Restore Me (16 page)

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Authors: J. L. Mac

Tags: #New Adult, #new adult romance, #erotic adult romance, #romance adult contemporary

BOOK: Restore Me
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“Come on, woman. I’m having the main course in
bed.”

A wicked smile plays across my face as I watch
his feet climb the stairs. I have no complaints. We may need to
have dinner in bed every night.

 

 

“Miss America.”

I hear Captain calling my name just like before.
It’s dark all around me and though this feels familiar, I can’t
help but look for the light beside the bed. My hands feel around on
the cool surface of the nightstand but I can’t find the lamp.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot. It’s just
me.”

I freeze and listen to his gruff voice. It’s a
comfort. It makes me realize just how long it’s been since I’ve
heard his voice. My chest feels heavy and achy with melancholy.
Somewhere in my conscious mind I realize this must be a dream, just
like the other one. I’m safe, I know Damon is beside me in bed, but
I still find myself nervously whispering.

“I miss hearing your voice, Captain.”

“I know you do. Jo, do you remember when you
found that book on the shelf with the wrong cover?”

I think back on our seven years together and
smile, summoning the memory. Remembering my times with Captain is
bittersweet. I would never give up these memories of him but
recalling them seems to be a lot like opening a wound.

“Yeah, I do. It was a fiction book with some
sort of self help book cover. It was so weird, huh? You wouldn’t
believe me until I went and got it to show you.”

“You can’t blame me for wanting to see it with
my own eyes. I couldn’t take your word for everything,
sweetheart.”

“Paper Mache,” I remember aloud. “It was a blood
and guts thriller on the inside with a How to Paper Mache dust
jacket.”

“That’s right. Paper Mache. The flour and water
French mess that kids slap over balloons to make models of planets
and crap.”

“That book thing gave new meaning to ‘judging a
book by its cover,’ huh?” I muse.

“Yeah. Things aren’t always what they seem, Jo.
Sometimes what you see isn’t really what you get.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

I wait a moment but he doesn’t respond.

“Captain?” Nothing.
He’s gone. Again.

***

 

 

The dream I had last
night has been the only thing on my mind all day. I had actually
forgotten about Noni showing up for work this morning until I went
to The Diner and for the first time in as long as I can remember,
she wasn’t there to greet me. I still had breakfast, alone because
Damon had an early meeting, but it wasn’t the same without Noni
there to chat with. Don’t get me wrong, I’m beaming on the inside
for Noni. She didn’t mention it much, but she hated spending her
life working in The Diner. But now that I was forced to dine solo,
I think I was probably going to The Diner all these years for Noni
as much as I was for the food and great coffee.

When I parked my Volvo and walked up to the
store, I saw her standing out front. It shocked me to see Noni in
regular clothes with her hair down around her face; I’ve only ever
seen her in a fifties-style waitress uniform with her hair pulled
back into a bun. She’s a beautiful woman, really; and she looks at
least ten years younger with her hair down. Her brown hair is
spattered with gray and her brown eyes are rimmed with light
wrinkles, but all in all, time has been pretty damn generous to
her.

I had to applaud her for having guts to just up
and quit her longtime job like that. I tell her that Margaret, her
boss at The Diner, looked like she was majorly constipated when I
was there this morning and we giggle for a minute or two.

I unlock the store and hold the door open for
Noni. She walks in and surveys the place. She sticks out two
fingers and wipes the dust from the counter where the cash register
goes then inspects the grime gathered on her fingers. It’s a good
sign in my book; it means she’s aware of cleanliness. It’ll be nice
having someone to share the janitorial duties with around here.

“First thing I need to know is why your coffee
is a million times better than the shit that Margaret served me
this morning.” I screw up my face just remembering the taste of
it.

“I’ll never tell!” She sticks out her chin and
holds her head high clearly proud of whatever the secret is. “Well,
maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

I nod, content with her answer. I walk Noni over
to where she’ll be working to show her what we’ve got going
already.

“So when will I meet my supervisor?” Noni
asks.

I arch my brows and purse my lips, at a loss for
an answer. I don’t know why she thinks there is anyone else working
here. “It’s just you and I, friend. The coffee bar is yours to run.
This,” I indicate the entire front corner of the store where the
coffee bar is with my hand, “is Noni’s world. This area,” I repeat
the motion with my other arm directed towards the cash register,
“is Jo’s screwed up little world.” I cap off my explanation with a
grin. She is staring at me like I’ve just told her pigs can fly.
What the fuck is the problem?

“It’s just that I thought I had someone in
charge of me and the coffee bar.”

I shake my head side to side. “No. It’s just
you. You don’t need a supervisor. I’ve watched you run The Diner
like a champ for years. It’s the whole reason I knew you were the
one for the job.”

Before I know it, Noni has wrapped her arms
around me in a tight hug.
I guess she’s happy to be here
then.

We spend the rest of the day brainstorming, but
the dream I had last night has been at the forefront of my mind the
whole time.

Not what you get. What you see isn’t always
what you get.
All at once a light bulb clicks on and I feel
like I know what my subconscious has been trying to tell me.
Damon.
I pull my cell phone from my pocket and send Brian a
text.

Not ten minutes later, my favorite gay man comes
sashaying into the store. “So what was soooo important that I had
to cancel my latte date with Jeremy? This better be good. Damon
gave me half the day off since he said he had some errands to run.”
He folds his girly arms over his chest and props out one
Sperry-clad foot.

I raise a brow at him. “What errands?”

“Honey, if I knew I’d tell you, but I don’t, so
what’s this about?”

“Don’t be a drama queen. I need your opinion and
you can have a coffee here, Noni’s been testing out the fancy
machines. Noni, come here!”

Noni walks over to where we’re standing and I
take a deep breath and spill the beans.

“So Noni doesn’t know this, but Brianna, you do.
Damon says he hates his mom and dad and has no interest in either
of them. Well, something about it has been bugging me. I just don’t
believe that he truly doesn’t want to meet Beverly. That’s her
name, Beverly. I saw it when I found his birth certificate. I’m
going to try to find her.”

I survey both their faces.
Shock and more
shock.

“Well, say something!” I put my hands on my hips
and stare at these two.

“It’s your grave, honey. I promise I’ll make
sure that your flowers are all coordinating.”

I punch him playfully in the arm then look to
Noni for her vote.

“I, uh, I don’t really know him very well, so I
would say follow your gut.” Noni smiles and pats me on the
shoulder.

“Yeah, see,
Brianna!
That’s called giving
advice. It’s a weird concept that friends use all the time,” I draw
out my words like a smartass.

He cocks up one perfectly arched eyebrow and
rolls his eyes. “Well, I support you both, but you know he’s going
to kill you, right? He’s not interested in a relationship with her,
and
he hates when you butt into his personal business.”

Brian has a valid point, but I don’t care. I
know that somewhere inside he wants something different than what
the outside is saying. It’s what the damn dream was all about. I
have to do this. I already know her name, now I just have to find
her.

“Thanks for your advice, girls.”

Noni starts laughing so hard she snorts and
Brian and I join in. The rest of day flies by with us sampling
various coffee drinks that Noni has whipped up and debating the
merits of adding more muffins or more cookies to the shop’s
ever-growing menu. Noni’s even thinking that once everything is
established, we can start offering light lunches. My brain is tired
and I’m wound tighter than a ten day clock by the time our day is
over.

Noni and Brian leave around five and by 5:15
I’ve given up trying to do more work and gather my things to head
home. With phone and keys in hand, I arm the alarm and I walk
towards my car. I look at the screen to check my messages and there
are two waiting for me.

 

Saw Grams today. She wants to see you. Love
you. –D

 

I quickly go to the other message and open
it.

 

Going to be late. Have some things to take
care of. Love you. –D

 

“Going to be late?” I mutter to myself. Where
the hell is he? I reply to his text and am lost in thought,
wondering about Damon, when I see Andy and Spot headed my
direction.

“Hey, Chaucer. Hi, Andy.” I point the key fob at
the Volvo and unlock the car, open the door, and toss in my bag.
“How’s he liking the new route?”

Spot plops down on his hind end and pants.

“He likes it. Truthfully, I think he likes
seeing you every evening better than the actual scenery itself. I
can’t blame the guy.” Andy smiles wide at me.

Laying it on a little thick
,
aren’t
you?
“All right, Casanova,” I say as I bend down and pat Spot’s
head. I look up at Andy watching me closely. He’s starting to give
me the creeps.
Time to go.
“See you later, guys.”

“If I’m lucky,” Andy muses aloud.

I ignore his flirtatious remark and get into my
car. Grams has requested to see me and there’s no telling what the
old bat has to say.

***

 

 

I march into Grams’
suite. Caffeine overload has me jittery as hell. I’m sure she just
wants to see me because I’ve been so busy with the store that I
haven’t visited in a while, but you never know with Grams.
Sometimes she springs stuff on me, like Handy Andy.

The first thing I see is Elise sitting in the
guest chair talking to Grams, looking poised and perfect as usual
in a pencil skirt, sleeveless blouse, and heels.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
She fingers her multi-strand pearl
necklace and I wonder what it is she does for a living. I’m sure
Damon has told me, she just makes me so uncomfortable that all
discussion about her goes in one ear and out the other. I plaster
on a smile and walk over to them.

“Hey, Grams. Elise.” I lean over and hug Grams
like I always do. Elise doesn’t even acknowledge me.
Bitch.
She just looks down her nose like she’s better than me.

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