Page 60 of Fired


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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DOMINIC

Melanie lingered on my mind, although I didn’t so much as utter her name as I worked side by side with my brother deep into the night. Gio never came right out and said he was angry or disappointed. He didn’t shove me in the chest and demand answers as to why I couldn’t keep my zipper closed when it counted. He didn’t bring up sordid tales from the past and question my intentions. He just worked quietly and occasionally said something like, “Hey, Dom, hand me those towels over there, would ya?” or “Did you notice that the temperature in the big freezer was five degrees off today?”

I kind of wished he would call me out. Then I could explain to him that I wasn’t an arrogant kid anymore, and that Melanie really wasn’t just a good time to me. I thought about her in ways I wasn’t used to thinking about women.

But Gio didn’t ask questions, and he didn’t hand out condemnations, so I figured he didn’t want to talk about anything heavy. We had enough going on, so the fewer distractions that got in the way, the better.

By the time I staggered home and dropped into bed for a few hours, I felt like a guilty pile of shit. It could have been worse. If I’d had my way at the time, Gio wouldn’t have shown up, and Melanie and I would have fucked each other silly all over the restaurant.

I thought I was done being the selfish kid who had bailed on his own grandfather once upon a time and then committed a cruel act of revenge against a man I blamed for the family’s downfall. It turned out I wasn’t quite done being selfish after all.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix this situation, though. The best thing for Melanie, and for the family and Esposito’s, would be just to take a few steps back, apologize for my lack of boundaries, and make it a priority to maintain a professional work environment from now on.

And if my heart took a small beating every time Melanie Cruz flashed a smile my way, then that would have to be all right. My heart could take the abuse. I wouldn’t be good for her anyway. There was too much baggage strapped to my back, and it wasn’t going anywhere. Melanie deserved a knight in shining armor, not a bad-tempered workaholic with a shitty relationship history and a head full of family guilt.

She’d understand that. Maybe.

But as I mulled over my good intentions in my own bed with the lights off and my pants unzipped, my thoughts started going in another direction.

“Dom, don’t stop.”

Holy shit, that little kitchen episode had been hot. My hand automatically wandered south as I replayed the memory of finally getting my hands all over Melanie’s sexy body. I wasn’t ever going to forget a single detail. She’d been so into it, we practically started a four-alarm fire from the friction. If I had to guess, I’d say she wasn’t used to being touched these days.

Even though I’d only slept about six hours in the last three days, my dick was suddenly wide awake. The memory of her dissolving in my hands as she moaned and whispered my name was the best porn in the fucking world. I knew I wouldn’t get a minute of sleep until I did something about this pressure, so I kicked my pants aside and headed for the shower to take care of business in a cloud of steam.

And so what if I was picturing Melanie’s lips and Melanie’s body the whole time I jerked off? It wasn’t the first time I’d come in my hand with her face in my head, but it wasn’t like I was going to broadcast it when I got to work tomorrow. I sure wasn’t going to tell her she was the best imaginary fuck I’d ever had. She’d never know that I pretended she was right there in my shower, naked, wet, and kneeling as I used her mouth in a variety of indecent ways.

Still, a few minutes later as I panted against the smooth white tile of the shower stall, I felt guilty again. Erotic feelings aside, I really liked Melanie. I respected her as an employee and genuinely appreciated the job she did.

That was why I decided that when I saw her I intended to push all the other messy thoughts out of the way, profusely apologize for my lack of boundaries, and hope like hell that she didn’t quit.

By the time I finally fell asleep, it was into a brief, fitful rest. I woke up feeling groggy and irritable. I had two texts from Gio, who was already down at Espo 2, so I immediately called him back. The walk-in freezer needed a minor replacement part, but it was at a warehouse forty miles away. It was an inconvenient problem the day before the grand opening, but I told Gio I’d drive out to get it. I showered quickly and then ran out the door.

The painfully bright sun didn’t suit my mood. That was the blessing and the curse of Phoenix, though; a city that boasted over three hundred days a year of bold, brilliant sunshine. There was nothing you could do about it except stick a pair of dark sunglasses on your face and stay in the shade. I missed the variable seasons of New York, especially this time of year. Here in the desert, the brief autumn season handed out more comfortable temperatures but little else, no changing leaves or stormy skies or any cold bite to the night air.

As I sped along the city freeway that was distantly framed by blunt, brown mountains, I thought about the road trips we used to take when I was a kid. Grandpa Leo would drive us all up to the Catskills every October so we could stare at the dazzling leaves and pick a few pumpkins from local patches. In those early memories, before he became a surly teen and then a dipshit adult, my older cousin, Steven, would even come along with us. We’d sing along to the radio in the old Cadillac and enjoy a day away from the city as Donna laughingly scolded her husband for driving too slowly. Those were happy trips and happy days, before loss and ruin and bitterness. Whenever the calendar turned to October, I always thought of the Catskill Mountains, of my grandparents, and my brother. I even thought of Steven.

On the way back from the west side, the freeway was clogged due to an overturned tractor trailer, so I didn’t make it back to Espo 2 until around noon. I wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of checking out the problematic freezer, but I ended up running my hand along the length of the stainless-steel counter where the night before I’d taken a small taste of something I couldn’t have. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Honestly, I didn’t know what it would take for me to stop thinking about Melanie. I wanted her. More than that, I wanted to be with her. But I couldn’t do that, not now. I didn’t even know if I was capable of being the guy who would be worthy of Melanie.

After whispering a curse under my breath, I turned away.

“Hey, Gio!”

Two seconds later my brother poked his head through the open window between the display counter and the kitchen.

“Is Melanie still planning on being at Espo 1 this evening?” I asked.

Gio’s expression didn’t change when he answered, “As far as I know,” in a curt way and then asked if we could go over the monthly financials Melanie had emailed him yesterday.

“A lot going out,” I said, squinting at the numbers on the laptop.

“Yup,” Gio agreed with a troubled expression. “Far more than what’s coming in.”

I understood why he was nervous. We both had a lot invested in the success of Espo 2, but it was more important to Gio because he had a family now. This needed to work for him, and for Tara and Leah. I didn’t take that responsibility lightly. I’d work until I keeled over if that was what it took to give them the kind of security that came from success.

“We’ve been here before, man,” I reminded him. “Before we started this project we figured it would be tight in the beginning. We’ll make it happen, though.”

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