I take another glance down at the applications in front of me and frown. Could I even manage working in a busy kitchen ifthiswas what I preferred?Suddenly I feel lost. Overwhelmed and utterly lost.
I glance up to the date unfolding in front of me and feel like taking a sigh of relief. At least Celeste clearly isn’t intoThe Hair.I audibly scoff then inwardly scold myself. No. IwantCeleste to be happy, why am I wanting this date to fail?
God dammit, Dominic, YOU set this date up!
I’m just invested in Celeste’s happiness and clearly, she isn’t interested in him. A delightful airy feeling warms my middle. Okay I guess I’mveryinvested in Celeste’s happiness. A little worm of envy speaks on my behalf in my brain.
If you’re actually invested in her happiness, you’d find her better suitors.
To be fair, Jude did tick off many of Celeste’s boxes on her list. He was tall, clocking in around six feet, about two inches shorter than me, and he was handsome.Too handsome, perhaps?He looks like a teen heartthrob from the nineties. Even as a heterosexual man I was secure enough in my masculinity to appreciate another man’s beauty. And Jude was just that, beautiful. I could only draw comparisons from Ryan Phillippe in the nineties cult classic,Cruel Intentions,another favourite of mine that I make a note to rewatch soon.
Jude also comes from money, a large chunk of it actually funding the cafe we’re all currently dwelling in. Also, he’s set for his future. From the number of times he mentioned his upcoming trust fund being released soon, to the various estates his parents own and have gifted him and his siblings, he’d never have to worry about money.A gifted estate.As if a house were the same as a new sweater opened on Christmas morning. I can’teven fathom having that kind of wealth, that kind of reach. He clearly isn’t shy to flaunt it either. From the way he continuously leans in towards Celeste it’s clear he isn’t intimidated by her smart mouth and quick retorts. So he ticks off almost all her boxes. For me, he just ticks me off.
I grind my teeth so hard my jaw is aching and feel the application papers half crumpled in my fist, when movement catches my periphery. Celeste and Jude are getting up from their table, he leans forward and gives her a hug. She reaches up on her tiptoes to hug him back, not too intimately but not too casually either. Just as she begins to pull back he lands a very swift kiss to her cheek. I can’t tear my eyes from the scene, nor can I gauge Celeste’s reaction to it.
I swallow something hard and jagged in my throat and look down at the blank admission papers once again, cursing under my breath as I begin smoothing down the edges. I feel a pit form in my stomach at seeing something that wasn’t meant for me. I certainly didn’t even qualify to be a contender to Celeste’s heart so the least I could do was find her someone who was. Just not Jude. I shuffle my papers away and head back to the coffee counter, my break ending several minutes ago, but no one had needed me anyway.
No one needs you.
I try not to let that evil little thought bury itself too deep in my psyche, but I feel it setting up camp somewhere in the back of my brain. It was true, though. No one truly relied on me for anything serious. Yes, Rick and Vic asked me to help cook for family dinners, but that was formybenefit and practice. Yes, I work here at the cafe and if I were to take time off or was sick, sure my manager would need to find someone to cover my shifts so Dazey wasn’t overwhelmed working both registers. But has anyonetrulyneeded me? My parents have never needed me,drugs,yes, but me and my sister? No. We were unfortunatebyproducts of their youth. My sister barely speaks to me except for the occasional holiday text and check in to see if I’m still alive. I wasn’t an essential part of anyone’s life, not their immediate family, or work husband, best friend, or boyfriend. Realistically I knew it was because I don’t have much to offer, my childhood memories are vague and grim and I honestly just want to make enough money to pursue my only interest, cooking. I guess that categorizes me as ticking off another one of Celeste’s points on her list: loyalty to my love of food. I’d love to work in a real kitchen, be screamed at by real chefs, and make really delicious food that leaves people speechless. But I don’t know how to get there, or whether culinary school is the right choice or not. The indecision wears on me and I distract myself thinking about a few new recipes that I’ve been wanting to try recently as I clean out the tiny ceramic espresso mugs, letting the theoretical flavour combinations settle my brain.
“Hi,” a voice chirps from behind me. I whirl to find Celeste standing on the other side of the counter.
“Well, Hello Mrs.The Hair. Should I expect a wedding invitation in the mail soon?” I remark, aiming for a jovial tone but it comes out a little snarkier than I intended.
She huffs a quick laugh as her highbrows raise a little, “I wouldn’t go as far as thatMatchmaker,but he’s…” She looks into the air as if deciding which word to pick. “Charismatic,” she lands on.
“Well that’s better than a few other choice words,” I half joke. “But really, if he’s an ass I can tell him to go eat the curb if you’re not into him.” I state more seriously while I finish returning mugs to the shelf behind me, a tiny flame of hope in my gut begging her to ask me just that.
“Nah, he seems harmless enough. I can handle my own, Peggy. I’m a big girl.” Celeste beams at me with a sly smile and an adorable wink that makes my insides melt a little.
“I know you can.” I say, sliding a warmed chocolate croissant towards her from across the bar top.
“If you keep giving me free confectionery handouts, you’ll have to roll me out of here,” she chides but nevertheless begins gobbling down the sweet treat. I smile as she enjoys the food I’ve given her. Something warm brightens in my chest while watching Celeste eat something I—well, I only put it on a plate and served it to her but either way—I feel almost as gooey as the inside of that croissant.
The bell above the door chimes and I watch as Jude exits the building. I swallow the uncomfortable lump that forms in my throat remembering that Celeste was just on a date with another guy. A guy that I set her up with. A hell of thine own creation.My own croissant lays beside me untouched, my stomach unable to digest anything yet without peppering her with questions about her and Jude’s conversation.
“So what was the main topic of conversation?” I ask innocently.
She gives me a little nod with her hand over her mouth, trying to finish chewing before answering, her pink tongue darting out to lick a leftover crumb from her full lips.
“Mostly his wealth, but also what his plans are for post grad. Traveling,” she answers, and I notice a small dot of chocolate on the corner of her mouth she missed.
“Did you tell him your plan for medical school?” I ask absentmindedly, offering her a napkin, then tap my own mouth in indication.
She takes the napkin though clearly lost in thought. “No,” she lowers her gaze then gives her head a little shake and wipes at her mouth. She looks up to me again with a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. “Did I get it?”
A low chuckle escapes me. “No, may I?” I ask without hesitation, stunning us both into a moment of silence. Myquestion hangs boldly in the air between us. Her eyes lock onto mine as she dips her chin just a little to indicate a nod. I reach out gently, my thumb barely making contact with the seam of her lips. They part for me, just a little. My gaze drops to her lips as my thumb slowly wipes the dot of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. My feral brain has a passing thought of sliding my thumb between her lips and seeing how she’d react. But no, that’s inappropriate on so many levels.
Bad, Dominic. 1. She’s not yours. 2. You’re in public and 3. Most importantly, she did not consent to that.
I retract my hands quickly and glance around, remembering where I am and let a low slightly uncomfortable laugh escape my lips before turning and washing my hands in the sink. When I turn back Celeste’s cheeks are flushed the most beautiful shade of pink.
“Do you want a coffee?” I ask to try and distract myself from whateverthatwas.
“Please,” she answers quickly even though I know she just had one on her date.
Dominic Miller, she just finished a date with another guy and here you are wanting to stick your finger in her mouth, you sick fuck.
