Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love) (2 page)

BOOK: Out of the Dark (Forbidden Love)
10.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

     “
You never know ‘till you ask, honey.  You might be surprised.”

    
“Please,” Keelie huffed as she walked away in the direction of the wolf, her brown ponytail swishing from side to side.

    
“I find it very hard to believe you didn’t want that table, girl.  What is wrong?  You don’t like money?” he asked Brea.

    
“I’m just a big chicken, that’s all.”

    
“Well, you know, if you ever want my help getting over your insecurities, all you have to do is ask,” he offered seductively, trailing a finger over Brea’s forearm.

    
“Brandon!  I thought you liked guys,” Brea said, deftly moving away from his touch.

    
“I do.  But I am not one to discriminate.  Hot is hot.  And you, my dear, are hot.”

    
“Yeah, says the man who wears women’s underwear.”

    
“So do you.”

    
“But I’m not a man!  Are you sure you are?” she teased.

    
“If you ever want to know the answer to that question, I will be happy to show you,” he laughed, knowing she would never take him up on the offer.  He knew Breanna didn’t think she was pretty.  Her self-image was much too low.  She was short, pale complected, and had the most interesting color red hair he had ever seen.  It was red- red.  It hung in loose ringlets down her back when she wasn’t working.  Her skin was soft and unmarked.  Not even a freckle, which was odd for a red head.  She was thin, but not skinny, round in all the places a woman should be.

    
“Stop that,” Brea commanded, placing her hands on her hips.

    
“What?” he asked innocently.

    
“Undressing me with your eyes.  You seem to do that a lot lately.  Are you not getting enough?”

    
“Never enough,” he laughed, turning and leaving Brea alone at the service station.  She sighed to herself.  Brandon was strange, eccentric, and blunt.  But he was a great server and a great friend.  What would she ever do without her roommate?  She knew.  She would have gone crazy long ago, or she would be dead.

     Two years earlier, Brea came to
LA penniless and scared.  She wandered into a bad neighborhood and met her very first werewolf.  He had chased her through an old playground, doing little more than toying with her.  He would allow her to gain a short distance, only to close in on her at the moment Brea thought she was free.  She had been terrified.  Why the beast hadn’t just killed her and got it over with, she didn’t know.  But she managed to finally escape, and after a few weeks of living on the street, Brandon found her.  He took her in.  He got her a job at Rhino’s, the restaurant she still worked at.

 

    
“Brea,” a man’s voice said.  She spun around and looked directly into the face of her boss.  “You are going to be getting a party of twelve.  They will be here in fifteen.  Can you handle it?”

    
“Yeah, I gave Keelie my only table, so I got nothing right now.  Want me to go ahead and set up?”

    
“Oh, I got the hostess on it.  Just do what you do, ok?”  He turned to leave her, but then stopped.
 A
They are top priority,”he said
,A
make sure their orders get in and out of the kitchen quickly and correctly.  I promise you will be tipped well if you manage to see to all their needs.  And some might be a bit strange, just so you know.  If you need help, let me know.”  He spun on his heel and walked away without further explanation. 

     Brea had handled odd customers before.  She knew what to do.  Stay calm, be attentive, the guest is always right, and so on and so forth.  It was what made her a good server.  It was what paid the bills.  She
didn’t make nearly as much as Brandon, but neither did anyone else. The man was six feet of gorgeous energy; a whirlwind of customer service.  He did his job and did it well, a quality Brea had always admired.

     Brea waited patiently for her group to arrive, arranging silverware and napkins in front of each chair carefully, lining everything up perfectly.  Not as if any of the guests ever noticed, but it made Brea feel like she was doing her job to the best of her abilities. 
She was a little bit obsessive compulsive sometimes, but nothing too serious.  Most people just assumed she was a neat freak.  Her tidiness and attention to detail was what made Brea a good server.  She diligently worked over the place settings at her table.  Each setting had a coaster, a water glass filled with ice water, a red cloth placemat, a silver setting and a meticulously folded napkin.  When she was satisfied the tables were perfect, Brea returned to the station where Keelie was waiting. 

    
“I got his number,”she beamed.
 A
He wants me to call him when I get off work.”

    
“Congrats for you then,” Brea mumbled.

    
“Holy God in Heaven, would you look at what’s coming in the door!”

     Unable to help herself, Brea looked.  There was a group of men gathered at the hostess stand, waiting to be seated.  The hostess wrote something down, nodded, and led the men to Brea
’s prepared tables.  It was her party.  The men all looked alike and yet, they were all very different.  They were all pale skinned, they all were tall and muscular, they were all strikingly beautiful.  They all had black hair.  But their eyes were different, their hair varying lengths.  Their facial features were different as well.  They moved with silent grace to the table, taking a seat without seeming to make a sound.  There was only one kind of creature who moved with that kind of beauty and graceful assuredness.   Vampires.  Great.  Just freaking great.

 

    
“Shit.  I trade off a lone werewolf only to have to wait on a dozen vampires.  This ought to be interesting,” Brea grumbled.

    
“You want me to take it?” Keelie offered.

    
“No, John told me to do it.  I might need help though,”

    
“All you have to do is ask,”

     Brea grabbed her pen and book and took a deep breath.
 A
You can do this,” she told herself.  She lifted her chin and approached the dozen vampires with her head held high and a confidence in her step that was one hundred percent fake.

    
“Hello, welcome to Rhino’s, my name is..” Brea lost her train of thought when her eyes met those of the vamp closest to her, at the head of the table.  They were emerald green, their depths untold.  They were the eyes of a man who had centuries of knowledge, but they also bore a kindness that she had not expected.  Brea felt herself falling into those eyes, unable to stop herself.  She felt the rest of the world swirling and slipping away.  The restaurant and all the customers disappeared and there was only this beautiful man and herself.  He stared back at her unblinking for an immeasurable moment before reminding her that she had been speaking.

    
“Huh?”she said, shaking her head and breaking the spell.  She knew better than to make direct eye contact with a vamp!  Their gaze was mesmerizing.  They could bewitch you in an instant and one would agree to anything the vamp wanted.  Silently cursing herself, Brea forced herself to continue.
 A
Brea, my name is Brea.  Can I get y’all something to drink?” she drawled in her southern accent.  Even though she tried to hide it, her southern Georgia roots showed when she was nervous.

     Any reasonable sense of calm and order Brea had flew right out the window when they answered.
 A
Drink, Hmm, what
does
a vampire drink?”one said.
 A
I could think of a few I would like to drink,”another said.
 A
Are you personally on the menu?” another asked.

     Fear clutched at her heart and she nearly turned tail and ran.  But she needed her job and running wouldn
’t help.  She screwed her courage up tight, even though her heart was slamming against her rib cage,  andraised her chin
,A
No,
I
am not on the menu, and I was referring to wine.  There are other places to get what you want, we do not serve human on our menu,” she replied with just the right amount of distaste in her voice.

    
“I like this one, she’s feisty!” one said.

 

    
“Enough,” the man at the head of the table said sternly.  The others fell silent.
 A
We would very much appreciate two bottles of your best red wine, Brea.  And when you return, we will be ready to order.  They will behave from here on out, I promise you,” he said, looking not at her eyes, but at a spot on her forehead.  It was a courteous gesture, one meant to insure trust.  It did not, however, dampen the effect of his voice.  It was deep and velvety, seductive and sexy.  The timbre seemed to vibrate all the way into Brea’s bones.  She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.  He had the slightest accent, one Brea couldn’t immediately place.

    
“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

     Brea walked a little too fast away from the table.  When she finally ducked behind the service station, she folded her arms on the counter and dropped her head on her arms.  After a few deep cleansing breaths, she turned her attention to the conversation already going on.

     “Are you sure?” Keelie asked.

    
“Positive,”Brandon answered.
 A
I would know that face anywhere.”

    
“Who?” Brea asked.

    
“The man at your table.  The one on the end.  I would bet my left nut that’s Angel Knight.  You know, rock star?”

    
“No way, I was just there.  It couldn’t be,” Brea said.

     “
Did you look at his face?  I mean, if it’s not him, then I’m a straight man,” Brandon declared.

    
“Well, you do like women too,” Brea teased her friend.

    
“Just get your sweet ass over there and see for yourself.  Better yet, ask him.  Can you get his autograph for me?”

     Brea left Brandon to his ramblings. 
Even if this man was Angel Knight, there was no way she was asking for an autograph.  She had a job to do and she would do it.  She rang up the wine and removed it from the shelf.  After arranging twelve wine glasses on a tray and balancing it with her left hand, she grabbed the two wine bottles by the neck with her right.  It was a delicate balancing act, but not one she couldn’t handle.

      Upon approaching the table, Brea quietly asked permission to set the wine on the table before
placing an empty glass in front of each vamp. 
Guest
, she reminded herself.  The owner of Rhino’s prided himself on catering to all people.  All people were guests.  She expertly opened both bottles and poured each guest a glass.  She was all about service.  They came here to get the best service, without being ogled for who and what they were.  She would make damn sure that is what they got.  When she poured the wine for the one with the green eyes, her heart jerked violently in her chest.  It was him.  Angel Knight!  At her table!

 

     All twelve vampires,
guests
, ordered steak.  Rare.  No vegetables.  That was the usual order for vamps.  Blood was needed, but they, especially older ones, could eat meat.  Brea was the perfect server, seeing that their glasses stayed full, their meal delivered in a timely manner.  She did her best not to talk to them unless they spoke first.  Her hands were shaking the entire time, but she endured.  When finally, finally, they were finished eating, Brea cleared their dishes.

     When she reached for the empty plate in front of the head vamp,
the oh so dreamy Angel Knight, he grabbed her by the wrist so fast that she never saw it coming.  She immediately dropped his plate back to the table with a loud clatter.  Brea looked at the man with fear and distrust.  She glared at him, as if to say
,A
how dare you touch me?”

    
Realizing that when she dropped the plate, she inadvertently knocked over his wine glass.  The red liquid was spilled on the table and dripped down into his lap.
 A
I’m so sorry,”she pleaded
,A
let me get a towel, I will get you cleaned up.”

    
“It’s no bother,”he said quietly, still holding her wrist.
 A
You are not to blame, I am.”  He raised her wrist to his face and skimmed his nose over her pulse, breathing in her scent.
 A
Mmm, delightful,” he murmured.

     Brea was horrified.  She was angry.  He
was smellingher with the most frightening expression on his face, as if he was restraining himself from tasting her.  Before her brain caught up to her mouth, Brea was yelling at him.
 A
Look buddy, my job is to serve you while you are here.   I told you before and I meant it, I am not on the menu.  I don’t care how good I smell, my blood is going to stay right where it is.  Inside my body.  Now let go!”  She jerked her arm away from him, slightly pleased with the shocked and hurt expression on the man’s face.  Served him right.  Just because he was famous did not give him the right to go about sniffing people.  It was just rude!  She knew that she had possible ruined any chance of getting a decent tip, but she couldn’t manage to care.  He was over the line.  Brea stomped away with their plates.  She was so mortified that she had Keelie deliver the check, and collect the payment.  Brea stayed behind the service counter until the men were gone.

Other books

Shades of Midnight by Linda Winstead Jones
Meet Me at the River by de Gramont, Nina
Buried Caesars by Stuart M. Kaminsky
Apricot Jam: And Other Stories by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Possession by Ann Rule
Leadville by James D. Best