A/N:
Wow, you guys. I am so overwhelmed by the response to chapter one!
Thank you so much to everyone who has followed and favorited. It means so much to have the support, and I am so happy to have you along for the ride!
I had a question about how often I will update. I am aiming to update weekly, but bear with me as there may be variations to the schedule here and there.
As promised, here is chapter two! I hope you all love reading it as much as I loved writing it!
BPOV
I ransacked my closet for the only pair of black heels I owned. The gorgeous pair of Badgley Mischka pumps were a lucky find at a consignment store the previous summer. They were marked at eighty dollars, but I'd been able to haggle down to sixty-five since they were off-season. I'd worn them once to Angela and Ben's engagement party. There was no way I could have possibly lost them.
I found your shoes. Do you want me to swing by?
I sighed in relief at Angela's text, responded with a quick yes, and thanked her profusely. With the shoe debacle figured out, I ran back to the bathroom to start working on the wet mess of hair wrapped in a towel on my head.
I was running late, of course. My shower took much longer than I'd hoped. A permit issue delayed the maintenance on the building's water main, and our water was still coming out in a pathetic sprinkle. I'd resorted to washing my hair in a mixing bowl filled with warm water, then jumped in the shower to rinse out the remaining shampoo. Conditioner was a whole other beast.
I blow-dried with a curling brush until I was satisfied with the bounce, then brushed on a light layer of makeup. A light shimmer on my eyes, paired with mascara, did a lot, the blessing of dark eyes and thick lashes. I slid on the one black dress I owned, a twenty-dollar thrift shop find. My door buzzed as I pulled up the zipper.
"Yeah?" I asked through the intercom.
"It's me," Angela's staticky voice answered back.
I buzzed her in and unlocked my door. She appeared a minute later while I stood by my entry mirror, swiping on a deep red lip color.
"Wow! All this for a restaurant job?" She gestured at my very atypical appearance.
"The place caters to successful business people. They want the hostesses to give an 'upscale vibe.' That's what the manager said anyway." I shrugged and grabbed the shoes from her. "You're a life-saver! Alright, what do you think?" I spun in a circle to show her the completed look, shoes and all.
"I think you look like a freaking model! How are you planning to get over there?"
"The L, how else would I get there?" I slipped into my jacket and grabbed my purse, ushering Angela out the door and locking it behind us.
"Be careful, okay? There are a lot of weirdos out there, especially at night."
"Don't worry. I've still got that pepper spray my dad gave me." I patted my purse.
"Good luck tonight! Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all about it!"
I gave her a thumbs-up as we hit the sidewalk and went in opposite directions. I quickly realized that forgoing stockings was a mistake. The air felt like ice against my legs, and my oh-so-gorgeous shoes were not meant for running toward the train.
I bounced on the platform at the station, checking every few seconds to see if a train was getting anywhere close. A loud chiming sound made me jump and then roll my eyes. I'd forgotten I'd changed my father's ringtone. After he'd called me six times on Tuesday, when he found out about the library situation, I decided I needed a warning when he called.
"Hey Bells, you at that place yet?" His question came out gruff like an interrogation instead of casual conversation. The cop in him couldn't help it.
"Not yet, Dad. I'm on my way."
"Listen, I've been researching the place, and I'm not sure this is a good idea."
"Oh my God. Seriously?" The train finally pulled up, and I rushed to find a corner seat where I could continue our ridiculous conversation with a little privacy.
"Do you know who owns that place?"
"Yeah, her name is Esme Cullen."
"Did you know she has links to organized crime?"
"Dad, that was years ago, through like a great uncle or something. It's just a part of Chicago history. I mean, is there even a mob anymore? I don't think that's something you need to worry about."
"I can guarantee you, Bella, organized crime is very real. It's not the history I'm concerned about. It's the fact that the place has popped up in numerous FBI investigations. There's a lot of speculation that the Cullen family is still very much involved in the 'mob,' as you put it."
"Really? Have they ever been charged?"
"Well, no. All of the investigations were discontinued. That doesn't mean there isn't something shady going on."
"The manager said the family does a lot of business with foreign clients. I'm sure some of them have links to shady stuff, but I highly doubt the Cullen family is doing anything wrong. They are supposedly a huge name in Chicago business."
"Bella, if you are dead set on doing this, please be careful, okay? If you see anything questionable, promise me you'll find something else. I can send you some money if you need it."
"I'm not taking your money, dad. But thank you. I promise if someone tries to make me an offer I can't refuse, I'll run the other way."
"Haha. Very funny."
"I'm almost to my stop. I've got to go. Do you want me to call you tomorrow so I can tell you how many non-criminals I meet tonight?"
"Yes, love you, Bells."
"Bye Dad, love you too."
I ended the call just as the train stopped. Squeezing my jacket shut, I rushed out, praying I wouldn't be late on my first day.
oOo
"Okay, so this is our seating chart. Everything is on the iPads, but you want to remember which app is which. One time I hit the reservation list when I needed the seating chart, and then I closed it and got locked out, and it caused all these problems," Jessica, Lauren's cousin, explained.
"Got it. The one labeled 'seating chart' is the seating chart app, and the one labeled 'reservations' is the reservation app."
"It's harder than it looks," she grumbled. "Let me show you the layout of the dining room. We usually break it up into five sections plus the bar. There aren't any tables at the bar, just the counters and stools, but people can order appetizers and stuff there."
"Okay, cool."
"In front, over there by the windows, is the five hundred section. No one important sits there because you can see it from the street. Well, unless they ask to sit there. Basically, if someone asks for something, and they're important, they get whatever they want."
"How do we know if they're important?"
"There'll be a little red flag on the reservation. You'll figure out who is important and who isn't as you get familiar with everyone. We have a lot of return guests. The sections over here are the one, two, and three hundred sections. In the back behind the wine racks is the four hundred section. The four hundred is really reserved for the Cullen family and their clients. There's a green flag next to those reservations."
"Okay, got it, red flag and green flag."
"Then in the back where those doors are…." She pointed toward the back wall. "Those are private rooms. The Cullens use those sometimes for really important meetings. Those have to be reserved through Esme."
"Is there a flag for those?"
"No. Those guests usually just walk in. They're almost always with one of the Cullens."
"How many Cullens are there?" I asked as she led me back toward our host desk.
"Obviously, there's Esme, and her husband Carlisle. Then they have three kids. Edward is the oldest. He's like a higher up in their firm. He's only in his twenties, so it's really impressive. Then Emmett is like a year younger than Edward, he does something at the company, but I have no idea what. He looks super scary, but he's totally nice. They also have a daughter, Alice. She just graduated from NYU, and she's dating Jasper. He's a lawyer, or something, for the family."
"I don't know if I'll remember all that." What had she said? Esme and Carl? Ed…win?
"No worries, I'll tell you if they come in. I'm pretty sure Esme is supposed to be here tonight."
"Ladies, you ready?" Riley patted the top of our desk, dressed in a tailored suit and holding a bottle of what looked like expensive wine.
"I think so." I gave a smile that came out as more of a grimace.
"Don't worry, Bella," he laughed, "Jessica will be able to walk you through everything. It's really not complicated. Just give the best customer service you can. Feel free to grab me if there's a question you can't answer."
With that, he walked over and unlocked the front door right in time for the first guests to pull up to the valet stand.
oOo
An hour and a half in, I was starting to get the hang of things. The seating chart was super easy to follow. Since we worked almost entirely off of reservations, we were able to plan seating ahead of time.
Esme and her extraordinarily handsome husband, Carlisle, had shown up with friends earlier in the night. She greeted all her staff by name, even taking the time to introduce herself and ask me about myself. No wonder her staff loved her so much.
I reviewed the seating chart one more time. We had a table that was supposed to open up soon and a couple that had arrived early.
"I'm going to go check on your table for you." Jessica smiled over at the couple. "Bella, if anyone else comes in, get their name and tell them it will be just a moment. I'll help when I get back."
"Sure, no problem." I was pretty confident I could handle the front desk flow for a couple of minutes.
I busied myself with restacking a few stray menus. I took turns balancing on one foot and then the other. My shoes might have been gorgeous, but they were not meant for extended periods of standing. Walking to the station after work was going to be torture. I would have to remember to bring a pair of flats with me for my next shift.
"Where's my mother?" I glanced up at the sound of a man's voice.
The man in question stood in front of the desk, tapping away on his cell. He had the most unusually sexy, disarray of auburn hair. His strong jaw clenched when his phone buzzed, and he typed furiously again.
"I asked you a question." He was kind of beautiful. "Are you deaf?" And, apparently, seriously irritated.
He finally looked up from the device in his palm. The icy glare he shot my way made a shiver crawl up my spine. My instincts screamed at me to run and hide. His emerald eyes were dangerous, deadly. So why wasn't I moving? Why was the rapid thud of my heartbeat exhilarating instead of alarming?
"I- I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" I stuttered.
"Yes! Where is my mother seated?" His voice came out in a velvet growl. I wondered what my name would sound like passing through his pouty lips. Could I make him growl? Oh my God, Bella! What was I doing? What the hell was wrong with me?
"Um, can you give me her name and I can see if I can find her?" I cleared my throat and fumbled with the iPad, trying to pull myself back together. His glare did not make the task an easy one.
"Are you serious right now?" he scoffed.
"What?" I paused, wide-eyed. He was terrifying… and sexy… and I needed him to leave so my brain would let me think.
"My mother. Where is she seated?"
"Sir, I would be happy to help you. I just need her name…." I gnawed on my lip, trying to settle my nerves. I noticed his eyes flick down to my mouth, his face pinched.
"Jesus Christ!"
"Oh, Edward! Your parents are in room two! It's so good to see you!" Jessica slipped behind the desk, nearly knocking me out of the way. She batted her lashes while she pitched her voice higher. Was this her attempt at flirting? She looked like she had something stuck in her eye.
He responded to her with a curt nod. He sent one last scowl in my direction, before heading toward the back of the dining room.
"Who was that?" I gripped the iPad in my hands to stop them from shaking. The encounter had left me confused, embarrassed, and for reasons I could not fathom, a little turned on.
"That's Edward Cullen. Totally gorgeous, right?" she giggled and winked, then motioned for the waiting couple to follow her to their table.
"Great," I moaned. Not even through a full shift, and I'd already pissed off the owner's absurdly hot, yet very possibly unstable, son.
EPOV
My day had been a shit show.
First, we find out someone had skimmed from a shipment coming in through Boston. Emmett and I suspected a new group of South African guys. They'd been hired by the ship's captain for the trip from Bangkok. Only a few handguns were missing, nothing extraordinarily valuable, but it was the principle of the matter. When we received a shipment, we expected it all to arrive.
Emmett was on his way to Boston with Alec. The captain of the chartered ship had worked for the Cullen family for years without incident, but that didn't matter. There's no room for fuckups in our business. Emmett would start with him and then hunt down the crew until everyone paid for their mistakes.
"Just a temporary reprimand for the captain, you got it?" I barked the instructions through my phone.
"I know, nothing permanent. Just some stitches and a cast for a few months, right?" Emmett laughed. He was giddy at the prospect of violence.
"Too much info." I reminded him. Our conversations had to be vague over the phone. While we had certain immunities, we weren't beyond the Feds opening a case on us. Our clients getting word of the Organized Crime task force sniffing around would put an end to many of our partnerships.
"Oh, yeah. I'll call you once we know more, okay?"
"Good." I ended the call right as I pulled up in front of my mother's restaurant. It was almost seven, and I was sure my phone would start blowing up with texts if I didn't appear at the table soon.
"Mr. Cullen, this one's a beauty! I didn't know you had an Aston Martin in your collection!" My mother's valet had been under her employment for years. One of a limited number of people I ever allowed access to my cars.
"It's new." I stroked the top of the sleek vehicle, admiring its curves.
"I'll take good care of it," he promised before slipping into the driver's seat and igniting the engine.
"You better," I mumbled as he pulled from the curb. I had faith the car would be returned without a scratch. He knew exactly what kind of people he was working for. He knew that a single slip could end poorly for him.
Every table in the front section of Esme's was taken. The dull murmur of conversations filled the air along with the mouthwatering aroma of Italian spices. My stomach grumbled as a server passed by with a plate of clam linguine. When had I last eaten? My morning coffee? God damnit, no wonder I was starving.
"Where's my mother?" I asked the hostess. Her back was to me. Her long chestnut hair cascaded down her back, accentuating her trim waist and generous ass. Last I'd heard, my mother was firing the girl because she was somehow totally incapable of doing her job. Maybe I could get a quick fuck out of her before she was let loose. That hair just begged me to grab and pull.
My phone buzzed, a text from Emmett. The South Africans were headed south. Mexico, no doubt.
I tapped out my response furiously while the fuckable hostess just stood there. God, my mother was right. The girl had to be an idiot. How hard could her job be?
"I asked you a question. Are you deaf?"
No response. Jesus. I glared at her. Her idiocy made the idea of taking her to the back and stripping off her dress a shit ton less appealing.
"I- I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" Big chocolate eyes gazed toward me. Doe eyes, the kind that screamed innocence. Maybe the girl was just inexperienced. If that was the case, I'd be happy to help her gain some experience.
"Yes! Where is my mother seated?" Between my arousal and frustration, my voice came out in a growl.
"Um, can you give me her name and I can see if I can find her?" She fumbled with an iPad, nearly dropping it.
"Are you serious right now?" I scoffed.
"What?"
"My mother. Where is she seated?" I'd been at Esme's nearly every week since I was a child. Everyone in the place knew who I was. How was she that confused?
"Sir, I would be happy to help you. I just need her name…." She trapped her lip between her teeth, pulling my attention toward her mouth. I wondered how her lips would look wrapped around…
"Jesus Christ!" I cursed myself. The girl was more trouble than she'd be worth.
"Oh, Edward! Your parents are in room two! It's so good to see you!" Jessica scurried over like the rodent she was. I'd never met a more desperate woman in my life. Her push-up bra worked overtime as she tried to angle herself to give me a view. Her tits weren't bad, but I'd heard from the kitchen staff that she'd passed around crabs over the summer. Nope.
I nodded, grimacing at Jessica's attempt to flirt. Her fluttering eyelashes made her look like she had a nervous tick. Meanwhile, fuck hot moron just stood staring at me wide-eyed. My mother needed a new front desk staff.
I beelined to the back, finding the door to room two cracked open. My conversation with my father played back through my mind as I watched my parents entertain their guests. If I could play their game, I'd be handed everything I'd ever worked for. I could do it. Marriage was nothing but another business transaction. I walked in, greeting the room with my most charming smile.
"Oh, Edward, you're finally here!" My mother not so subtly chastised me.
"I apologize. I had to put out a fire at the office." I kissed her cheek before pulling out my chair.
"Is everything handled now?" My father asked, more focused on his wine than actually wanting to know the details.
"Yes, Emmett is handling it."
"Edward, I'd like to introduce you to Senator Jenks and his wife, Sharon."
"Nice to meet you." I reached over, giving quick handshakes.
"And this is their daughter Kate," my mother added. She gestured to the blonde still at my side. The girl was pretty enough, slim, nice body. I could work with that.
"Kate, it's a pleasure." I smiled, turning on the charm. She looked at her lap and muttered a hello. A shy girl, apparently. No problem, I enjoyed a good challenge.
"Edward, your father said you may be taking more of his responsibilities soon?" The senator leaned in, eager to make my acquaintance. Clearly, he'd been told I was the one to make an alliance with.
"Yes, in my father's old age, he's lost some of his edge. He needed young blood to take over." My joke earned a round of laughter from the two couples. My mother swatted me on the shoulder. Kate just sat next to me, playing with the edge of her napkin.
"Wine, Mr. Cullen?" The server held a bottle of Merlot at my side.
"Sure." I leaned back, allowing her to partially fill a glass in front of me. I lifted the glass swirling the wine before taking a small sip and nodding my appreciation.
"Miss Jenks, is there anything I can get you other than water?" The server addressed Kate after my glass was filled.
"No, thank you," Kate squeaked out.
"Not much of a drinker?" I leaned close enough to make the innocent question seem intimate.
"No." She scooted to the far side of her chair. What the hell was that? I saw blushing and playing coy regularly, but this girl looked like she wanted to escape the room.
"Okay… So I hear you're finishing up an art history degree?" I tried again, keeping more distance this time.
"Yes." I could barely hear her mumbled answer.
"Yes?"
"Yes." She was clearly a master conversationalist.
"What made you decide on art history?" I schooled my features to be as welcoming as I could manage.
"I don't know." She shrugged. "I like the art museum." Okay, that's a start. I could work with the art museum.
"They had a Picasso exhibit there recently, right?"
"Oh. I don't know." Or not.
Was my mother kidding with this shit? I went back to my wine, letting Kate go back to her napkin. My father's eyes met mine, and he cocked his head toward the Senator. Right. Jenks' daughter might be a bust, but maybe we could get something out of the dinner.
"Senator Jenks, I heard you're up for reelection next fall," I said.
"Yes, I am. I hope I can count on your vote."
"We'll see." I smirked. We could guarantee him a win if he played his cards right. "How's the campaign going?"
"To be frank, we've got some contention this year. A young woman on the Chicago city council is doing well in the polls. She hasn't caught up to me yet, but she's closer than we'd like."
I shared another look with my father. He nodded slightly. It would be a smart move to get Jenks on our side.
"I think we'd be interested in helping your campaign. Let's set a time to meet over the next month."
"Thank you, Edward, that would be very appreciated," Jenks sighed in relief. He was as dirty as every other politician and had no skill set outside of politics to fall back on. I'd have Jasper digging up information by the end of the night. Little did Jenks know that from that moment on, we owned him.
We put in our orders, my parents raving about the veal until everyone at the table agreed to the dish… except Kate. She asked for spaghetti with marinara. Esme's was a well-known five-star restaurant, and she wanted spaghetti with marinara? Had my mother set me up with a fucking five-year-old?
"Kate volunteers at the animal shelter, Edward." Mrs. Jenks said after ordering.
"Do you? What do you do there?" I asked, no longer all that interested in the girl's life.
"I play with cats. Sometimes I walk dogs and pick up their poop." Jesus Christ.
"Kate, honey, really? That's hardly dinner conversation, and she does much more than that!" Mrs. Jenks tried to keep the conversation from completely derailing. I felt a little bad for her. They were obviously trying to find any possible match they could for their inept daughter.
My mother mouthed "sorry" when no one else was looking. I took a generous sip of wine and joined my father's conversation with Senator Jenks about the upcoming baseball season.
oOo
"Edward, I am so sorry! I had no idea she had… an issue." My mother squeezed my arm as we stood at the entrance of the closed restaurant.
"It's fine, Ma. We got a good business arrangement out of the dinner."
"You handled it very well, Edward. I am interested to see the terms you negotiate." My father patted me on the back.
"Well, it's fine things didn't work out with the girl because the Denali's want to meet up with us next week. Remember Tanya and Irina, Edward?"
"Oh, Christ! Seriously? Ma, no." Tanya and Irina Denali were the most stereotypical mafia princesses I'd ever met. We kept the Denali family as associates in our weapons trade only to prevent a war from breaking out in Chicago. They were small-time in weapons but a much bigger name in drugs. Almost all the opiate addicts in the city were using the Denali product.
"Why not? What's wrong with those girls? They're both very pretty, and they're part of our social circle. There would be no need to explain things to them."
"They're gold diggers, Esme," my father scoffed.
"They are not!"
"I'll do dinner with the Denali's," I said, slipping into my coat. "Who knows, maybe I'll be able to stomach one of them long enough to get through a wedding ceremony."
"Edward, you don't 'get through' a wedding ceremony! Your wedding should be one of the happiest days of your life!" My mother scolded.
"Right. Sure." I grabbed my jacket from a chair behind me, catching a glimpse of the empty front desk as I turned. "Hey Ma, why didn't you fire that hostess you didn't like?"
"Oh, I did. It was horrible, Edward! I ended up sending her home with a check for two months' salary, I felt so bad!"
"If I didn't know how you kept this business afloat I would be sure you were doomed for bankruptcy! Then who was the girl up here tonight that had no idea what the hell she was doing?"
"No idea what she was doing? What happened?"
"I came in and asked her where you were seated. She kept asking who my mother was. I mean Ma, seriously?"
"It must have been Isabella. How odd, I introduced myself to her earlier in the evening… you asked for me by name?"
"No, I… wait what do you mean you introduced yourself?"
"We just hired her this week, tonight was her first shift."
"Oh. Shit." Fuck hot hostess was new. Of course, she didn't know who I was. So, she wasn't an idiot after all. I'd kept away from my mother's employees in the past, but maybe…
"Oh no, Edward! Am I going to lose another hostess? What did you do?" Her eyes narrowed as she glared at me.
"Jesus, Ma! Nothing! You're not going to lose another hostess." I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. Although, that may have been a lie. I'd probably quit a shitty restaurant job if some asshole chewed me out for not knowing who his mother was.
"I better not," she said, leaning in to kiss my cheek, "I expect to see you at home for dinner on Sunday. Please be on time."
"Yeah, I promise." Another lie, I was never on time.
With a final goodbye, I slipped out the door and back to my Aston, which was still in pristine condition. I tipped the valet heftily for his competence. After all, I was only an asshole most of the time.