Chapter 10: A vintage taste of surrender
The silence between them over the next few days was a living thing. It wasn't the cold, hollow distance from before. It was a charged, waiting quiet, thick with the memory of her tongue on his palm and the unspoken terror that had sparked their hallway clash. They moved around each other in the bistro with a new, dangerous awareness. A glance held a second too long. A brush of arms as he passed her at the wait station sent a visible shudder through them both. The argument had cleared no air. It had simply redirected all that chaotic energy into a simmering, potent lust that threatened to boil over at any moment.
Frank, of course, was in his element.
It was a Tuesday evening, the post-dinner lull. The last table had paid their bill ten minutes ago. The bistro was in that peaceful, between-states quiet, the jazz playlist soft, the lights dimmed for closing. Alice was at the POS terminal near the bar, finalizing the day's tip-outs, her back to the room. Heath was behind the bar, meticulously polishing already-gleaming wine glasses. The space between them hummed.
"So," Frank's voice, rich with amusement, cut through the quiet. He leaned his portly frame against the end of the bar, a wide grin on his face. "The silent treatment's a new look for you two. Very dramatic. Very... soap opera."
Alice stiffened but didn't turn. Heath didn't look up from his glass. "Just tired, Frank. Long day."
"Oh, I bet," Frank chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Must be exhausting, all that... unresolved tension you've got vibrating across the room. I'm surprised the wine bottles aren't rattling." He pushed off the bar and walked slowly towards Alice at the terminal. He stopped just behind her, lowering his voice to a stage whisper she knew Heath could hear. "He's been staring at your back for fifteen minutes, sweetheart. If looks could undress, you'd be in your birthday suit."
Heat flooded Alice's cheeks. She kept her eyes glued to the screen. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?" Frank's grin was audible. He looked over at Heath. "Hey, boss. You need Alice to turn around so you can stare at the front instead? More to look at, I'd wager."
Heath finally set the glass down with a soft clink. "Frank, don't you have invoices to file?"
"All done. Now I'm just enjoying the floor show." Frank sighed contentedly, folding his arms. "You know, back in my day, we'd just sneak into the walk-in cooler. Quick, cold, efficient. None of this soulful, angsty polishing."
That did it. Heath's dark eyes snapped up, meeting Alice's in the reflective black surface of the POS screen. In the distorted reflection, his gaze was a direct, burning line. See? it seemed to say. Everyone can see it.
Frank, satisfied he'd poked the bear, gave a little salute. "I'll be in the office, counting pennies. Try not to break anything expensive with all that... energy." He waddled away, his chuckle fading as the office door clicked shut.
The bistro was truly empty now. Just the two of them, the quiet jazz, and the ghost of Frank's teasing hanging in the air.
