Four Letter Word
Page 8

I inhaled a deep, soothing breath before finally responding.
“Because I would really appreciate the opportunity to work here, probably more than half of your staff. Because I don’t simply need this job, I want this job. Being over qualified isn’t an issue. I didn’t get a degree in waitressing. I have no idea how to work your computer system. But I am a fast learner. I’ll work my ass off for you. Tori said she does doubles occasionally to help you out. I have no problem with that. I actually wouldn’t mind the constant distraction. And again, I promise I’ll give you notice if another job comes up. Even if I’m only here a few weeks, you won’t regret hiring me.”
Silence stretched between us. Nate seemed to mull over my request, running his hand along the back of his neck as he exhaled a thick breath.
I looked anywhere but his face.
The stripes in his shirt. The clutter of paperwork on his desk. The back of my best friend’s head as she continued to forget I existed.
“I doubt half of my staff knows how to work the computer system. In fact, none of them use it,” Nate admitted, drawing my attention back to his face. A subtle grin pulled at his mouth. “You’ll fit right in.”
My mouth stretched into my biggest smile in months. The tension pulled from my shoulders. I extended a hand to Nate as he stood up out of his chair.
“Thank you so, so much for this. I can start immediately. Today. Tonight.”
He laughed, releasing my hand.
“How about Friday? I’ll pair you up with Tori for training.”
“Great.”
“Awesome,” Tori sang, skipping over to rejoin the conversation. She threw her arm over my shoulder. “Thanks, Nate. You’re the best boss ever.”
He jerked his chin, then reclaimed his seat, his eyes refocusing on the documents in front of him.
“Get Sydney set up with uniforms before you go.”
Tori directed me out of the office, nodding at Nate’s request.
“Thank you again,” I said over my shoulder before the door to the office closed behind us.
I felt relieved, and a bit excited. I hadn’t worked with Tori since we were sixteen and both living in Raleigh. We never got through a shift without cracking up at least a dozen times.
I needed this right now.
Tori pulled away from me when we reached the hostess desk.
“We’re getting out of here ’cause I don’t hang at work on my days off.” She reached for the keys in her back pocket. “Wanna wait for me out in the car?”
I looked out the large window overlooking the dunes obscuring the ocean.
“I think I’m going to go check out the beach really quick. Text me when you’re ready.”
She gave me a double thumbs-up before spinning around and walking back in the direction we came.
I slipped out the door.
I crossed the pebble stone parking lot and ascended the staircase leading to the beach, wrapping my arms around myself even though I wasn’t the least bit chilled.
The sun burned across a cloudless sky. I felt the intensity of it bake into the skin of my bare shoulders.
Waves crashed against the shore, some carrying surfers with them in the distance. A few feet ahead of me, a small child kicked a sand castle and giggled with his father.
I sat down on a step and slipped my sandals off.
The sand was warm underneath my feet as I dug my toes into it, staring out at the world in front of me. I rubbed a shell between my fingers as I watched a couple walk hand-in-hand toward the pier.
They looked happy. I tried to remember the last time Marcus held my hand, or even reached for it.
My chest burned when I couldn’t conjure up an image in my mind.
I looked down at the faint line marking my left ring finger. The token I was left with now that I no longer wore my ring. It was subtle, thanks to my naturally pale skin, but to me it stood out like embers glowing in the dark.
I hated it. I didn’t need a reminder of how I’d failed as a wife. Or how Marcus stopped seeing me as one.
Maybe I could coat my entire hand in sunblock except for that thin strip. Burn the memory away.
The idea seemed promising enough to consider.
From my back pocket, my cell beeped with an incoming message.
I wiped the tear from my cheek as I stood and palmed my phone, expecting to see Tori’s name lit up on my screen.
I froze on the step, my free hand on the railing as I stared curiously at the message and the number it was sent from.
Wild Girl. Eaten any innocent men alive today yet?
 
 
My lip twitched, the hint of a smile.
I sat back down, reading the message a second time as I remembered my conversation with this stranger yesterday. My accidental verbal beat-down.
Jesus. I really let him have it.
I couldn’t think of the last time I was that embarrassed.
I told the guy to remove a dildo from his mouth, for Christ sakes.
All in all, whoever this was seemed to be a good sport about it. He could’ve laid into me and cussed me out. Made me feel even more like a complete shit for dialing the wrong number and not confirming the identity of my intended victim before I tore into him like he owed me money.
He was more than decent about the whole thing. Easily forgiving.
And now he was messaging me out of nowhere and striking up conversation.
Wild.
He wanted to talk to me.
Huh.
I tapped my thumb on the edge of the phone case, then hovered over the letters of my keypad as I stared at the message.
Did I even want to talk to this guy anymore? Wasn’t this weird? We didn’t know each other. Our encounter was a mistake. A onetime mishap, never to be repeated.
Right?
 
 
Chapter Three

BRIAN
I passed out last night pissed off and ready to beat the shit out of my best friend/roommate, who didn’t understand the premise of fucking quietly in the bedroom down the hall. Moans and earsplitting screams echoed off the walls of our beach house, seeping underneath the crack of my door.
Filling my fucking head. Keeping me awake.
Nothing was unusual about that scenario. Jamie brought home lots of women, and I swore to Christ he tested out their vocal range before even considering their pussy as a temporary home for his dick. The louder the better seemed to be his philosophy.
I didn’t give a fuck what he did, or who. I just didn’t want to hear it.
Taking every pillow I owned, I submerged my head and muffled the sounds well enough to fall asleep.
Six hours, that was all I was asking for. Six hours and I could function enough to push through another mindlessly objectionable day in the life I was slowly living. Quickly hating. And unarguably deserved.
I barely settled into a dream when the shrill ring of my cell phone jerked me upright in bed.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, for my hand to seek out the bastard device on my nightstand. I didn’t recognize the number. I was fucking exhausted and could barely focus on the screen my thumb was hovering over.
I almost let the call go to voice mail. I almost said to hell with it and shattered the fucking thing by hurling it against the wall.
Thank fuck I didn’t. I would’ve missed out on the most amusing conversation I’ve ever had and, quite possibly, the most perverse.
And the voice that gave it to me.