Sexting My Ex’s Dad (Forbidden Silver Foxes)

18. Stella

18

STELLA

“ M y back is killing me,” Isobel complains, shooting me a look. “I can’t believe I did so much labor without getting paid.”

I shake my head, with a smile on my face. She’s so dramatic. “Well, I appreciate your help.”

“You’d better.” She pouts. “The location is a bit…iffy. I did like the condo you picked out though. It’s very cute. It must have caught a pretty little penny, but I guess you can afford it now.”

Even though I technically could, I’m still not frivolous with money, despite how much I make. “I actually got it because someone cut their lease early, so the payments were lower.”

Isobel raises an eyebrow at me. “You’ll be frugal to the end, huh?”

“Yep.”

As much as I enjoyed living with Anastasia, I didn’t want to wear out my welcome, so I’d constantly kept an eye out for something. When this little condo had popped out, and at the price range, I hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ despite the fact that it’s in a neighborhood that I could probably get shot in…my mom had always lived in houses like that too.

Isobel had been very kind to help me move in before our shift…we almost didn’t make it. I guess I didn’t know how much I really had gotten throughout my relationship with Owen. It’s not like he’d taken any of the furniture with him.

I arrange cocktail glasses on the shelves behind the bar. It’s a slow shift; the morning always is, giving me ample time to chat with Isobel as she polishes silverware.

“Hey, Stella,” Isobel says, leaning in close, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “What’s the deal with that Elio guy? He’s been coming in here every day just to see you.”

I freeze for just a moment. Elio Lombardi – my ex’s dad who has personally made me his new target. I thought that after our encounter in the private room, which was steamier than should have been possible, that he would leave me alone and move on to his next conquest. Because, that’s what men like him do, right?

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Shrugging nonchalantly, I reply, “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Isobel’s gaze flickers over to the entrance, as if expecting him to appear at any moment. She sighs dreamily, her infatuation clear. “God, he’s so gorgeous. You know, I’d pay to be in a private room with him rather than the other way around.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “I don’t get why you’re not more into him. He could snap at me, and I’d drop my panties.”

I wipe down the counter, my mind racing with thoughts of Elio…of how good his lips had felt against mine…would I have dropped my panties too if he asked me nicely? Did it even have to be nice?

No — I’m supposed to be forgetting.

“Isobel,” I say quietly, glancing over at her as she stacks clean shot glasses on a shelf. “There’s more to it than just Elio being...well, attractive.”

“Really?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

I take a deep breath. Briefly, I wonder if I should tell her. Wouldn’t it help to, at least, get it off my chest? It’s not like I can tell Anastasia. She’d thought I’d been texting her brother, and it turns out that wasn’t the case. I don’t have a clue how she’s going to feel, or what she’s going to do once she finds out the truth.”He’s my ex’s dad.”

Her eyes widen in shock, and she nearly drops the shot glass she’s holding. “You’re kidding! Your ex’s dad?!”

“Lower your voice,” I snap, quietly, not wanting to draw attention to us.

“Sorry, sorry,” she sighs. “Life isn’t fair. I can only imagine how attractive his son is.”

Owen’s face comes to mind, and I shrug. “He’s cute, not like his dad though.”

My eyes widen. Did I seriously just admit that?

Isobel catches on! “You slut! You’re smitten with him.”

“I am not!” I argue, my nose wrinkling as I think about his dumb proposition. “He...he offered to become his personal mistress.”

“Wait, what?!” Isobel exclaims, her disbelief clear. “That’s insane!”

“Isn’t it?” I agree, nodding solemnly. “He said he’d pay me triple what Regency pays me. I turned him down, obviously. But he hasn’t given up. I’m guessing that’s why he keeps coming here. I’m not going to change my mind though.”

“Stella,” Isobel says, leaning against the counter and looking at me intently. “If it were me, I would have taken the offer. It’s the same thing we do here, right? And for three times the money? Girl, you’d be set.”

I look into her eyes, hoping that she’s joking, but she’s completely serious.

“I’m beginning to question your character.”

She laughs, waving me off. “My goal in life is to become a stay at home housewife to a rich man. I would have accepted that offer before it even fully left his mouth.”

I can’t believe her. “You’re horrible.”

“I know.”

“He wanted me to sleep with him as part of my position, you know?”

She just smirks. “That sounds like a perk to me.”

I shake my head. “Yep, and I’m ending this conversation now.”

We both laugh before resuming work.

The door chimes and a customer walks in, casting a shadow on the floor.

As I turn to greet the newcomer, an unsettling feeling creeps up my spine – the sensation of being watched. I subtly scan the room, trying to pinpoint its source. My pulse quickens when my eyes land on Elio, who has entered Regency unnoticed and taken a seat at one of the tables.

“Hey,” Isobel nudges me gently with her elbow. “Can you handle that new customer? I’ve got to take care of something in the back.”

By the grin on her face, that’s an excuse. She just wants me to be close to Elio. “You’re not loyal.”

She waves me off, as she walks away. “I know.” Then she disappears behind the door that separates the front from the back of the establishment.

With each step towards the new patron, I can feel Elio’s piercing blue eyes following me, their intensity impossible to ignore. I greet the customer, my voice slightly shaky, and take their order as quickly as possible.

I manage to serve the customer, each interaction punctuated by Elio’s watchful presence, the unrelenting pressure of his stare like a vice grip around my heart. My skin prickles with goosebumps beneath the weight of his gaze, the memory of his lips pressed against mine – tender, insistent, electrifying – threatening to derail my composure.

I feel like some lovesick idiot. Who dotes this long from just a kiss? It isn’t just the kiss. It’s everything about Elio.

“Mistress,” a man at a corner table beckons me over. I approach him reluctantly, trying to ignore the heat radiating from Elio’s direction.

It’s the same thing every time he comes. He doesn’t order or say anything – he just sits there. It has to be some kind of mind game.

“How can I help you, master?” I ask, fighting the urge to glance over at Elio, who I can feel watching my every move.

“Another round, please,” the man purrs, his words dripping with innuendo. I nod stiffly and scurry away to fetch his drinks, my mind racing with thoughts of Elio.

Why is he here? To torment me? To remind me that he’s always lurking in the shadows, waiting to pull me back in?

I’m not going to change my answer. He should know that by all of the unanswered text messages he’s sent me.

“Here you are, master,” I say as I return, placing the man’s drink before him and avoiding eye contact. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you, beautiful,” he replies, raising his glass in a mock toast before taking a sip. I force a tight-lipped smile and slip away.

As I work the rest of my shift, the heavy feeling of his gaze never leaves.

It isn’t until closing that Elio walks out the door.

And a part of me hates to see him go.