arrived.
* * * *
With dinner service in full swing, Chelsea watched the dining room with satisfaction. Everything was going as smoothly as she could hope for. As well as if Cara were here running things herself. She couldn’t help but feel a little smug. At least this was something she could do competently.
She did the circuit through the room and was greeted with smiling faces and compliments to the chef. Even Marco and Daniel were making it work in the kitchen and food was coming out without a hitch. Chelsea wasn’t going to jinx it by saying anything. She just hoped it kept up for however long Cara was gone.
The tension drained from her with each hour they crept closer to closing. By the time the last patrons paid and walked out of the door, Chelsea was exhausted—and proud.
She ambled over to lock the door then flipped off most of the lights at the same time, leaving the room illuminated just enough to see what they needed to tidy up.
She got out of the way of the cleaning staff as they did their thing and headed to the bustling room next door. Their end of night routine was like a well-organized ballet—up until she heard the telltale sound of plates crashing on the other side of the kitchen.
That didn’t happen too often, so she investigated. Amid the chaos of getting things tidy, Daniel and Marco hustled the cleanup of the broken dishes and keeping people clear so that no one got hurt. The busboy, who had presumably broken the plates, dashed back with a brush and pan and quickly cleared up the debris.
Even that went smoothly, but Chelsea couldn’t help but feel as though the lucky streak they were having had run out.
Pushing the thought aside, she caught Daniel’s eye as cleanup wound down, and one by one, staff finished their jobs and took off for the night. He nodded. He would hang back after everyone else left.
If Cara wasn’t there, Chelsea was the last to leave. She made sure everything was set for the next day and that the restaurant was secure. Lately, Daniel stayed behind as bodyguard. It wasn’t as if the restaurant was in a rough neighborhood—far from it. But she did like not having to be there alone.
Once everything was locked tight, Chelsea sighed with relief. Another night. Another success.
“You look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a champ,” Daniel whispered against the skin of her neck.
“I feel like it.”
“Ready to go, then?” He lazily wound an arm around her waist and led the way to her car.
She unlocked it and got in. “Will you come by tonight?”
“Just try to keep me away.” He winked. “I have to let the dog out, then I’ll come over.”
“See you then.” Being with him seemed to be the only way she could unwind lately. Not that she’d tried much of anything else. Maybe Cara’s idea of having a fling was sound advice after all.
Chapter Four
Chelsea glared at her bare apartment as if it was its fault that she couldn’t find a way of making it more romantic. What could anyone do to dress up what was essentially a box? Not that Daniel cared. He hadn’t commented on her lack of décor since his first visit. She doubted he noticed much outside of how to get to and from her bed.
Not that men cared about such things. She had never imagined his apartment, but she’d wager that it wasn’t anything lush or well decorated. It didn’t really make sense to have places that were opulent and hardly spend time in them. Since she’d moved back, she’d only ever returned to her apartment to sleep. That was, until recently. Her returns were much more recreational as of late. Maybe on the weekend she would find some time to do a little decorating and furniture hunting.
If her account allowed for it.
Something else she had to get used to. Chelsea might miss the days when everything she wanted would miraculously be provided by Richard, but at least now she had control over everything—including her life.
And that felt wonderful.
With
* * * *
With dinner service in full swing, Chelsea watched the dining room with satisfaction. Everything was going as smoothly as she could hope for. As well as if Cara were here running things herself. She couldn’t help but feel a little smug. At least this was something she could do competently.
She did the circuit through the room and was greeted with smiling faces and compliments to the chef. Even Marco and Daniel were making it work in the kitchen and food was coming out without a hitch. Chelsea wasn’t going to jinx it by saying anything. She just hoped it kept up for however long Cara was gone.
The tension drained from her with each hour they crept closer to closing. By the time the last patrons paid and walked out of the door, Chelsea was exhausted—and proud.
She ambled over to lock the door then flipped off most of the lights at the same time, leaving the room illuminated just enough to see what they needed to tidy up.
She got out of the way of the cleaning staff as they did their thing and headed to the bustling room next door. Their end of night routine was like a well-organized ballet—up until she heard the telltale sound of plates crashing on the other side of the kitchen.
That didn’t happen too often, so she investigated. Amid the chaos of getting things tidy, Daniel and Marco hustled the cleanup of the broken dishes and keeping people clear so that no one got hurt. The busboy, who had presumably broken the plates, dashed back with a brush and pan and quickly cleared up the debris.
Even that went smoothly, but Chelsea couldn’t help but feel as though the lucky streak they were having had run out.
Pushing the thought aside, she caught Daniel’s eye as cleanup wound down, and one by one, staff finished their jobs and took off for the night. He nodded. He would hang back after everyone else left.
If Cara wasn’t there, Chelsea was the last to leave. She made sure everything was set for the next day and that the restaurant was secure. Lately, Daniel stayed behind as bodyguard. It wasn’t as if the restaurant was in a rough neighborhood—far from it. But she did like not having to be there alone.
Once everything was locked tight, Chelsea sighed with relief. Another night. Another success.
“You look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a champ,” Daniel whispered against the skin of her neck.
“I feel like it.”
“Ready to go, then?” He lazily wound an arm around her waist and led the way to her car.
She unlocked it and got in. “Will you come by tonight?”
“Just try to keep me away.” He winked. “I have to let the dog out, then I’ll come over.”
“See you then.” Being with him seemed to be the only way she could unwind lately. Not that she’d tried much of anything else. Maybe Cara’s idea of having a fling was sound advice after all.
Chapter Four
Chelsea glared at her bare apartment as if it was its fault that she couldn’t find a way of making it more romantic. What could anyone do to dress up what was essentially a box? Not that Daniel cared. He hadn’t commented on her lack of décor since his first visit. She doubted he noticed much outside of how to get to and from her bed.
Not that men cared about such things. She had never imagined his apartment, but she’d wager that it wasn’t anything lush or well decorated. It didn’t really make sense to have places that were opulent and hardly spend time in them. Since she’d moved back, she’d only ever returned to her apartment to sleep. That was, until recently. Her returns were much more recreational as of late. Maybe on the weekend she would find some time to do a little decorating and furniture hunting.
If her account allowed for it.
Something else she had to get used to. Chelsea might miss the days when everything she wanted would miraculously be provided by Richard, but at least now she had control over everything—including her life.
And that felt wonderful.
With
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