Chapter 1

Roseanne waited for the bill to finish printing, sliding her pen back into its pocket and glancing back towards the kitchen. Her heart beat a little faster as she looked back, as it always did. Benji was working today in the kitchen and she was hoping to catch a glance of him. He was the clown of the kitchen, always ready to smile or quip to cheer someone up for make a shift easier. He was always playing when he spoke to someone, and Roseanne—despite her best intentions and her boyfriend—was absolutely smitten. He was so funny, and SO handsome with those dark eyes, smooth black hair, and chocolate skin. Once or twice she wondered if his eyes rested on her with interest as she was walking by from the dish pit in her uniform, and it thrilled her a little to imagine that he did.

Benji was there, behind the line, she could see him—but he was talking to the long-legged gazelle of a bartender, Maisy. Maisy, who he kept making eyes at, who he let take advantage of his generosity, who pretended she was interested just enough so she could keep leading him on.

Why doesn’t he just give up on her? Roseanne wondered, watching them. She had no right to be jealous—and wasn’t. She was only unhappy that her friend would keep trying to get with someone who would only hurt him. He was too good a guy for that. He didn’t deserve it.

They started to laugh together, and she turned away. He’d obviously said something funny, and she felt a little left out. She went to tend to her customers for a while and tried not to think of the forbidden fruit she so desperately longed to taste.

‘Roseanne!’

The call came from the kitchen. One of her orders was up. She hurried in, trying to remember that the gentleman at table 24 wanted thousand island dressing with his salad.

‘Coming!’ She called, and stopping briefly to put in table 24’s order before going up to the line. ‘Oh, good,’ she sighed. ‘I’ve been waiting for this cutlet a while.’ She reached over to grab a side of applesauce and then went to put the plate down on her tray before going over to the cold side and retrieving her salad.

When she returned, she found that Benji was on her side of the line. ‘Are you taking this out now?’

‘Yeah,’ she said, flashing him a brief smile. He picked the cutlet plate up again and put it back on the line just as she set the salad down. Laughing, she reached for the plate again, and Benjie grabbed the salad and lifted it high above her head. He was taller than her, and she hopped and strained reaching for the dish. He laughed, not unkindly.

‘Benji! Hey! Come on, I’ve gotta bring this out!’ She laughed, putting her hands on her hips.

‘Well... ‘ he pretended to think about it. ‘ ... okay.’ He brought the salad low enough that she could reach it, and she grabbed and walked out with the tray, smiling to beat the band. Oh, how she loved the way he played!

Late that night, when she got home and was fresh from the bath in bed, her mind turned to him. His charming smile, the way he teased, that one time she’d crouched down to adjust one of the plates on the serving line and she Thought she’d caught him looking at her butt...

Then she imagined his face, and him kissing her, and her lips tingled. She wanted him to kiss her. He’d probably be sweet, putting his hand to her cheek, and his lips would be soft on hers, but firm and warm. The idea of it sent a thrill through her body. Maisy might not want him, but I’d be on my back in a heartbeat for him if he so much as looked at me right, Roseanne thought. That only brought the image of him between her legs to her mind. In her imagination, she could see them writhing together on the bed, limbs intertwined, his gleaming chocolate body over her smooth, pale one.