Page 128 of Unapologetic Obsession
“You’re a guest,” he pointed out.
“I guess.”
“Which means you’re overdue.” He pulled two flutes from the tray, poured a generous stream of gold bubbles, and handed one to me. He clinked his glass against mine. “To my esteemed guest.”
The smile on his face was infectious. The champagne warmed my stomach, and I realized my hands had stopped shaking. “Is this what the crew does behind the boss’s back, drink his best champagne?”
“No.” There was a mischievous glint in his eye. “We also eat his expensive caviar and swipe the fancy toiletries.”
Despite myself, a giggle slipped out. The anxiety started to clear, and I pointed at the champagne. “Won’t you get into trouble for this?”
The smile on his face brightened. “Nobody comes back here except the crew. Come with me, and I’ll show you what else we get away with behind the boss’s back.”
He nodded at the door, where servers were filtering in and out with trays of food. The delicious smells from the kitchen called to me, and I followed my nose. Maybe they had lollipop chicken. It would make me feel a lot better than champagne.
When I cracked open the door, I heard the muffled thump of Latin music and the clang of pots. We slipped inside, emerging into the heart of the kitchen. It was pure chaos, but in the bestway. Sure, the staff were busy plating hors d’oeuvres, but they were also running on adrenaline and laughter.
A chef in a red bandana was cooking meat and singing along to “Livin’ la Vida Loca” that was playing on the portable speaker. Two servers were doing a salsa routine while weaving between stations, their feet never missing a beat. The dishwashers behind a mountain of plates were betting on who could stack the highest. No one batted an eye at the couple sloppily making out near the freezer without any care about workplace propriety. Four men were gambling with a card game and hurling insults at each other.
The sophisticated gala in the ballroom was less than fifty feet away, but it may as well have been another universe. I doubt anyone here would murder their sister for her inheritance or manipulate their fiancée with lies and deception.
It wasn’t until the chef noticed my fancy dress that he dropped his spatula with a clatter. A horrified expression crossed his face, not having expected guests to wander into their haven. The music screeched to an abrupt halt. Everyone froze in place, as if they had been caught with their hand inside the cookie jar.
Jace grinned, stepped up to the counter, and grabbed a plastic cup. “Relax, guys. Rose is cool,” he announced. “She’s the stowaway.”
That was all it took for the kitchen to accept me as one of their own. They knew if I snuck into this boat, I didn’t have the means to fuck with their livelihoods like the rest of the guests. I was one of them.
“Stowaway?” the chef asked sarcastically, giving my expensive jewelry a once-over. “She looks like royalty.”
The room burst into an off-key chorus of “Your Majesty!” with exaggerated bows. “Welcome, Your Grace.”
I giggled as the music returned to its original volume, and the couple against the freezer returned to dry humping each other. The lively kitchen was like an underground rave filled with vulgarity. There seemed to be an understanding that allowed the staff to party without any service interruption to the gala. One group would transport food and drinks to the ballroom. As soon as they returned, they participated in the shenanigans with a break, while another group swapped places to work the front. It was ingenious and exactly the escape I needed, seeing that a real escape was out of my reach.
“Shots?” Jace asked, pulling out a bottle of tequila. Before I could answer, he lined up a row of shot glasses. A bunch of people gathered around us at the sound of that word.
“What are we celebrating?” a petite blonde asked.
“Nothing,” Jace replied. “Rose had a shitty night, so everyone has to drink with her.”
“Aww, sorry to hear it, Rose.” The blonde squeezed me.
Another man placed a bulky hand on my shoulder. “Let’s drink till you forget.”
“We got you, girl.”
Everyone was at my side without so much as demanding an explanation. They were a ready-made family, and my heart warmed at the thought. I had stepped through a portal, where there were no judgmental eyes, calculated moves, or blindsided engagements.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, an image of Caden wrapping my bandages with OCD precision flashed brighter. Each fold had been perfectly aligned, not because he had the compulsive need for it, but because he thought the asymmetry might bother me.
He had twisted my mind into knots between his cruelty and tenderness. It made me wonder whether I could actually follow through with leaving him. If only I could understandthe reasons for his cruelty, then I wouldn’t feel so conflicted. Instead, I ping-ponged between wanting to get away and imagining a future with him.
I grabbed a shot and downed it.
Why couldn’t things be black and white? It would be so much easier if I just hated him.
Instead, I had loved him since the moment on that roof.
With a huge cheer, I took another shot with the group. Instead of the alcohol submerging through my brain, my mind was infiltrated with more images of Caden.
