Brie touched my shoulder again bringing me out of my thoughts. “You can do this!”
I nodded. “I don’t have a choice.”
After squaring my shoulders, I quickly crossed the room to Michael’s table. I walked with a purpose, carrying the pitcher in one hand while placing the other behind my back like the other servers did.
The closer I got to the table the more the power that exuded from this man enveloped me… suffocating me.
“Would you like some water?” I asked. I couldn’t help the fact that my voice trembled a bit. I was almost crippled with my fear. There was no doubt in my mind that Mitch had been right when he said he was the only one in his family that was not dangerous.
This man felt extremely dangerous. Slowly his deep midnight eyes rose to mine… and oh ya’ll! It felt as if somebody snatched the breath straight out of my body. Being this close to him gave me the same rush one would feel if they were standing on the tracks in front of an oncoming train.
“Are you my waitress?” His deep baritone was like smoke. It slowly traveled up my body to pool in my belly, stirring up the butterflies that were already there.
I did my best to smile, but I know my lips quivered.
“No, I’m not. I just came to offer you water. Your waitress will be here momentarily.”
He smiled and I’m telling you, that pitcher nearly fell from my hand. Saying he was handsome was an understatement. It looked as if he was fresh from the barber. His low fade, beard, and mustache were trimmed perfectly around his angled dark face. His good looks coupled with the authoritative power that clung to him was enough to be any girl’s undoing.
I stood here about to drug this man so that I could kidnap him, and the only thing I could think was, when was the last time I made love? It had been over five years.
“In that case, sure, I would like some water.” The way he was looking at me was unnerving, so unnerving that I had to focus on not shaking as I poured his water. But it did little good, because I was shaking so badly a little of his water spilt out on the table cloth.
His sharp gaze took in my action, missing nothing. Slowly it rose up my arm, my breasts, my neck, and lips to settle on my eyes.
“Nervous?”
His voice was so deep I could feel the bass of it in the soles of my feet.
I gave him an awkward smile. “It’s my first day. Your waitress will be here directly.” I turned and walked back towards the break down station. I had to force myself not to run.
“He’s drinking it!” Bria whispered excitedly when I walked past her to pour out the rest of the liquid in the sink. After I was done I washed it out the best I could before laying it down on the floor. Hopefully whoever came in here behind us will see it on the floor and take it to the dishwasher.
A server hurried in balancing two cups of tea on her tray. “Oh!” she said startled.
“Are you guys new?” Bria shook her head.
“We just needed ice.” She picked up an ice cube and chugged it in her mouth. “See.”
The waitress slowly nodded looking confused, but we didn’t wait around to try and explain things further to her. Quickly we crossed the room, being careful not to draw Michael’s attention and left out the front doors.
“Wow! That was easy. What do we do now?” I looked at the bright smile on Bria’s face and wanted to slap her. Sure, it was easy for her, she’s not the one who had to walk the tight rope over a fire pit.
“Now we wait!”
When we got back into my little broke down Corolla, I reached up and pulled the wig off my head. Bria, who was not just my best friend, but also my beautician, had braided my long thick hair into really cute cornrows that fell to the center of my back. While that style was super fresh on the block, I wore the wig because it would have drawn too much attention in that uppity restaurant. I doubted real seriously if it attracted the kind of people that wore braids.
A few minutes later, two more men joined Michael. I took the binoculars I’d borrowed from Larry out of my bag to get a better look. One of the men looked to be Native American and the other was white. The handsome Native American man looked younger than Michael. Maybe he was a younger relative or something.
“What’s happening?” Bria asked leaning over my shoulder. I shrugged trying to dislodge her, but it did no good.
“Nothing yet.”
“Gurl, I ain’t never seen no black Ind—” She caught herself when I turned to look at her. “I mean I ain’t never seen no black Native American before, but damn he fine! And he built too. Was Mitch as handsome as his brother?”
“Yeah.” I told her, but it was a lie. Mitch couldn’t hold a candle to his baby brother. They favored each other, you could tell they were siblings. But where his brother wore that air of authority very well, Mitch had none.
However, to an eighteen-year-old girl it appeared at first as if he had plenty. When I first met Mitch, I thought he was Puerto Rican, he talked like he was from the hood and he dressed like he was from the hood. I had no way of knowing he was Native American.
He’d approached me after hearing me play the violin at an event that Larry was catering. He said I was so sexy playing that thing that he wanted to put
