Killer Abs - C.M. Steele Page 0,1
uniform, so he stared at my bared legs and then lingered on my breasts. I wanted to punch him in his dick. “Yes, I know it was very important, but there’s nothing I can do.” I couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but from the nervousness in Mr. Andretti’s voice, I took a guess that the Tony Soprano wannabe didn’t like being told no.
“Yes, well, there is one thing. I can send over one of my chefs to cook tonight, but they would need a stocked kitchen to cook.” I hoped he was talking about Diego, who was the master chef.
“Yes, Mr. Kazakov. I’ll send Maria over today. The best I have. Okay.” He handed the phone back to Igor.
“What the hell? I’m supposed to go cook for a mobster,” I exclaimed out in the street, not giving a shit if he could hear me. That pissed Igor off, and he grunted his disapproval as he walked off to talk to his boss.
Remembering I was in public, I lowered my voice and said to my boss, “I can’t cook for him.”
“Why not? You need the money, and it’s not like he hasn’t had your food before.”
I supposed he had a valid point. “This is only temporary, right?”
“Yes, just until I reopen. Please. We both need this.” His pleading look weakened my defenses, and I reluctantly agreed.
“I thought he only wanted it for the night?”
“No, he wants the full two weeks since the restaurant isn’t going to be open.”
“Da.” Igor ended his call, tucked the phone away, and then stalked back over to us.
“Come with me.” He grabbed my wrist and led me to the SUV a little too roughly for my taste. He looked at me more than he did the food I prepped. It was as if he wanted to sample me as well.
“Damn, calm down, beast boy. I have to use these babies to cook with, you know.” He let go and grumbled something shitty in Russian. “Besides, I have my car right here.” I pointed to my twenty-year old Hyundai Sonata.
“No, you will come with me. The boss will not let that rubbish on his property.” Damn, well that was mean. Not all of us could afford the latest models or same colored doors and shit.
“Um. Are you going to drive me home as well?” I didn’t want to be confined with this man for any amount of time, but I had to know what they had in mind when it came to my duties for their boss.
“When your two weeks are up, yes.”
He opened the passenger door, but I froze in my spot. “What? Are you telling me I have to stay there?” I exclaimed, glaring at him.
“Yes. I’m not going to make daily trips to pick you up so you can spend the night whoring around.” I ignored his bullshit because I didn’t want to let him in my private life. Not that I had one, but that wasn’t his business.
“I thought I’d only be serving dinner with the occasional lunch. I didn’t realize I had to make all Mr. Kazakov’s meals. I do have a life outside of work, you know.”
“I don’t care what you have to do. For the next two weeks, you’ll work and stay at Mr. Kazakov’s estate, so deal with it.”
Asshole. “Well, then, I’m going to need some clothes to wear. Can we at least stop at my apartment?” Honestly, I didn’t care for him to be anywhere I lived, but it didn’t look like I had a choice.
“Fine.” He took me there and followed me inside as if I planned on making a run for it. Running crossed my mind, but where to and what for? I needed the money, and they only needed a chef. I’d mind my business and cook my food. Grabbing my phone charger, I packed it with some clothes for a week. They’d just have to let me do my laundry or have a day off.
We drove in silence all the way to the store. Spending an hour perusing the aisles with Igor the ogre wasn’t pleasant. Several people that I’d known for years bent their brows in blatant curiosity and suspicion. The goon looked just like one.
“You could have waited in the car, you know?” I informed the silent brute.
“Well, who the fuck do you think is paying for it?”
“You are such a pleasure, aren’t you?”
“One day, little girl…. One day I’m going to make you pay for that mouth of