Wilde Velvet (12 page)

“Anyway, we’ve got work to do.” he says checking the time on his BlackBerry. Our conversation is over. It’s back to business as usual. I am going to miss getting to know him.

Eleven

“Now let’s talk about your performances. We need to decide on a playlist. I’m thinking five songs in total. Four of your favourite’s and then finish with ‘written in the stars’,” I like the sound of his suggestion. Now the hard part is choosing the songs. I have so many favourites that it will take me a lifetime to choose. No doubt when I finally decide, Mr Wilde will disagree with me. He always does. It’s so frustrating.

“Any suggestions?” I ask sweetly. He clasps the bridge of his nose as he rummages in one of the desk drawers. He pulls out an iPod and he slides over and places it into a docking system. He touches the screen as he looks at me.

“I made a playlist of the songs I thought would suit your voice. There are loads on here; I hope you’re not in a hurry to get away?” I check my watch. I have to be at the café at six, it’s now four thirty. Surly it won’t take us an hour and a half to choose four songs. I smile at him and he flashes me his megawatt smile. I lose my breath at the sight of that sexy line that forms in his cheek. Wow, he’s not just gorgeous but he’s mesmerising. I am really attracted to him. I can’t deny it nor do I want to. I can tell that he feels the same. I can sense it when he looks at me. He wants me and I want him. If only we could be together.

“I have to work in a bit, but I’m sure we’ll choose by then.” he smirks and kicks up the first song, Irreplaceable by Beyoncé. I shake my head and he skips   to the next, Yellow by Coldplay. Love the song, but hate to sing it. I shake my head again; he skips to the next, the one that got away by Katy Perry. This one I like.

“Sold, I love that song.”
he smiles at me and writes down the title on a piece of paper. It takes us around twenty minutes to decide on the playlist and it’s as follows.

The one that got away by Katy Perry.

Set fire to the rain by Adele.

Sky Scraper Demi Lovato.

Issues by The Saturdays.

Written in the stars by Ashley Scott Harper.

Mr Wilde wanted to hear me sing my song again and I was quite happy to grant him his wish. We took it slow. I sang the first verse a few times, so that I could really get a feel for the tempo. Once I had it, I moved onto the chorus and then eventually the second verse. I must have sung the song at least ten times, but each time, I fell more and more in love with the lyrics. Mr Wilde seemed pleased with my progress and he thinks that I should have the song fully recorded by tomorrow. Mr Phillips has stayed in the background so far, but Jonathon has warned me that he gets rather hands on when it’s nearing the end of the trial. I only have four weeks left. I can’t believe how quickly those first four weeks have gone. My nerves are heightened and my whole body paralyzes at the thought of not making it. I want this so badly. I hunger for music in my life and I wouldn’t survive without it. If I fail then my dreams will shatter. My heart will break and I will no longer have a reason to see Jonathon. I need to succeed any other outcome would just be a tragedy.

The café is quite tonight. There are only a few couples in and one family of four. I am hardly rushed off my feet. It was really hot today and the temperature is still soaring as the night draws closer. Our usual diners are the beach types. Relaxed and calm just looking for
a quite spot to grab a bite before they head home. But tonight is really quite. I expect that the sun has taken its toll and everyone is no doubt exhausted from the heat. One of my tables, a young blonde couple who look really into each other, calls me over to their table. They have finished their meal. I offer them the dessert menu. They refuse and gaze into each other’s eyes lovingly and simply ask for the cheque. I smile and clear their plates. I run their tab from the till and as I walk back over to their table, I see someone who takes my breath away. Jonathon walks into the café, dressed in his slim fit jeans and black polo shirt. His aviators are slid into the front of his shirt. His hair is sexy and carefree. His eyes are sinful and his presence is spectacular. He briefly makes eye contact with me. He presses his lips into a sweet smile and I return his gesture, blushing as I do. I am the closest waitress to him, so I politely place the cheque down onto the couples table. Thanking them, as I turn my attention to the door. I walk over to Jonathon and when I reach him, he surprises me by gently kissing me on my cheek. My heart flutters. His actions are inappropriate, but I am not going to complain or tell him off. The mark and the sensation of his lips are everlasting on my cheek. My stomach flips. I force myself to wake the hell up. I grab two menus from the pile at the till. He shakes his head at me whilst he takes in the view of the menus in my hand.

“I only need one,” I smile. He notices and smiles back. He’s alone. I was expecting Candy to walk in through the door any minute. I begin to wonder why she isn’t with him. Did he finally end things with her? I smile at him again. I realise that my constant display of affection is a little
too obvious. I really need to cut it out.

“I’ll show you to your table.” I say as I reluctantly turn my back on him. I lead him over to a booth at the back. I wouldn’t usually assign such a big table for one guy, but the café is quite so I make an exception for him. He slides himself into the booth and I hand him the menu. He is eyeing me intently. My heart flutters again. Then I begin to wonder why he’s here. Did he follow me? He knew that I was working tonight and he hasn’t brought Candy with him. Is he playing me? Does he have a new game plan in trying to win me over? I am excited at the thought of him pursuing me. I know I wanted nothing to do with him. I wanted him to stay away from me, but the last two weeks have been torturous. I have hated not being able to talk to him. I have missed his dazzling stares and lip biting as he looked at me. I have missed his desire and that long intense stare that he does ever so perfectly. I have to admit it, I like him. I want to tease him. I want him to tell me why he’s here.

“Are you stalking me Mr Wilde?” I say playfully. He laughs, but he doesn’t look embarrassed as he replies.

“In your dreams, Ashley,” I can’t hold back my smile. My jaw is starting to hurt from my constant smiling. I must look silly. Grinning from ear to ear at everything he says. “If you must know I really like the food here.”
he explains. I almost buy his answer. He scans the menu and then he turns to me.

“What can I get for you?” I ask, managing to control my smile this time.                  

“What would you suggest?” he says. I press my lips together.

“I thought you liked the food here? So you should know what you like?”
he laughs and blushes a little. I like that I make him blush. It makes a change from my constant burning cheeks.

“I had steak the last time, but I’m not in the mood for steak tonight.”

“Then what are you hungry for?” I say, not realising how sensual my question sounded. He smirks at me. I wait for his reply.

“Estoy hambrienta por ti!”  There he goes with the Spanish again. Man I wish I knew what he said. I should really write down everything he says in Spanish and Google it to see what he’s trying to say to me. But I am too cowardly for that. Deep down I don’t want to know. He could either be saying that he loves me, or that he hates me and wishes that I were out of his life. I am defeated by him.

“What does that mean?” I ask. I instantly regret my question. I don’t want to know the answer any more than he wants to tell me.

“It means something that I can’t say to you in English.” I panic, now I am desperate to know.
No Ashley its better if you don’t know.
  My subconscious screams at me. I agree and focus back on the job at hand, taking his order.

“The omelette is really good.”
he cocks his head to one side, handing me the menu as he does.

“That’s sounds perfect,”

“Would you like something to drink with that?”

“Beer,” I nod and excuse myself. I shake off the feeling of him as I head to the kitchen. I shout the order to the chef and then I grab a bottle of corona from the bar. I click open the bottle and I feel like swigging it down myself. He leaves a toxic taste in my mouth, a taste that I would love to wash away. Another couple leaves and now there’s only Jonathon and the family of four in the café. He’s texting on his phone as I make my way back over to him. He places the phone onto the table as he sees me coming. Those eyes consume me.

“Here’s your drink. Your food shouldn’t be long. We aren’t exactly swamped as you can see.” I say looking around the empty café.

“Thanks
. Do you wanna… join me for dinner?” he blurts out. I am flattered and confused.

“I can’t I’m working,” I say embarrassed. He rolls his eyes.

“You said yourself that you aren’t busy.” he pleads. I want to say yes, but I can’t. It would be against my rules and it would make things a whole lot more complicated.

“I can’t
. Sorry.” he looks upset, hurt even. I feel bad, but I know it’s for the best. I excuse myself as I see Sal walking across the room. I run over to her. “Sal can I talk to you,” I ask. She looks tense, but she allows me my minute.

“What’s bothering you Ashley?” she says staring at me. I take a deep breath.

“I was wondering if there are any extra shifts going?” she laughs at me.

“Look around sweetie; we aren’t exactly mobbed now are we?”
she does have a point, but I need the extra money.

“Please Sal, I need the money. My mom is getting married in few weeks and I can’t afford the flight home.” Sal looks compassionate.

“Ashley you know that I would help you out if I could. We just aren’t getting enough business. I’m sorry. I but can’t offer you extra work.” I am confused.

“But we had some really good nights last week,” she agrees, but I get the feeling that she means no when she says it.

“One good night isn’t equal to seven bad ones. We just can’t afford to pay you double right now. I’m sorry.” My whole world has come crashing down. What am I going to do? “Maybe your mom can help you out?”

“No I can’t ask her to do that. She works really hard for what she earns and she deserves to have her dream wedding. I can’t ask her for money
, when I know how tight it is for her right now.” Sal pats my shoulder. I can tell that she feels for me. I know that she would help if she could. I understand. Times are tough and she and Kevin have two children to support. I feel bad that I even had the cheek to ask her for more money. She walks away from me. I run my fingers through the ends of my caramel coulouerd hair. What am I going to do? I hear the bell for Jonathans order. I compose myself and put my worries out of my head as I head over to the kitchen. I grab his food and I march over to his table. He looks edgy as I place the plate in front of him. He doesn’t look at the food, just at me.

“What was that all about?”
he asks in a concerned tone. I sigh and flop onto the seat opposite him. I rest my elbows on the table, and he reaches across and grabs onto my arms. I look up at him, with my heavy eyes. “What’s wrong?” he says soothingly.

“Nothing,” I lie. I don’t want to bother him with my money worries. He doesn’t believe my answer so he pry’s some more.

“I know you’re lying. I can tell when something’s bothering you.” I give in and tell him.

“My mom is getting married in a few weeks in Dallas. The flights are really expensive
, and my boss can’t offer me any more extra work. I’m broke and I have no idea what I’m gonna do. I can’t ask my mom for money. She doesn’t have any to spare, you know.” he sighs and looks sorry. He runs his fingers along my hand and he whispers.

“Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll find a way.” I shake my head. He doesn’t understand. I should never have told him. I pull my hand away from him as he starts to eat his food. I force a smile and I excuse myself.

I arrive home an hour or so later. I’m exhausted. I brush my teeth and head into my bed. I grab my phone and check the time. It’s nine thirty here, so its eleven thirty in Dallas. I was supposed to call my mom tonight and from what I can remember, she doesn’t go to bed early. I take the plunge and dial her number. The phone rings. I have put the speaker phone on. I am too tired to hold the phone to my ear. My mom answers me rather quickly. I hope that I haven’t woken her.

“Ashley?”
she says in a bright tone. Great she wasn’t sleeping.

“Hey Mom,”

“How are you sweetie, how’s your music going?”

“Really good, I have a song.”
she screams a high pitched squeal. Thank God for speaker phone. I would have gone deaf from her pitch.

“That’s wonderful sweetie. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom, enough about me, how have you been? And Pete is he good?”

“We are both great, busy with all the wedding stuff, you know.”

“Yeah about that,”

“Ashley, have you thought about being my maid of honour?”
Fuck, just the conversation I was dreading. What I am going to say?

“Mom, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I was thinking that one of your friends would be more … suited to the role.”
  The phone is silent. I hope I haven’t hurt my moms’ feelings.