Barely Breathing

Chapter 8

Kane

The kitchen staff moved in slow motion, laughing and talking as they rotated supplies in the walk-in fridge without the slightest sense of urgency. One guy whose name I could never remember was actually sitting down on an empty, upside-down crate.

"Take your time, ladies," I boomed from my viewpoint just outside the open door. "It's not like we open in an hour and have a shitload of prep work to get done, right?"

What's his name sprang to his feet. "Sorry, Mr. Kane."

"You're only sorry you got caught," I growled. "I pay you above average wages and I expect above average work."

"Yes, sir."

The group of men worked double time now, silently stacking and organizing.

"Fuckers," I muttered as I walked away.

To say I was in a bad mood was an epic understatement. I was seeking out employees whose asses I could chew. It was the only therapy I could find for my rage. I went to my office, closed the door and sat down in my desk chair, scrubbing my hands over my face. Being an asshole to everyone who had the misfortune of crossing paths with me wasn't getting me anywhere. It'd been this way for almost two weeks now. Since the moment I'd walked out of Viv's place after our second date.

Now I was pissed off at world and even more pissed off at myself. Why the fuck had I cockblocked myself like that? I wanted her in the worst way, and knowing she wanted me too and I'd turned her down filled me with anger that simmered on the edge of boiling at all times.

And worse, I'd upset her. She was the first respectable woman to see me as all the man she needed. Not just a good fuck, but someone she actually wanted to be with. And I'd hurt her, walked out and never called.

Classic Matthew Kane. Ruining things was what I did best.

My gaze wandered to the photo of a beautiful, smiling little girl on top of a stack of paperwork on my desk. It had come in the mail yesterday and I'd spent so long just staring at it. She had my dark hair and eyes, but the rest of her was nothing like me. She was perfect.

Seeing my biggest failure was too painful. I turned the photo over and returned it to the stack of paperwork.

I'd been a fucking idiot to think I could ever change. Tailored shirts and fancy shoes couldn't change who I was inside–a selfish, miserable fuck who laid waste to goodness and beauty.

A loud knock sounded on my door.

"Hey Kane?" It was Felicia, one of the servers.

"Get out."

"But—"

"Get the fuck out," I growled.

She closed the door.

I was in no state to be around people right now. Too fucking bad I couldn't escape myself.

***

Viv

I was deep in thought when Marcus Anderson walked into my office. I unfurrowed my brow and returned his smile. At age thirty-sex, he was the youngest partner at my firm. He was also very easy on the eyes, with a tall, athletic build and pale blue eyes with corners that crinkled with laugh lines when he smiled. Kara had been trying to land him for months, though I told her sleeping with a co-worker, and a partner at that, was not a good idea.

"Viv, am I catching you at a bad time?" Marcus asked. "You look like you're in the middle of a big decision."

I grinned sheepishly. "Sort of. I'm trying to decide if I want these boots in brown or black."