been an appetizer. Too fast. A little taste, nothing more.
It only took me a couple of hours to realize I was doing a one-eighty on what I had told her the night before.
I couldn’t leave it alone. I wanted more of her.
I had to leave it alone, though. Because if things got heated between us and she quit, I would lose my job.
But, the feel of her beneath me…
We were professionals. We would just establish rules. Parameters. We could have sex and keep it out of the kitchen.
“Isla, I need to talk to you,” I said, after lunch service had ended and most of the staff had left.
“About what?” She breezed past me. “I need to get some arugula from the cooler.”
I followed her. Standing in the open doorway as she rummaged around on the shelves, digging into produce boxes, I lowered my voice. “About last night.”
She shot me a warning look over her shoulder. “No. We’re not discussing that. Not here. Honestly, not ever. There’s nothing to say.”
There was a hell of a lot to say. “Can I come over after work?”
Now she shot daggers at me. “I thought you said one and done, or something like that. I don’t see why you need to discuss anything with me and I really don’t see why that has to happen in my apartment.”
I took a step forward, against my better judgement. I wasn’t fond of the cooler because the door could easily close and leave me trapped in the small space. But I needed to talk to Isla, explain to her. “I didn’t handle things well last night. But I have to tell you–
Isla gave a small cry and shoved past me. “Don’t let the door close!” She made a lunge but it already clicked into place. “It sticks.”
“What?” I said, reaching out and twisting the door handle and yanking as hard as I could. “Why does this door lock?” I jiggled it repeatedly, harder each time.
“It doesn’t. It just sticks. But we’re still trapped.” Isla reached up and tightened her hair bun. “Crap. Who is still here? We need to text someone to let us out.”
“I’m not sure. I think Carla is here. But we can send a text to the work app. Even if no one is here, someone can come up to the restaurant and let us out.” I took a deep breath and tried not to panic. “Give me your phone.” Mine was in my locker.
“I don’t have it,” she said, leaning against the door again. “It’s in my locker.”
We were going to die. That was my only conclusion here. I closed my eyes but that made my head spin. I opened them again and reached for a bottle of sparkling water on the shelf. I twisted the cap off and took a sip, my mouth completely dry.
“Don’t drink too much of that or you’ll have to go to the bathroom,” she said.
Oh, great. I slapped the bottle down. “I feel lightheaded. I might even be seeing spots and my dead grandmother.” I leaned heavily against the metal rack.
“Sit down.” Isla reached out and took my hand and squeezed it. “Just put your head between your knees for a minute.”
I didn’t want to because that seemed like such a weak thing to do, but at the same time, it would be worse if I passed out while standing up. Which was entirely possible. I sank down to the floor and put my forearms on my knees. I rested my head on them. “I blame you for this.”
She sat down next to me. “What did I do?”
“You got into my head. I was so busy trying to talk to you, I forgot my golden rule– always have an escape route.” I stared at the gray vinyl floor and tried to make the spots that were dancing behind my eyes go away.
“I take it that means you don’t have your phone either?” Isla sat in the same position as me and reached out and patted my leg just a little. “The good news is as soon as the new sous chef arrives, he’ll come in here to get lettuce to start on salads.”
Nico and I had brought in a replacement for Martin from a restaurant Nico had worked at in the past.
He seemed like a nice guy. Quiet, hardworking. His name was Jeff and bent his head down and did his job. But that was eons from now that he was due to show up. A lifetime. “That’s