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Simone Niy on Amazon Kindle




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.



"Daddy?" Kiana called, shutting her childhood home's door. She ventured inside just a few feet where the couch was positioned. The classic smell of peppermint twirled around her nose and nostalgic moments almost seemed to swarm into her head at once. Kiana put her heavy canvas bag, full of books on the center of the chestnut sofa and searched for her father. She checked her watch and noticed it was half past 4. She scowled to herself as she walked in the direction of his bedroom door. She knocked twice and then cracked it just a little.

Her dad sat up in bed and stared blankly at the CNN playing on the TV. He had always loved keeping up with his current events. Only after taking a few steps toward him did he move his eyes in her path. She took the plaid, plush seat beside him and reached for his warm hand. She held it in hers while they both paid the TV a good amount of attention. But good in Kiana's standards was little to none. She had so many other things on her mind, the fact she had taken the time to read the words on the screen was an accomplishment. Her finances were becoming a bigger problem each day, and they clouded her thoughts vastly. Her college education came second, but her father's health topped it all.

Her dad, Eugene Freeman, had a stroke just a few months ago. His incident had nearly cost him his life, but he paid his personality in full. The brain damage was pretty severed; most of his speech was gone and the doctors guessed even his comprehension decreased. So Kiana had no idea whether or not her daddy knew what CNN was trying to communicate to him. The entire left side of his body was lifeless, and no longer in his control.

But despite the casualty, she tried to keep things as normal as possible. She'd visit him a few times a week, checking on his finances, making sure everything was being paid, reading him a few verses from the bible and just keeping him company. Although she admitted to herself, it was hard to not hear his broadening laugh, sly jokes and appraisal when she could use it most.

"Bath..." He whispered so weakly, slicing her thoughts in half. Kiana looked into his eyes and nodded. She wrapped his good, functioning arm around her and he limped to the bathroom. Kiana had taken her father to the bathroom plenty of times and each time was equally startling. But she never showed her emotions.

When she helped get his sweats back over his body and washed his hands, she sat him back in bed. He was drooling a little on the left side of his lip, where his muscles weren't functional, so she used the back of her sleeve to clean him up before she sat back in the chair and took his hand again.

"I just finished my tutor session. My classes are going well. Dance is still fun and I really love working at the library. So things are pretty alright for me." She sighed, leaning a little further back into her chair. Even before his stroke, she could never reveal to her dad she was a Hooters girl. Sometimes Kiana didn't even want to admit to herself she wore the degrading outfit daily. She hated lying to him, but she felt compelled to do it. She didn't want to disappoint him.

The bible was resting right beside his bed in a state that seemed like a message from God. As if He was trying to save her from her own lies.

"Do you want me to read to you?" She asked him. His eyes were looking right into hers. She squeezed his hand gently to give him some encouragement to try harder and react. After 10 seconds of waiting, he did a small nod. It was one of the most minimal movements she had ever witnessed, but it still gave her life. To see him understanding her, and communicating responses was uplifting. She opened the bible and flipped its thin pages to the bookmark she placed there to remember where she had left off on her last visit.

Kiana was right in the middle of reading about Joseph's life as a slave when she heard the front door open. She checked her watch once more and grew hot as she stared at the time. She finished her sentence and then put the bookmark back inside the bible.

"Daddy I'll be right back." She stated, standing and pecking him on his temple. She closed the door behind herself and walked down the hall. Nicolette was removing her jacket and hanging it in the closet. Kiana stood on the other side, hidden by the door. Nicolette's deep voice hummed a song blaring on her IPod that even Kiana could hear. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and her temper rising.

When Nicolette closed the door she jumped and placed a manicured hand right above her breasts in relief. She took her earphones out and gave Kiana a nervous smile. She had every reason to be nervous.

"Ms. Freeman—" Kiana's menacing voice cut her off. She sounded mean, even in her own opinion.

"What's the bullshit excuse?" She questioned, squinting as if it would do anything to help ease her tension. The Chinese woman heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her thin black hair. Kiana's patience was wearing thin, so she should start talking soon.

"I had to work late at my second—" She began, Kiana stopped her short again.

"Are you fucking joking? I—I can't even explain my thoughts right now." She laughed. Nicolette knew it wasn't her time to speak as much as she doubted her time would ever come. Kiana looked at the ceiling, a silent plea to her mother to reign down some of her kindness and acceptance from heaven.

"Do you see how this looks?" Kiana asked. Nicolette didn't know if that was a rhetorical question or not. But the deathly glare in her eyes gave some indication it was.

"You're two hours late. I pick one day and one time to randomly come by and check on the nurses and you come late." Kiana put her hands on her hips and looked at the grandfather clock nestled down the hallway.

"The major thing I'm concerned about is the lack of communication. You just snuck in here, without a word. I didn't get any sort of phone call from you. How long have you been doing this?" She whispered, taking a step closer to her. Kiana read her eyes and saw the uncertainty she held there. It was comical to watch the woman in such a panicky state.

"This is the first time." She said quietly. Kiana smirked, it was an attempt to mask her smile and muffle a laugh. She knew better than to take her word for it, the fact she had even asked was for pure amusement.

"He had to use the bathroom earlier. What if I hadn't been home?" Hearing herself ask the metaphorical question had her irritated again. Her father probably would've tried to get to the bathroom on his own, knowing him.

"This is your first and last, warning Nicolette. I don't fuck around when it comes to my father." Kiana snarled, looking the woman up and down before revolving to head back to her dad's room.

When Kiana opened the bedroom door, she seemed like the same person she had been before she left. Her dad was still sitting in his same spot on the bed, and Kiana had a strange impulse to move him. She strolled a few steps toward his bed.

"Let's go for a walk." She stated. The digital clock on the bedside table said she had 2 more hours until she started her 6 oclock shift. Time always moved quickly when she was in his company, even before his incident.

The childhood development seemed completely the same. She could remember long hot days that were filled with hanging out on the street and playing with the neighborhood kids. Her life as a child was probably the most carefree moments she could ever recall. Now things were so complicated. The responsibilities of 40 year old adults seemed to sit on her young, 19 year old shoulders.

She looked down onto her dad's head as she pushed him in his wheelchair. She played Ray Charles on her phone and it blared in her pocket for them both to hear. She just wanted him to feel as comforted as possible.

She couldn't believe her thoughts were wandering toward Sawyer—the number one person on her shit list as of that moment. She replayed their scene in her head a few times. The sexual jab was what really had her pissed. She wondered why he would ever think his behavior would hold her interest. The man must have had some past successful experiences with his manners. She couldn't imagine any woman with morals falling for him while he acted like that. Maybe it wasn't that act; he was extremely attractive. Although appearance wouldn't be enough to achieve a date with Kiana, she couldn't speak on behalf of shallow women. For example, some of the women she happened to have as co-workers. They'd be more than happy to open their legs for a man that resembled Sawyer, even with his attitude. Thoughts about her job made her check her wrist watch. She had a little less than an hour to get there. Kiana turned the wheelchair around and headed back home.

*

Kiana had gotten dressed at her dorm room and was just a minute shy from being late. She opened the front door, out of breath from running through the parking lot. When she headed toward the Employee's Only room to toss her things and get right to work, a voice halted her.

"Key!" Janelle called, rushing toward her. She had a plate of fries in her hand.

"Yeah?" She asked. Janelle shook her head and pursed her lips.

"That man is here, he's been sitting at that table for the past hour waiting for you." Janelle nodded to a table in the corner of the room, and luckily his seat was facing the opposite side so all she could see was his neck length blonde hair. His broad shoulders were hunched over the table and he just looked as if he'd been waiting a long time.

"Well look, he'll be waiting another century because I refuse to serve him." Kiana said, continuing her pursuit to the small room. She threw down her bag and then went back out to get started with work. But when she exited the room, she knew he was watching her. She checked his table and sure enough, his powerful blue eyes were right over his shoulder. His head was supported by his bent arm and he gazed at her so seductively with that signature cunning smile. Kiana wasn't concerned at all. She had a table full of women, and for the first time, she seemed happy to be busy. It would keep her conscious off the ocean blue eyes she could feel watching her every move.

A half hour passed before Kiana's work productivity was interrupted. She was in the midst of serving two hot plates when Eric pulled her to the side.

"What's up?" She asked. Eric's midnight black eyes looked into hers and she anticipated his words. She was almost certain they'd ruin her mood and 'work buzz' in some way.

"He's requesting you specifically. So go ahead and serve that table even though it's not assigned to you. Samantha will pick up your next one." He said. Kiana was unconsciously shaking her head while he spoke.

"No. How about Samantha takes him, and I keep my next customer." Her accusation was right and she was sure her annoyance came out in her voice. But she wasn't giving up a polite, tipping customer to take on a rude ass like Sawyer. Samantha would be more than happy to serve Sawyer, being one of the shallow bitches she referred to earlier.

"If he can't have you, he'd probably walk out that door. Now what would I look like allowing money to walk out the door? Mhm, exactly." He said, giving her a saucy raised eyebrow. Kiana gave him a smile. Seeing a glimpse of her ex- best friend's personality exit the strict manager's body was amusing. "Let's get started." He said.

Kiana really didn't have a choice on serving him. But she wasn't going to let this control her. She didn't need to treat him any differently from her other customers because that's all he was. She served the current plates in her hands to her table of women. They seemed to be having a good time, and were the source of over 50% of the laughter heard in the restaurant.

When everything was served, she sighed deeply and headed for Sawyer. His eyes were roaming over her body while she walked in his direction. He took in the spread appearance of the bridge of her nose, the wide nostrils sitting right above full, puckered brown lips, her eyes watched him menacingly with their chocolate brown color and curled lashes.

"To drink?" She asked, looking him head on. Sawyer thought for a moment. He looked as if he was really thinking about his beverage, but what exited his mouth shouldn't have surprised Kiana.

"How was your day?" He decided to ask, folding his hands over the table. Kiana noticed his attire today; it was much more relaxed. He looked like he'd just left the beach. His deeply waved hair was undisturbed and fell lightly around his jaw, reminding her of Thor. His sky blue polo was unbuttoned just a little and it complimented his tanned skin.

"The drink." She said in a forceful tone. Sawyer smiled and put his hands up in surrender. Kiana rolled her eyes to no one in particular. He seemed occupied by that expression.

"Can I have a Heineken gorgeous?" He praised. Kiana scoffed and went to get the beer. When she came back with the cold, condensating beer she placed it before him and reached for her notepad.

"Ready?" She asked, giving him an expectant look. Her pen was already to the pad.

"Kiana, listen to me," He started, leaning over the table. It wasn't a big table, so he filled a considerable amount of space between them. Kiana looked at his beseeching blue eyes without a hint of remorse. "I'm sorry. I should not have spoken to you like that the other day." She could tell he wasn't used to apologizing for anything, ever. He looked so uncomfortable, and he twirled his fingers in anxiousness. "But I'd love to get to know you better."

But Kiana wasn't easily wooed. And his little claim for forgiveness didn't break her façade; not even a little bit.

"So if you're not ready to order I'll come back." She said while she began to check on her other tables. She didn't have the chance to look at Sawyer's expression, but something told her it would've been humorous.

Shockingly, she no longer held any animosity toward him for his behavior. She had too many other things to focus her attention on, and he wasn't one of them. Although it wasn't safe to say she was ready to forget his actions entirely.

The rest of his dinner involved bold compliments and failed attempts to have conversations with Kiana. But she didn't fall victim to his words and now he was finally paying for his meal. She walked near his table and extended her hand for his debit card. He didn't hand it over.

"I think I asked how you were doing earlier, but I never got a response..." He said, giving her a dazzling grin. Kiana wasn't entertained, and she couldn't help but feel a déjà vu moment from the other night.

"Samantha is up front and you can pay with her." Kiana said while walking toward another table she was waiting on.

"Okay, okay." He pleaded, extending his hand and giving forth his card. Kiana snatched it out his hands— once again, fed up with him wasting her time. Sawyer sighed heavily when she was out of earshot. He didn't know how to win this woman over. She didn't seem interested in any of his antics and that was all he knew about being flirtatious. But he wasn't ready to give up.

*********

"Let's run it one more time and then we'll wrap it up." Naomi called from the front of the room. Kiana sighed, not quite ready to stop dancing yet. She stretched her neck in the mirror before her and got ready to pour her soul into the next count. Naomi called the beats and everyone entered their own worlds, including Kiana. When she danced, she was certain that life around her stopped and her worries were insignificant for the entire routine.

But when it was over, and her heart was racing, breaths deepened and face damp; she knew it was all temporary. So it wasn't a surprise to her that just like a depressant, stimulant or hallucinogen, she got addicted. Dancing was her own personal drug.

"Alright ladies, I'll see you next week!" Naomi called, strolling toward her small office while the dancers headed to the changing room. Kiana didn't though. She took a swig of her water bottle and eventually trailed behind Naomi. She took a bottomless breath and knocked on the door twice before opening it. She was drinking some water herself.

"Hey, I wanted to talk to you for a second if it's alright." Kiana said meekly. Her own uneasiness made her more nervous.

"Yeah, come sit." Naomi said, gesturing in the direction of a small chair. Kiana took it and Naomi sat on the edge of her desk. She looked at Kiana keenly.

"I need to quit this dance company." She said honestly. Naomi's perfectly groomed brows rose in shock and she tucked a lock from her A-line bob behind her ear.

"You say need—instead of want?" She questioned. Kiana exhaled.

"I can't afford this tuition, but I'm not complaining because it's worth every penny, I... I'm just having a hard time right now." She explained, dying off as her sentence came to an end. Naomi knew her situation with her father and she could only imagine how difficult it was for her.

"I understand. Although you're a wonderful dancer and I want to keep you here so I'm willing to work something out with you; get in as much as you can." She said. Kiana couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wasn't the type to accept a handout but she needed dance, so she'd make an exception.

"Thank you so much." Kiana said with as much meaning as she felt. Naomi gave her a coy smile.

"Yeah, yeah." Naomi replied with a smile. Kiana clasped her hands over her chest and let her smile sink fully into her cheeks.

"I know you're good for it." She called after her as she walked away. Kiana checked a wall clock and noted she had to get to work soon. She went in the back locker room to get dressed.

*****

Kiana managed to get to the Employee's Only room without any interference. That small benefit only added to her great mood. But she scanned the restaurant in search for blonde hair and sighed n relief when she didn't come across the familiar locks.

She walked toward her small mirror right beside Janelle's and went to take her seat. But a large bright, bouquet of flowers obscured her vision. They were a dozen of long yellow roses. She wound her face up in confusion and then proceeded to check the note card sticking out of the top. The front was simple with a pale pink background behind a delicate silver horizontal line. She opened it to see sloppy script inside.

"I can't make it tonight sweetheart, I'm working late. Forgive me. – Sawyer" Kiana couldn't believe this shit. This man never failed to piss her off, and ruin her mood. She looked around the room to see menacing glares from every woman in the room, watching her read the note card.

"What the fuck are ya'll looking at?" She snapped. Eventually, the women turned their expressions to each other to talk about her. Probably following the lines of why she'd ever receive such a gift, and who it was from. But she could care less about their thoughts. They could have the flowers if it concerned them that much.

Kiana spotted a small bin beside the door. She reached a hand inside the vase and held the roses by the stems. They dripped water down her fingers as she walked to throw them away. She dumped the vase's water down the bathroom sink and put the pot over the toilet. Finally at ease, she got ready for work.

"He must really like you." Janelle said, touching up her blush. Kiana spared her a fleeting look and then turned her attention back to her reflection.

 

"He isn't my type." She said. Janelle chuckled stiffly.

"Since when have you had a type?"

"Well look, I know jackass isn't what I need." She said sternly. Sawyer played too many games for her taste. He didn't know how to handle a real woman; that's the only explanation for why he expressed his attraction to her the way he did.

"That, I agree with. You're way too good for him." Kiana pursed her lips and nodded in response.

She wondered when her day would ever come to be completely happy with a man.

Sawyer continued to visit, harass and flirt with her while she worked. Sometimes he left 25 dollar tips, sometimes his number on a slip of paper that would never failed to see the recycle bin after Kiana's shift. But when he couldn't make it, he'd send more flowers. After one month, the rituals let up a bit. He'd visit less often and the flowers ceased. Kiana hated to come clean to herself, but she was disappointed he was losing interest in her.

"I'm Kiana. Can I start you off..." Kiana trailed off. Her eyes drifted toward the opened door. The winter's breeze seemed to run through the entrance and over her body. Sawyer walked through the door in an opened pea coat, beanie and dark jeans. A tall, modle like brunette was on his heels. She had on knee high boots and a large scarf. Kiana didn't know what emotion she was feeling—she had never felt it before. Her insides heated immensely at the same moment a sickening feeling filled her gut. She didn't feel jealous, she felt unwanted. With a hard swallow that seemed to sink all the way down her limbs and keep her feet grounded, she looked back at her young couple.

"I'm sorry." She said, cracking a strained smile that mimicked confusion. "I lost my train of thought—can I get you two something to drink?" She asked.

"Yes, two iced teas please." The man replied. It was obvious he was holding his date's hand under the table.

"Alright, I'll be right back." She said. She walked back to the counter and tried to be as undetectable as possible. But she could feel Sawyer watching her as he and the brunette sat waiting for a table. When she was out of view, she took a controlled breath and went to get their drinks.

She hoped they didn't get her table.

But when she came out from the barrier of the counter, Sawyer and the blonde were seated at a booth right behind the couple she was delivering the iced teas to. She groaned inwardly. Kiana walked past them and placed the drinks on the table.

"You guys ready to order?" She asked them, getting ready to take out her notepad.

"No not quite." Kiana nodded in acceptance.

"Alright, take your time." She concluded and then she turned on her heels to face Sawyer. The strikingly beautiful woman was engrossed in the menu while Sawyer gazed at Kiana. He still managed to look her over in a ravenous way. Kiana shook her head lightly.

"I'm Kiana, what can I get you to drink?" She asked, sounding a little more bored than she wanted. The woman looked up at her through grey irises and long lashes.

"Water?" She asked.

"Sure...you?" Kiana asked, turning her attention to Sawyer. He noted the weird glint in her stunning brown eyes and the drag in her voice.

"Are you okay?" He asked subtlety, as if he was really concerned. His personal question caught the attention of his date. She looked between the two in confusion.

"Stop it. I really don't feel like—"

"Kiana, this is Lindsey... my sister." Sawyer watched Kiana's face ease up, and a hint of relief took its place on her profile. It was just what he needed to see.

"Nice to meet you." Lindsey said.

"You too." Kiana said. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but that introduction made the rest of her night run smoother. Sawyer still watched her ass while she walked around the area and his eyes stayed glued to her lips when she spoke.

Toward the end of her shift, all her tables were eating at the same time. So Kiana used that window of time to quickly use the bathroom. When she relieved herself and went to wash her hands, a tall stature leaned against the sink counter.

Sawyer's arms were crossed over his chest. He wore a relaxed cable knit sweater over a pale green button down. He literally looked like a male model.

"Excuse me." Kiana said, ignoring the fact that he was in the women's bathroom. He didn't move out of the way though. Instead he took three steps in her direction. Kiana didn't back away, nor did she recoil. She looked up into his eyes and they found themselves deep in a staring match. She roved over his features. Her nose was slim and European while his lips were thin and pink with their perfect cupid's bow. Sawyer leaned his head a little closer to hers and puckered his lips slightly.

Kiana's first instinct was to turn her head and give him a sour look.

"What the hell are you doing?" She questioned incredulously. That damn smile. His smirk would be the death of her one day. It came at moments where she'd think smiling would be completely inappropriate. But she was learning Sawyer was unpredictable.

"You want me Kiana." He said, somehow anchoring an arm around her lower waist and molding their bodies together. Kiana put both hands against his hard chest and tried to push them apart but his other hand found its way around her body. His palm grazed the small of her back just barely.

"Get the fuck over yourself." She sneered, finally giving up on the idea of leaving his grasp. She hadn't noticed how tall he was. He had to be 6'3. He felt so damn good around her though, and his cologne was intoxicating. She couldnt recall the last time her stomach fluttered so much. But all of those thoughts weren't detectable externally. Sawyer chuckled.

"Is there ever a moment when you aren't cursing love? However I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on." He growled, tightening his grip around her just the slightest bit.

"Let me go." She warned.

"You were feeling something when I came here with my sister. You thought I was dating her." He stated, watching her reaction closely. Kiana gulped audibly at the same time her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. But she retorted quickly.

"You wished I felt something." She said back. "I don't care about you Sawyer. Why don't you see that?" She asked, looking him right in his perfect eyes. She read the disappointment and felt the dullness of his body. He uncoiled his arms and nodded in recognition. She watched as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out the door. Kiana washed her hands mechanically and then caught a look at her reflection.

"Jesus." She said, in reply to her thoughts. She wanted him.






Chapter End Notes:

Simone Niy on Amazon Kindle







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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.