How Do You Like Your Eggs? Pt. 01

I shouldn't be so hung up on this man. Sure, the sex was good. No. It was phenomenal. Nathan was a generous and ravenous lover. I didn't leave unsatisfied. But, it was just a one-night stand. There is no chance I'll ever see him again. From the looks of his hotel room, Nathan is the type to frequent places like that, while I'm the type to work in them.

And those were the thoughts which pushed me out of bed that morning.

At a little past 7am, Nathan slipped out of bed to take a shower. I waited until I heard the water running and scuttled around like a mad woman, gathering my clothes and stumbling into them as I simultaneously made my way out of his lavish suite. I couldn't bear the inevitable awkwardness of the morning after, or the uncomfortable side-long glances. Didn't want to fight the rising hope that we could be more after only one night...

In the bright light of day, I was back to being Maxie. Just small, average, foul-mouthed Maxie.

I'm standing at the bar, waiting for my last table to finish their wine and call it a night when one of the other waitresses goes sailing by me.

"Someone out front for you, Maxie," she calls out, and is well out of earshot before I can ask who it is. I stare at her swiftly retreating form, at her bobbing blond ponytail as she moves away.

Confused, I head out front, slipping easily through the now mostly empty dining room. The candlelight is much softer now, casting winding, flickering shadows over the walls. The room is silent, save for the intermittent clink of silverware against plates and hushed female laughter.

Anyone who knows me knows where the find me on a Friday night, none of whom would have reason to swing by at such a late hour. Except Anaya, who has even less of a reason. Unless she's suddenly, inexplicably found herself husband and kid free tonight. Which is highly unlikely.

The foyer is empty when I reach the front. Either someone is playing a trick on me, or my mystery visitor has decided not to wait around. I move to the hostess stand and smile brightly at Ferrah, one of the other few women of color employed by this particular restaurant, besides myself.

"Hey, hon! Someone looking for me?"

Ferrah offers a sly smile, and my stomach does a little flop, uncertainty digging dainty fingers through my brain. A deep, familiar voice speaks up behind me and I jump, stopping just short of leaping over the hostess stand.

"Evenin', Maxie."

It can't be. There's no way! My mind whirs and clicks and then, finally, settles on static as I try to rationalize how the voice I've been imagining all night could be here, not only speaking to me, but addressing me by my real name.

I glance at Ferrah for help. The possible entertainment factor of the current situation has her lovely dark eyes wide and trained on directly on me.

I take a deep breath and turn to find Nathan standing only a few feet away from me. I hope he can't see the sudden trembling in my usually steady hands.

He's dressed in a dark gray suit tonight, looking as mouth-watering as the last time I saw him. His dark hair, which had been a slightly disheveled mess of soft curls is now brushed back from his face, making him appear somewhat older, and no less handsome.

I think I swallow audibly.

"So, a couple weeks ago," he says, his light tone in complete contrast with the sharp gleam in his eyes, "I promised this beautiful woman breakfast and, wouldn't you know, I managed to lose track of her in the time it took me to shower." He cocks a dark brow at me. "Now, why do you suppose she would slip out on me like that, especially after all the fun we had?"

I don't miss the emphasis on the word 'fun'. His look dares me to lie, to deny what we both know to be true.

I am aware of Ferrah still watching, waiting. Shock and embarrassment warm my cheeks, and places much lower, if I'm honest.

"Um... Sir..." I begin, and then stop, unable to find adequate words to get myself out of this mess. Am I supposed to deny knowing him and look like a total basket case, or do I admit to knowing him and risk being the topic of sordid discussion among my fellow wait staff members?

"Sir?" Nathan drawls before I can decide, and takes a few measured steps in my direction. His smile is just as dangerous as I remember. "Sir, huh? I like that. You'll have to call me that next time I'm inside you."

My stomach tightens and Ferrah and I respond in tandem.

"Well, shit," I sigh.

Ferrah lets out a loud, barking laugh. "Uh-oh!" she chirps, and I'm sure once I'm out of sight, she'll be recounting this little interaction for anyone who'll listen.

"Would you mind stepping outside with me for a moment?" I say, trying to hold onto what little bit of professionalism and dignity I have left now that a strange man has shown up and casually alluded to having me call him 'Sir' while he fucks me.

Nathan is still smiling, and I want to scratch his eyes out just as badly as I want to kiss him. I can barely look at Ferrah as I inform her that I'm taking a break.

I move toward the front entrance and shove out into the cool night. A gentle breeze swirls around me, bringing with it crisp leaves that dance around my feet before sending them scuttling off across the pavement. I take a few steps away, out of sight of the large glass doors and any nosey co-workers, before finally turning to look at Nathan.

I open my mouth to speak, but I'm not completely sure where to begin. Instead, what comes out is, "What the hell, man?"

He's laughing. He shoves his hands into his pockets and gazes down at me.

"I couldn't help myself."

"How do you know my real name?"

"I asked the hostess, of course."

I blink up at him, licking my suddenly dry lips. His eyes track the movement and it stirs a bit of warmth low in my stomach.

"Were you looking for me?" I ask. "How did you find me?"

I don't know how I'll feel if he has actually come in search of me, if he admits that he hasn't been able to get me out of his head, as I haven't been able to do with him.

A car passes on the street, blaring what sounds like old school funk.

"Funny story," he says. "I come to this restaurant a couple times a month. When I saw you at that hotel bar, I thought you looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place you. It didn't hit me until tonight, when you went gliding by my table." He pauses, peers at me closely. "I smelled your perfume first. When I looked up, I saw you. Then, I heard you laughing with some other patrons and it hit me like a ton of bricks."

He moves in close, almost invading my personal space with his warmth and his tantalizing scent. I have to lift my chin to keep my eyes fixed on his. He's much taller than me now that I'm wearing flats.

"I spent more than a few hours familiarizing myself with your body. I knew it was you."

He reaches out and uses a long index finger to push my chunky black glasses higher on the bridge of my nose. "Even with these. Which are adorable, by the way."

I am floored. And filled with a nagging sense of unease. I know it sounds crazy, and any other woman would be flattered by Nathan's proclamation, but I'm just...

In the bright glare of the streetlights, I'm aware that I'm standing in my work clothes, which probably reek of garlic, speaking to a man whose last memory of me involves a slinky red dress I'll probably never wear again. He dines regularly at the place I work, a place I can't afford to do so; he has the means to rent a room for a one-night affair in one of the top hotels in the city. Me? I'll go home to my little one-bedroom apartment with it's cheap, though reliable, furniture and thrift store baubles.

Nathan... well, everything about him, from his carriage to the suit which looks like it probably costs more than two weeks' pay from both my jobs screams success and wealth.

I am not Cinderella. This isn't a fairytale. I am not shallow. I am realistic. The only thing we could possibly have in common are the parts of his body which fit into mine. Hope, even if I wanted it, has no place here.

"Listen, Nathan," I begin, but the words fade away to nothing when his large, warm hand trails along my jaw, leaving tingling sparks of heat in its wake.

"If you're about to turn me away, I would urge you to rethink that, please."

His lovely eyes are soft in this light. His thumb ghosts over my lips, makes them tingle, and the warmth that had blossomed in me at the sight of him surges forcefully through my chest. My heart beats heavy, almost painfully, inside my chest. Need slithers through my stomach.

"Nathan, I'm not... I'm not the woman you met that night," I manage breathlessly.

"You are."

"I'm not."

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and I can vividly recall what they felt like pressed into the base of my spine.

"You think a flirty dress and a killer pair of high heels would change you so drastically?" He laughs, shortly. "Baby, the dress and the heels pulled me in, but they ain't what kept my attention."

I laugh, even though the gentle slide of his thumb across my lips is doing a number on my thought processes. "Of course not. It was my wet cunt that held your attention."

His eyes narrow. "Don't talk like that unless you want me to fuck you right here in the middle of this sidewalk, darlin'."

He might be joking. He might not be. Part of me thinks he isn't, so I bite my lip and wait for him to continue.

"The sex was astounding, sure, but I had a good time with you. Outside of the sex. More fun than I've had in quite a long time, if you know what I mean."

I do.

He's talking about those moments in between, when he'd absently brushed a hand along my side and discovered I was maddeningly ticklish. Or, when, as we'd caught our breath after a particularly strenuous bout, I'd dazedly buried my nose in the warm, fragrant line of his neck and began humming random notes of a song I could barely recall when he'd asked me about it later. Yes, those moments. Those moments when I'd forgotten to be Jade, and Maxie had slipped out with warning.

He presses in closer and the scent of his cologne washes over, bathing me in the memories of our single night together. His palm slips along the exposed skin of my throat above the starched collar of my shirt.

"Don't get me wrong - Jade is sexy. But, you've got this innocent little librarian thing going on right now. And that's just as sexy."

This time when I laugh, it's pure and comes from the pit of my stomach.

"That's funny to you," he says.

I nod, my laughter causing tears to well up in the corners of my eyes. "I am a librarian, Nathan. I work here part-time."

He does a slow blink, then curls his fingers around the knot of the tie at my throat, uses it to pull me in flush against him. "Hot damn, woman," he breathes against my lips. "When are you finished here?"