Indebted: Part Three (Series Finale): The Virgin & The Bad-Boy Billionaire (A BWWM Billionaire Romance) by Sadie Black Page A
Authors: Sadie Black
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ketchup from staining our rentals. The bright yellow corsage clings to my memory as tight as it clung to my wrist that night. Apparently, no one had bothered to explain to my fashion-clueless date that you’re supposed to match the flower with my dress, not his tie. To spare his feelings, I wore it. Even though it stuck out like a neon flashing Vegas sign against my fuchsia dress.
When Mama passed away, Mr. Taylor was a class act. He shut the diner down for the day, something he doesn’t even do on Christmas, and paid his respects at her funeral. I was so surprised to see him sobbing in the pews during the service. I knew that he had a little crush on her; it was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes. Mama used to pick me up sometimes when I was working late, and Mr. Taylor would always shower her with diner gifts: bottomless free coffee and pie. He would chat her up, beaming like the north star whenever she sat here waiting for me to finish up my shift. I never did see mama flirt back with him, but she did always seem to leave a lipstick stain on her coffee cups, even though she didn’t even wear make-up to church.
My first shift after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, the staff surprised me with a small chocolate cake to celebrate. I still remember the baby blue icing message scrawled across the top: We’re So Proud . In a lot of ways, Mr. Taylor and the regular kitchen staff have felt like my family.
My eyes are clouded over with the memories, “Hey,” Brianna grasps my hand, still hovering in a mid-air frozen search for my time card, "Are you alright?" She whispers, "are you thinking about Matthew?"
"No!" My body stiffens at the mention of his name. His face intrudes upon my moment of reflection. Harvey and a couple of the other kitchen staff snap their heads in our direction, and I take a deep breath. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled," I drop my voice back to a normal level, "it's just that, not everything is about Matthew. I mean I haven't even talked to him in two weeks. I've moved on. You should too."
Brianna cocks her head to the side and raises her eyebrow so high I think it might graze the ceiling. I know that look, and it pisses me off. She doesn't believe me, and what's worse, she pities me. The last thing I want is to go through this again with her right now. Over the past couple weeks, she’s been relentless in trying to get me to resolve things with Matthew. The truth is, I have no idea where to start. I punch in and grab a spray bottle and rag to wipe down the dining room tables with Brianna hot on my heels.
"Kendra, it doesn't have to be over. You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m buying this ‘I’m over it’ act, ok? I know you're miserable without him. Why are you throwing everything away?" I stare at the dried ketchup on the table I'm cleaning like it’s the most intriguing thing I've ever witnessed, trying to avoid her questions.
"I didn't throw him away, Brianna.” I sigh and feel complete exhaustion wash over me, like the only thing that was holding me upright was the air I just breathed out. “We've been over this. I just don't want to talk about it anymore."
"I think you do need to talk about it though," she presses on, "I'm telling you this because I love you, and I want to see you be happy. You're being a total idiot."
"How on earth are you putting this on me?" I hiss. I use all of my self-control to keep myself from throwing the spray bottle at her. Why does she always have to pry, to push, to involve herself in every detail of my life? If she stayed out of this in the first place, I never wouldn’t have had any of this drama with Matthew because I never would’ve dated him.
"I'm not putting it on you, calm down," she holds her hands up like a POW surrendering to the enemy side. "I understand how that stupid bitch shook you up, ok? But, I don't think Matthew did anything wrong here. Yes, he originally tracked you down to
When Mama passed away, Mr. Taylor was a class act. He shut the diner down for the day, something he doesn’t even do on Christmas, and paid his respects at her funeral. I was so surprised to see him sobbing in the pews during the service. I knew that he had a little crush on her; it was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes. Mama used to pick me up sometimes when I was working late, and Mr. Taylor would always shower her with diner gifts: bottomless free coffee and pie. He would chat her up, beaming like the north star whenever she sat here waiting for me to finish up my shift. I never did see mama flirt back with him, but she did always seem to leave a lipstick stain on her coffee cups, even though she didn’t even wear make-up to church.
My first shift after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree, the staff surprised me with a small chocolate cake to celebrate. I still remember the baby blue icing message scrawled across the top: We’re So Proud . In a lot of ways, Mr. Taylor and the regular kitchen staff have felt like my family.
My eyes are clouded over with the memories, “Hey,” Brianna grasps my hand, still hovering in a mid-air frozen search for my time card, "Are you alright?" She whispers, "are you thinking about Matthew?"
"No!" My body stiffens at the mention of his name. His face intrudes upon my moment of reflection. Harvey and a couple of the other kitchen staff snap their heads in our direction, and I take a deep breath. "Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled," I drop my voice back to a normal level, "it's just that, not everything is about Matthew. I mean I haven't even talked to him in two weeks. I've moved on. You should too."
Brianna cocks her head to the side and raises her eyebrow so high I think it might graze the ceiling. I know that look, and it pisses me off. She doesn't believe me, and what's worse, she pities me. The last thing I want is to go through this again with her right now. Over the past couple weeks, she’s been relentless in trying to get me to resolve things with Matthew. The truth is, I have no idea where to start. I punch in and grab a spray bottle and rag to wipe down the dining room tables with Brianna hot on my heels.
"Kendra, it doesn't have to be over. You’re kidding yourself if you think I’m buying this ‘I’m over it’ act, ok? I know you're miserable without him. Why are you throwing everything away?" I stare at the dried ketchup on the table I'm cleaning like it’s the most intriguing thing I've ever witnessed, trying to avoid her questions.
"I didn't throw him away, Brianna.” I sigh and feel complete exhaustion wash over me, like the only thing that was holding me upright was the air I just breathed out. “We've been over this. I just don't want to talk about it anymore."
"I think you do need to talk about it though," she presses on, "I'm telling you this because I love you, and I want to see you be happy. You're being a total idiot."
"How on earth are you putting this on me?" I hiss. I use all of my self-control to keep myself from throwing the spray bottle at her. Why does she always have to pry, to push, to involve herself in every detail of my life? If she stayed out of this in the first place, I never wouldn’t have had any of this drama with Matthew because I never would’ve dated him.
"I'm not putting it on you, calm down," she holds her hands up like a POW surrendering to the enemy side. "I understand how that stupid bitch shook you up, ok? But, I don't think Matthew did anything wrong here. Yes, he originally tracked you down to
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