Green Eyed Daydream #Wattys2016

Chapter 10

Tyler's POV

Sitting in the booth across from Alex and Tiffany at the Tavern is nearly unbearable. Their arms are intertwined, and they keep nuzzling each other like two animal cubs, or some shit. I'm happy for my sister, but damn, I am starting to feel really fucking awkward witnessing them getting all handsy. I am relieved when Daniel and Calvin show up. They are two of the best line cooks from our restaurant, and I enjoy their rowdy company.

"Hey, if it isn't Mr. Bi-coastal," Calvin greets me, with a slap on the shoulder.

"How was New York?" Daniel asks, as they both take a seat in the booth, making the lovebirds take a break from worshipping each other and scoot over to the middle.

"The Loft is doing really well. There was a good amount of press after the grand opening and traffic hasn't slowed down since. The investors are pleased," I tell them. "Also, we just brought a new chef on board from London. He's got some impressive technique."

"But he's still not as good as the original gangsta, am I right?" asks Calvin, raising his hand to high five my sister.

She slaps his hand hard.

"No. Tiffany is still the queen bee of San Francisco. No one comes close," I compliment my sister. She really is a very gifted chef. I am lucky to have her work at my restaurant.

"Just wait till I roll out the new seasonal menu for summer, you're gonna get that Michelin star," Tiffany boasts.

The waitress comes over and we order a round of beers.

"Who else is coming?" I ask, checking the time on my phone and noticing that it's half past seven. Still no Carrie.

"Oh, I know why you're asking," Tiffany says, and winks at me. For a moment I feel exposed, until she speaks again. "Shelly's on her way, don't you worry. She just texted me." Tiffany gives me a wink. I don't know why she's convinced I give a damn about Shelly. I may have mentioned that she was attractive at one point, but I'm not even remotely interested in her.

The beers arrive, at the same time as Shelly saunters over to our table. She's dressed to the nines-high heels, a low cut short strappy dress, and tons of makeup. Usually Shelly looks pretty well put together as the hostess of our restaurant, but this is just overkill. She's a pretty girl, but trying way too hard.

"Hey everyone," she greets us, and scoots to sit down next to me. She sits so close that her naked thigh touches mine. I catch a whiff of her perfume, and it's so strong that it's making me feel kind of nauseous.

"Thanks for calling me out tonight, you guys. I was, like super bored," she waves her hands around, making the million metal bracelets she's wearing jingle loudly.

"Alex, you're a bit quiet this evening," I say, taking a sip of my beer.

Alex looks up from his phone. "Yeah, I'm just texting my friends. Doesn't look like they can make it," he says, returning his gaze to the screen.

I feel my heart drop. Why am I having such a strong reaction to her not coming? This is ridiculous. Absurd, really. I know nothing about this girl, other than that she has an obnoxious boyfriend, and she's a damn good kisser. Who gives a shit if she's not coming? I mean, do I really care if I ever lay my eyes on her again?

And just as I'm pathetically trying to convince myself of what I know to be bullshit, I see her. She still hasn't spotted us, and is slowly making her way through the crowd at the bar, but I can't tear my eyes away from her. I would recognize her in a crowd of fucking millions.

Of course she looks even better than I remember. Her hair is not messy, as it was that night, it's up in a neat ponytail, making her look even more fucking adorable. My eyes look up and down her body, and I stare at how her tight jeans hug her hips. I remember grabbing those hips, and parting her thighs, and...