Where was I going to go after work? I couldn’t go back to Cecily’s. That much I knew. But could I really move back in with Gray? And once the house was sold, where did I go from there? Back to the motel? Gray had made me feel so confident in that house that I’d called and canceled my application with the other properties. I’d have to go back and reapply, which meant more money out of my pocket.
And until then, where would I be sleeping?
On the
damn street?
I pressed my back against the bathroom wall and placed my head in my hands. I wanted to spend all my time with that sexy billionaire. I wanted to spend all of my free time with Gray. I wanted to move back in with him. I wanted to wake up to him. But I couldn’t keep clinging to temporary things. I couldn’t keep hooking my ship to something that wasn’t a guarantee. I had to think about my future. I had to think about the long term.
And Gray was none of those things.
I leaned my head against the door and closed my eyes. I allowed Chicago to bombard my mind. Oh, how he made me feel. Pampered and beautiful, and sexy beyond a shadow of a doubt. I allowed my mind to wander. To dream about the day when he left. He’d get down on one knee and take my hand, smiling up at me with that beautiful smile of his. His lips would part and my heart would thunder, and he’d ask me to go with him.
To go home with him, leaving Stillsville and never looking back.
I opened my eyes as a tear leaked down my cheek. Even in my mind, it felt so real. So plausible. Could I allow myself to hope that someday he would do that? Could I allow myself to believe that Gray would care enough about me to want to whisk me away? He took me to Chicago. No clothes. No reservations. Just cranked up his car and left. Would it be too much to wonder if he would do it again?
Take me home with him and not make me come back?
I drew in a deep breath and wiped my tears away before I returned to my shift. And I was painfully aware of how people whispered. Snickered. Looked at me a little too long with their wandering eyes. I figured everyone in this town knew I was screwing around with Grayson, and they were gawking at my performance. I knew it was about me. I wasn’t an idiot. I didn’t know much about the world and its delicacies, but I knew gossip. I knew small towns. And every time a conversation stopped when I approached, I knew they had been talking about me.
The stranger from out-of-town making the rounds with the billionaire from out-of-town.
I was really beginning to hate this place.
“Michelle?”
“Yeah, Brad?”
“Can I see you over here for a second? Go ahead and cash your tips out.”
“But I still have fifteen minutes.”
“It’s fine. Go ahead and do it, then come talk to me,” he said.
Furrowing my brow, I worked quickly to cash out the rest of my patrons. I collected my tips and my percentage from the tip jar, then I took my apron off. I followed Brad to the back of the kitchen, trying to ignore the rolling of nausea in my stomach.
“We need to talk,” Brad said.
“About what?” I asked.
“I have to run a professional establishment. And anything my employees do that distracts from that professionalism can’t be tolerated.”
“I understand completely,” I said. “What’s happened, Brad? Did someone complain?”
“I really hate to do this to you because I know you’re in a tough spot, but I have to let you go.”
Let me go.
Let me go?
“What?” I asked flatly.
“It’s not going to work out. I have to keep the highest standards I can in this place.”
“It’s Stillsville, Brad. There are no standards.”
His face grew stern as I swallowed my tongue in embarrassment.