the day.

It was a Monday, and Cal had been busy working on his own art, so they really hadn’t seen much of each other for several hours.

The past several months had worked out well, even if it meant a special kind of torture for her, seeing Cal every day.

She knew he wasn’t dating anyone but she still couldn’t bring herself to ask if he’d be interested in her.

“I probably should head home,” she said.

Cal’s mouth gaped. “Vi, are you crazy? You can't go out there in this weather!”

“If I wait it’ll get worse,” she said. “It's only a fifteen-minute walk.”

“That’s fifteen minutes too long in this kind of weather,” he retorted.

“Not to mention for you it’ll be more like a twenty-five-minute walk, and that’s if you don’t fall and bust your ass.

Presuming you don’t do that, then you’ll still have four flights of stairs to climb.

You told me the super won’t let people use the freight elevator during storms for fear of them getting stuck in a power outage. No way.”

He has a point.

Actually, several valid points. “Then I’ll order a ride-share.”

“They’re not out in this weather. Do you see any cars on the road? It’s a fricking ice storm. There are travel warnings, and the only people out are first responders and essential workers. You’re staying here tonight, and that’s all there is to it.”

He gave her the look. “If the power goes out while you’re in your apartment, not only will you be stuck up there unless you take the stairs, but you’ll freeze your ass off faster because it’s windier and colder.

And your stove is electric, so you can’t even use it as backup heat.

We have an emergency genny because of the fridges and freezer, and we have a gas boiler.

Please don’t make me call Phor and Mae on you. ”

“That’s playing dirty,” she grumbled.

“You know damned well I’ll do it in a heartbeat,” he said.

Although spending the night here, in close proximity to Cal, wasn’t exactly the worst option.

Far from it.

And that was what she was afraid of.

Because it would suck falling even harder for the guy while knowing he probably wasn’t into her.

Except turning into an icicle or giving herself pneumonia—or falling and hurting herself—and likely driving herself into a bad pain flare as a result of the cold and exertion wasn’t exactly a smart choice, either.

“Okay,” she said. “You win.”

His beaming smile wiped away any thought of changing her mind.

Damn, he’s so cute.

He gently hooked his arm through hers. “Now come back here, sit down, and I’ll make you dinner.”

“You sound just like Mae and Phor,” she said.

“Well, considering they raised me, that’s not a surprise.”

“I wish I’d been raised by them.” She realized she’d said it out loud when she caught sight of the sympathy that flashed across his expression. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to whine.”

He helped her ease into the booth. “Sounds like something else we have in common. I’ll be right back.” He paused, then turned again. “You never ate lunch, did you?”

She shook her head, ready for the scolding she’d likely receive, but instead he just shook his head and continued his journey to the kitchen.

She couldn’t help watching his ass as he walked toward the kitchen.

Yum.

When Cal returned fifteen minutes later, he carried large tray laden with tea fixings and food.

“The tea is decaffeinated,” he said as he took his seat after unloading the tray’s contents onto the table. “So drink as much as you’d like. And your tom kha is vegetarian, with veggie broth and tofu.”

“Thanks.” He’d also brought a bowl of her favorite ramen, fixed perfectly, spring rolls, vegetarian dumplings…

And a plate of Oreos.

“I didn’t know you served Oreos,” she playfully said. “Never saw that on the menu.”

“That’s because it’s special. For family only.” He widely grinned. “And because I know you love them.”

Heat washed into her cheeks. His tone spoke to more than just family, she felt certain of it. Come to think of it, he had stocked Oreos for her over the past few months.

But does that mean anything?

“Thank you,” is what she opted for after shuffling through a bazillion possible responses at the speed of fright.

Fright, because she worried she might say the wrong thing one way or the other, and either make him laugh because she was silly enough to think he might be interested in her, or make him think she wasn’t interested in him.

Either option sucked donkey balls.

As they ate they chatted and it felt easy, not forced. “If I’m keeping you from doing anything,” she said once he’d finished eating, “please feel free to go ahead.”

“Nah. I’ve got a commission I’m working on, but the client’s deadline isn’t for another three weeks so I’m good.”

“Commission?”

“A painting. For a book cover. An oil painting, not a digital drawing. Although I am working from the digital drawing I did for her first.”

“Oh, wow! That’s so cool.”

He shrugged. “It’s a living. I mean, besides working here.”

“How’d you become an artist?”

“I always enjoyed drawing. When I went to college I got a degree in art.” His wry smile tickled places deep inside her.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t pay a lot. I mean, not yet in my case.

So it’s my side gig. I get most of my commission work from social media posts and word of mouth references, or people who read my web comics.

I have an account with one of those print on demand services to sell merch for me, and I supplement all of that with what I know, which is cooking. ”

“Where’d you work before here?” she asked.

“Several places. All restaurants. All pretty crappy,” he added with a laugh.

“Not because of the food, but in general, I mean. Greasy spoons—literally. I didn’t mind working overnight shifts, or holidays, and no kids to worry about so I could pick up extra shifts when someone else needed time off, meaning I usually had daylight hours free for art. ”

“You didn’t try to work at another Thai restaurant? Or a high-end restaurant?”

“As far as high-end gigs, I don’t have the right experience or qualifications get so much as my foot in the door as anything other than a server or dishwasher.

Maybe line prep, if I’m lucky. As for other Thai restaurants, in this area they’re usually family-owned, meaning family staffed.

When I first moved into my apartment, I asked about a job at the one just down the block from me, and they said they didn’t need to hire anyone and wouldn’t be.

Which was too bad, because their food was nearly as good as Phor’s cooking. ”

“But you’re working here and it’s a family restaurant.”

“Because I am family to them. Besides, my Thai sucks. I’d probably end up irritating anyone else trying to speak it to them with what little I know. And I understand even less.”

She wrapped her hands around the comforting, warm mug and gently blew across it. “How’d you become family?” she asked.

A scowl momentarily darkened his features.

“Tom. We were best friends in school. I started coming home with him after school, because my parents lived close by. Mae and Phor saw my bruises and, eventually, through a series of events, I never had to go back. This became my home. Mae and Phor still lived over the restaurant back then.”

“Sounds like you’re leaving a lot out,” she said. “You won’t shock me.”

He looked haunted. “Tale as old as time,” he softly said.

“My father went to jail for finally hitting me somewhere I couldn’t hide from my teachers.

My mom blamed me, then turned to alcoholism and an increasingly worse string of boyfriends.

One day in fourth grade she said we were getting evicted and told me to get packed or I’d lose my stuff.

“I called Mae, panicked, and they were there in two hours with the counsellor. They didn’t officially adopt me but they got my mom to sign papers giving them custody. She was really drunk that day. They told her it was temporary, a guardianship so they could help me with school stuff.

“I don’t know if she knew what she signed. Not like she missed me when I wasn’t there.”

“But how did that…happen?” Vi asked. “I mean, didn’t they need lawyers and a court hearing?”

“If someone signs papers willingly no, none of that’s needed.”

“They didn’t ask your mom to move in, too?”

“Thank god they didn’t,” Cal said. “She was a mess. Even I knew that at my age. Mae was a better mom to me than my mother ever was.”

“Where did she go? Didn’t she try to get you back?”

“She found a spot at a women’s shelter. She called a few times in the months after I moved in, but then said she was moving in with some guy, and she’d let me know when I could join her, but the guy didn’t like kids. That was the last I heard from her.”

“Yikes. I’m sorry.”

“In the past. She’s long gone—I mean, she moved and I have no clue where. Unfortunately, my father’s still alive. And still in jail.”

“How do you know she’s alive?” Vi asked.

“Apparently she stays in touch with my uncle—her brother.” His expression turned dark. “She didn’t bother coming to my high school or college graduations. She started following me on social media a few years back.”

His gaze met hers. “And not once did that goddamned bitch even send me a DM, or ask for my phone number, or hell, even call here asking about me. It’s not like she couldn’t find the number—it’s been the same for over thirty years.

Mae and Phor literally have customers who’ve been eating here longer than I’ve been alive.

So I don’t know what her excuse is, but I guarantee you there’s no reason for me to try to include her in my life when she couldn’t bother to put down a bottle long enough to stop my father when he was beating the crap out of me. ”