Page 38 of Dreams and Desires

Her brow creeps up, and I brace myself for the sarcastic remark surely coming next. “Right, nothing. That’s why you looked like you were about to spontaneously combust back there.”

I press my fingers into my temples. Everything’s tight behind my eyes. “It’s not simple, Dominique. It’s a mess.”

Dominique chuckles softly, her tone lightening the mood just a bit. “Seems like he has that effect on everyone. But, Juniper, you did save Cody by standing up to him and Brian. That took a lot of guts, more than most people have.”

I frown, the memories of the town meeting rushing back, the way I had to fight to be heard. “Brian is your husband, Dominique. How do you deal with him?”

Dominique sighs deeply, her fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Brian... he’s not an easy man to live with. He’s ambitious, stubborn, and sometimes downright infuriating. But there was a time when he was different and more caring. I guess people change, or maybe they just show you who they really are over time.”

I nod, understanding more than I care to admit. “It’s just... Zade is so frustrating. One moment he’s all charm and intensity; the next he’s sarcastic and closed off. I don’t know what to think.”

Dominique reaches over, squeezing my hand gently. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. Just focus on what makes you happy. And if that means working at the hotel, then do it. But don’t let fear hold you back from what could be something good.”

Her words are comforting, and I feel a small sense of relief settling in my chest. “Thank you, Dominique. I appreciate it, really.”

As we pull up to my house, I give her a small, grateful smile. “Thanks for the ride. And for everything else.”

She smiles back, her eyes warm and full of understanding. “Anytime, Juniper. And remember, I’m here if you ever need to talk about anything.”

I nod, stepping out of the car, feeling a bit lighter than before. “I will. Goodnight, Dominique.”

“Goodnight, Juniper,” she replies, watching as I walk up to my door, the concern still evident in her gaze.

Once inside, I lean against the door, taking a deep breath, the events of the day finally catching up with me. My mind is still a whirlwind of emotions, but Dominique’s words have given me some much-needed clarity. I need to focus on my work, on proving myself in the kitchen.

But deep down, I know that staying away from Zade is going to be a lot harder than I’m willing to admit.

Chapter Seventeen

Zade

It’s been two weeks since I last saw Juniper up close. Two weeks of watching her from a distance, feeling the cold shoulder she gives me every time she spots me in the hotel. Every time I catch sight of her, it’s like she’s got this force field around her, this invisible wall that screams, “Stay away.” She’s tough; I’ll give her that. Stubborn too, like trying to get through a brick wall with a butter knife. But this? This has gone on long enough. I’m done playing this game of cat and mouse. I’m the cat, and it’s time to catch the mouse.

I arrive at the hotel earlier than usual, taking the elevator down from my suite. The lobby is still quiet, with just a few staff members moving around, getting ready for the day. My mind is buzzing, and no amount of coffee is going to calm it. It’s ridiculous how much space Juniper is taking up in my head, like an annoying song you can’t stop humming. But that’s not something I’m ready to admit out loud. As I stride into the lobby, my eyes immediately lock onto her. She’s wearing this short, flowy dress that barely reaches her knees, with those high boots that make her legs look incredible. There’s no way she’s working in that. She’ll change into her kitchen outfit when her shift starts. But right now, she looks too damn good for me not to call out her name and head straight for her.

“Juniper, wait,” I call out. My voice cuts through the silence of the morning. She halts, her back stiffening, but she doesn’t turn around. Fine, if she wants to play it that way. “We need to talk.”

She stands there for a moment, her posture tense, before finally turning halfway, just enough for me to see the annoyance in her eyes. “I have work to do, Zade,” she replies, her tone cold as ice. She’s already moving towards the kitchen area, as if she’s eager to escape me.

But I’m faster. With a few quick strides, I step in front of her, blocking her path. She glares up at me, that fire in her eyes blazing brighter than ever. “No, we really need to talk,” I insist, not backing down an inch.

Her jaw tightens, and she crosses her arms over her chest, her body language screaming defiance. “Zade, I said no. I don’t have time for this.” Her voice is firm, but there’s an edge to it—a hint of something she’s trying hard to hide. Maybe it’s fear, or maybe it’s just anger. Either way, she’s not going to make this easy.

I suck in a breath through my nose. It doesn’t help much. “Just hear me out.”

My voice comes out steadier than I feel. I shift a little, trying not to come off pushy. “How about tonight? We go out.Not a drive-thru or some half-plan. Like, a real date. You deserve that. Right?”

Her eyes widen in surprise and she freezes. Her hands go still on the cup. For a second, I think I see something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or interest—but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. She shakes her head, her arms tightening around herself like a shield. “No.”

I can’t help but smirk at her defiance. It’s one of the things that draws me to her. “Why not? You work hard, Juniper. You could use a night out.”

Her gaze flickers around the lobby, clearly aware of the eyes watching us. Her colleagues are starting to take notice, their curiosity evident as they glance our way, whispering among themselves. She shifts uncomfortably, obviously hating the attention. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters, her eyes darting everywhere but at me.

“Think of it as a way to unwind,” I suggest, stepping a bit closer. My tone drops to a low murmur just for her. “And don’t worry; I promise not to bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

She looks torn, her resolve visibly wavering. I can almost see the wheels turning in her head as she weighs her options. She knows that saying no again would only drag this scene out longer, and with everyone watching, she’s clearly not in the mood for more drama. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she bites her lip—a nervous habit, I’ve noticed—and gives a small, reluctant nod. “Fine. One date. Just one.”

“There we go,” I say with a grin, unable to hide my satisfaction. “You won’t regret it. I’ll see you at eight.”

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