Chapter Three
Henry took April in. She stood beside the door with her arms folded highlighting her full, rounded tits. For the past couple of months he’d done nothing but dream about her. Spending time in his apartment was a bust seeing as every corner reminded him of her. He’d gone to the supermarket only to find that they hadn’t taken her back into their employment. When he couldn’t figure out where she worked he’d started to panic. He could have gone to her place at any time, but he wanted to give her space.
Of all the places to find her, he didn’t expect it to be Marcel’s place as a waitress. Not only did he find her here but he was on a date with Angela. The fake blonde hair and tits were supposed to be a distraction to take him away from thoughts of April. Seeing her in the flesh reminded him that he’d already spent a great deal of time using another woman as a replacement. Julia didn’t deserve it then, and April didn’t deserve to be put through this. Angela wasn’t getting anything more than a good meal out of him.
April looked good, better than good. Her eyes were no longer dead with all the pain locked inside.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Please don’t get me fired. I’m good at my job, and I like it here. It beats working at the supermarket, and I’m learning so much.”
He held his hand up. “I’m not here to talk about your job, April.” Actually, he was. Seeing the panic on her face, Henry knew he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize her workplace. Marcel wasn’t an awful man to live with, but he demanded a lot of his employees.
“Then what are you here to talk about?” She held her hands behind her back, staring at him.
It took every ounce of willpower not to glance down and stare at her curvy body. Did she even know what she was doing to him? All he wanted to do was bend her over this table and fuck her. He couldn’t do it. April wasn’t his.
“I wanted to see how you were doing. The way I left things was appalling. I should have respected your decision to move back home. I guess, I missed your cooking already.” He tried to make a joke, but it fell flat.
“You’re dating,” she said.
“No, Angela’s not really a date,” he said, lying.
April smiled. “I’m happy for you. It’s what Julia would have wanted.”
Why did everything they talked about have to come around to Julia? He didn’t want her to be happy for him or to think better of him.
“I doubt we’ll last beyond tonight.”
She smoothed her hands down the black skirt she wore. He craved those hands on his own body.
“Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head.
“Can I go?”
“Sure, tell Angela I’ll be out in a moment.”
She nodded and left the room.
Seconds later Marcel walked back in. “If you want me to fire her, I will, but I’ll be pretty pissed about it, and I don’t like being forced to fire my staff. I happen to like her.”
“I don’t want you to fire her.” He couldn’t take that away from her. Henry wasn’t stupid or blind. April liked this job.
“Then why the need to speak with her? I don’t understand.”
“It’s nothing.” He stopped to look down at the ground.
“She’s Julia’s best friend?”
Henry glanced at his friend, gritting his teeth in the process. One drunken night at the restaurant he’d admitted his true feelings to Marcel. Since then, his friend had told him to come clean, to tell April the truth.
“She means a lot to me, Marcel. I need you to take care of her. You and I both know there are certain men who come here that take what they want without a care to how it will destroy them.” He’d seen many women falling for the customers, which was why Marcel implemented the policy of no dating.
“I understand. I’ll take care of her.”
Henry nodded and walked toward the door.
“One question, Henry,” Marcel said, stopping him in his tracks. “If you’re in love with April and have been from the first moment you saw her, why are you dating the blonde outside?”
“April doesn’t know how I feel about her. She believes I hate her, and I’m not prepared to change who I am to prove to her. Julia’s death wasn’t so long ago. How do you think she’s going to feel if I tell her what I really think was supposed to happen that day?”
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Henry. Time will pass, but these feelings will not. April will find a man, and when she does, can you live with the knowledge you could have been that man?”