Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3)

“I did. Your buddy Felix is closing, you’re leaving at 7, and we are going to buy Skylar a birthday present.”

“Oh man, I don’t know if I’m ready for all that excitement.”

I flash her a smile. “Well, you better get ready.”

26

Virginia

I sigh to myself, replaying the perky, “Have fun, you two!” that Stacy called out as I left the restaurant with Rafe. It seems like I just got people to stop talking about me and Rafe and the epic, secret romance they have concocted in their minds. I thought denying and avoiding the topic would make it less interesting to gossip about, but somehow my discretion turned it from a “did they or didn’t they?” into “they definitely did.”

Whatever, I guess it doesn’t matter. I just hate the girls at the restaurant thinking they can go after Rafe now. Before, they understood he didn’t get involved with his employees, so even if they daydreamed and fantasized about him, they never actually thought they could get anywhere with him.

I changed all that.

That was not a thing I wanted to change.

It’s completely different when Rafe brings a random woman from the outside into the restaurant as his date for the night, and when co-workers that I have to try to like have the nerve to say the things they say about him in front of me. When I’m at work, I shouldn’t have to deal with my co-workers trying to pursue the object of my affection. That makes it a lot harder to enjoy coming to work.

“Felix is so pissed,” Rafe states, looking amused as we walk to his car. “Did you see his face? Make sure you never pawn me off on that little bastard again; if he gets his hands on my food, he might poison me.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe instead of avoiding people who want to poison you, you should stop making people want to poison you?” I ask him, opening up his passenger side door. “Just a thought.”

“I feel like you want to poison me, and I didn’t even do anything,” he informs me.

“I don’t like Stacy. It’s not you, it’s her. She doesn’t respect the boundaries of… the boundaries,” I conclude, not wanting to explain it. “As you mentioned when you fired Felix, we both want to be comfortable here. This is where I work. I spend more time here than anywhere else, and I’ve always enjoyed it, but…” I trail off, feeling stupid. He’s just going to think I’m being jealous, and one of the things he likes about me is that his admirers usually don’t bug me. Of course, I usually don’t have to work with them.

Surprising me, he says seriously, “I’ll tell Trent to talk to her about behaving appropriately. You’re right, I didn’t think about that. I didn’t flirt with her,” he adds, looking over at me.

“I know,” I say, looking down at my lap. “Everybody thinks we slept together, so it sort of opened up a whole new world of possibility for some of the girls.”

“Well, give me names, and I’ll close it back up,” he says, simply.

I look over at him as he checks his rearview mirror and backs out of his parking spot. I didn’t expect him to do anything about it, I was just venting my frustrations. But there he goes, being my hero again.

He’s so wonderful.

I sigh again, but this time my sigh is full of regrets because he’s so damn perfect.

“What?” he asks, glancing in my direction.

I shake my head. “Nothing. I just like you.”

His uncertainty melts and his easy smile returns. “I like you, too.”

After finding Skylar’s birthday gifts and getting incredibly distracted at the Sugar Factory, I’m just a little bit tipsy. Originally, I told Rafe we should stop in and buy Skylar one of those lollipops the size of her face to go with her gift. I don’t know if she’ll actually even attempt to consume it, but I can attach it to the nameplate with some curly ribbons and make the package really pretty.

The thing is, since we’re here and I’ve never actually consumed alcohol at the Sugar Factory, Rafe decided it was time. So now here we sit at the bar, and I am halfway to fucked up. He’s not helping me at all since he’s driving, and I’m approaching the point of not being able to see straight.

“Oh my God, why does it taste so good? I need to stop drinking it,” I tell him.

His arms are folded on the bar and he’s nursing a glass of water. That’s so sexy. Everything he does is sexy. I like when he’s responsible and he takes care of me. I want to sway over there and wrap my arms around him in true drunk girl splendor.

Sitting upright, I shake my head. No, get it together, Virginia.

“Drink all you want,” he tells me. “I’ll drive you home.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want the closers to see my car still there when they go home. Then everyone will be saying I went home with you. We have a grand affair, don’t you know? It’s the most fun thing anyone has ever talked about. They exchange so many sly looks. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into ordering a drink,” I deduce.