Missing Her Man

Bianca floated through her shift like a girl in a dream.

It wasn't that she wasn't working—she was, flawlessly. Her apron was tight around her waist, her pen behind her ear, and her smile practiced to perfection. She took drink orders with grace, delivered specials with a sultry lilt, and laughed just enough at bad jokes from men she no longer felt the need to flatter. Their glances bounced off her like nothing. Empty stares, weak attempts. They didn't matter.

Only he did.

She couldn't stop thinking about Joey. Not for a second. His name curled around her thoughts like smoke, sweet and clinging. She moved through the gleaming dining room of Sage & Cedar like it wasn't real anymore, like the only real thing left in the world was him. She missed the way he looked at her. Not like a customer. Not like a man appraising something he might pay for. Joey didn't have to pay.

The universe had blessed her. Of all the people in the world to fall head-over-heels in love with, Bianca had fallen for the one man who was allowed to touch her, the one man she had been tasked with providing sexual gratification. She was no mathematician, but she knew the odds of that happening had to be astronomical.

A coworker named Lexi brushed past her near the espresso machine. "You good, B?" she asked with a concerned smirk. "You're smiling at salt shakers again."

Bianca blinked, then laughed softly. "I'm more than good," she said. "I'm in love."

Lexi groaned and rolled her eyes, but Bianca didn't care. Let her. Let them all. Because they didn't understand. They hadn't found a man like Joey Granger. They didn't know what it was like to let all that cynicism slide off your skin like a dress you didn't want to wear anymore. They hadn't grown up the way she had—watching her mom trust the worst kinds of men, getting pawed at by drunk boyfriends who saw her as just another body in their way.

No, they didn't know what it was like to find someone different. Someone who didn't pay, didn't beg, didn't pretend. Joey was special. Joey just was. And if he said he was allowed to touch her, that wasn't creepy or controlling—it was correct. Natural. Like it had always been true, and she was only now catching up.

She sighed and leaned against the counter near the kitchen pass, her head tilted slightly, eyes glazed. Another coworker, Marco, caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "You high or something?"

"No," she said dreamily. "Just happy."

During her ten-minute break, she slipped out back behind the restaurant, into the little alley with the crooked bench where the staff took smoke breaks. She pulled out her phone and saw the notification: a new group chat.

Joey's Girls.

Her heart fluttered.

The icon was a pink heart. There were dozens of messages—mostly earlier that afternoon—from almost all of them. The tone from Serena and Indira was frayed, anxious. They must miss him too. Of course they did. Every minute away from Joey was a minute too long. She got it. She read their messages carefully, her lips parting in sympathy. They weren't whining. They were yearning.

Bianca didn't respond, though. The other girls had handled it. The flurry of emotion had already passed.

Instead, she slipped back inside and found a corner of the kitchen where nobody was working. Opening her camera app, she pulled her top down just a bit, then a bit more, then finally enough to fully expose one breast. Joey deserved to see what was his. She snapped a selfie. Cinnamon skin glowing in the late-afternoon light. A look in her eyes that was pure invitation.

She sent it to her man.

Bianca:
What are you doing tonight, baby? I get off at seven. Feeling kind of lonely.
I miss you.

She stared at the screen a few seconds longer, smiling at his contact name: "My Man."

The sound of a tray crashing inside broke her trance.

She quickly adjusted her blouse, tucked her phone away, and stepped back into the restaurant. Whatever Joey had planned that night, she already knew how her part ended.

In his arms. In his bed. Right where she belonged.