You are mine

Chapter Eight

I'm sad to say goodbye to Romy and Jackson yesterday. I miss them already. It was good seeing my friend. Maybe next time I should be the one to go see them.

Shit, I'm going to be late for work if I don't move my ass. I say inside my head, looking at the time.

With one long sip, I take the rest of my second cup of coffee. I ran to my room to quickly remove my pyjamas to put on my green t-shirt and a pair of black pants. On the t-shirt is written Francois' dinner in a golden colour. I'm just glad that Francois let women wear pants at work. It's not that I don't like dresses, but with pants, you are sure that you can keep your dignity. What if I make a wrong move with the dress and my panties are exposed for everyone to see.

Nope, I don't need that kind of attention.

Once I brushed my teeth. I lock the door of my apartment. As I pass in front of Owen's place, I can't help myself, wondering if the girl from last night is still in there with him.

I shake my head as I keep walking. This is bad. I have to stop this. It was just a kiss. It meant nothing.

Stupid kiss.

Stupid Owen.

Stupid me, to let it happen in the first place.

"Tailor, wait!" I hear Lola shouting my name before I have the chance to step out of the building.

"Hey, Lola. I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry. I'm going to be late for work." I look at my watch. "Make it fast."

"I know it's at the last minute. I was just wondering if you want to go out tonight. Harvey was supposed to go out with me, but he has an emergency. Since my mother has Mathew tonight, I don't want to spend the night alone in my apartment. I need to go out. So are you interested?"

Tonight.

Mmm. I have nothing better to do, and it will help me, distracting myself from a certain someone to whom I will not say his name.

Owen. Owen. Owen.

Shut up!

Who knows, if you stay you probably hear him having fun with someone else again. The little voice in my head keeps saying.

"I'm in!" I nearly shout.

Lola hugs me. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Well, I guess she truly needs to go out tonight.

I look at my watch again. "I'm sorry, Lola, but I truly have to go now."

"See you tonight." She says as I step outside.

One of the reasons I want to keep my apartment is that it is close to my work. I don't have to drive or anything when I'm going to work. It's good for the heart. It takes me about fifteen-minute to walk over there.

"Tu es en retard." I hear Francois talking to me in French as I step inside his dinner.

I shrug, looking at him. "I'm sorry Francois, but I didn't quite understand what you said to me. Can you please say that in English please?"

He folds his arms in front of him. "You are late."

I look at the clock on the wall. "I'm not late. I still have five minutes before my shift starts."

He moves his finger, pointing at me. "You are lucky that I like you. Hurry up, before I fire you."

I know he would never fire me, but I won't push my luck. I run to my locker to put my coat and my purse in it. I grab my pen and the notepad and place them in my back pocket.

"Someone's late," Carl the cook teases me with a smile on his face.

I roll my eyes. "Carl, go back to your stoves before you burn something."

"You are lucky that I'm a married man because you won't be able to resist me." He has humour in his eyes.

I shake my head. He would never betray his wife. He loves her too much to do this to her. They've been together ever since they were fifteen years old, and never parted after that.

"Carl Mitchell Guerin, if I didn't love you I would kick your ass." His wife Molly warns him.

"Baby, you know I only love you." He takes her hand to leave a kiss on her skin.

Someone clears their throat. "Au travail les enfants," Francois warns us. "Come on people, we have customers."

I go to pick some menus to bring to the customers. "So, how are things going between you and Elliot?" Molly is curious to know.

Oh right, I didn't tell her.

"We broke up."

She frowns. "How come?"

"He cheated on me," I whisper so no one else hears me.

"Bastard!" She lets out.

I smile as I look at the people sitting around the table. "Good morning, and welcome to Francois' dinner. Here are the menus. I will let you look at it, and come back to take your orders."

An hour had passed, and everything went smoothly until I hear the doorbell ring.

I turn my head, and who do I see stepping inside, Owen of all people.

"Shit." I protest as I see him picking up a table in my section.

Molly stops walking, looking where I'm staring. "What?"

"That's my neighbour." I frown as I see Owen winking at me.

I know he's doing this on purpose.

He's not alone, he's with another man, maybe a friend. I snort. Owen has a friend. I wonder who that's like. I wonder who that is. I had never seen him before. Then again, I never met one of his friends. I only saw him with women.

Molly leaves my side to take some orders.

I breathe deeply, taking two menus in my hand. Don't show him how he affects you. I think to myself.

You can do this.

I walk toward his table, and the moment I stand beside him, someone shoves me toward him. I lose my balance as my body falls toward him. My body reacts as it feels Owen's strong arms around it.

While I steady myself, with embarrassment. Molly mouths to me. "You're welcome."

That bitch!

She did this on purpose.

I clear my throat as I readjust my t-shirt after Owen helped me stand up. "Sorry about that."

The one that's with Owen is looking at us with a funny expression.

"Thank you, Owen." I can't even look at his eyes right now. I feel so embarrassed.

"Here are your menus. I will let you sometime before I come back to take your orders." I smile the best I can as I walk away.

"Blake, I can't believe you let her call you Owen?" His friend says to him.

"Shut up!" Owens growls.

I wonder what he meant by that.

His name is Owen. How else am I supposed to call him?

That's not what bothers me the most. I can't believe how my body just reacted with Owen's arm around me. I don't want that. I know how this is going to end. I heard it almost every night.

Great, now I sound like I'm jealous.

Which I'm not.

Liar, liar, pants on fire. I hear a little chant in my head.

Ugh, I hate my life!

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