Read Online Rock'n Tapestries by Shari Copell - Free Book Online Page B

working here would mature him. I’m so sorry,
ladies.”
     

     
    Reactions
from the other waitresses that night ran the gamut from glares to grins. Some
of the girls didn’t mind trading sex for perks, but most of them were glad
Scott was gone. Willow hadn’t slept with him either, but he’d certainly been
applying the pressure. She nearly wept with relief.
    I
still felt sick about what had happened, but when a few of my fellow servers
thanked me, it made it all worth it. No one... no one... should have to
work under those conditions.
    Guilt
kept sneaking in, and I fought to push it aside.  If Scott Dreyfus would’ve
shown even a little distress about my near-abduction, I’d have kept my mouth
shut. 
    Asher
was horrified when he found out what Scott had done to me. Really.  I wondered
if it was just an act, but it didn’t seem like it.
    “God,
Chels, that was mighty fucking brave of you.  I didn’t like the way he looked
at the girls here, but I had no idea he was...”  Asher kissed my bruised cheek
and pulled me into his arms for a hug. I let him. It was the hug of a
friend—nothing more. I was surprised when I didn’t feel anything but relief.
    “It’s
over now.  I don’t want to keep talking about it.”
    “How
do you think Scott will take it?” He stood me back and looked down at me.
    I
glanced up into Asher’s face, stared right into his eyes. I didn’t feel a
thing.  There was no reaction from the rest of my body either.  Was I just too
upset to react to him, or was Marybeth’s “immolation by Asher” working?
    “He
won’t take it well.  The girls and I have agreed to walk each other out to our
cars at night.  He’s afraid of Marybeth, but he’s never liked me. I wouldn’t
give in and sleep with him.”
    “If
he lays a hand on you again, he’s a dead man.” Asher sounded fierce.  I was too
numb to psycho-analyze his tone.
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     Black
Friday was upon us. Pittsburgh goes nuts on Black Friday.  Bumper to
bumper traffic, short-tempered people yelling at each other in the stores, long
lines trailing out of every restaurant. To make things worse, they play all
that schmaltzy Christmas music in the background.  It’s worse than a Steelers’
home game.  Yeah, not interested in being out there in that insanity.
    I
always offered to work a double on that day. First, because I’m not a hard-core
shopper. I’ll do my Christmas shopping when things settle down a bit, thank
you.  Second, it’s the day we put up all of the trees and decorations at
Tapestries.  I loved to do that! 
    I
stared down at Asher’s torso as he lay on the floor, his head and shoulders
hidden under the branches of a fake spruce.  He was trying to level it for me
so I could decorate it.  Unfortunately, I was preoccupied with staring at the
bulge in his jeans.  As far as I knew, there was no law that said I couldn’t
look, right?
    “Chelsea!” 
    “What?”
    “Did
you hear a word I said?”
    “No.”
    “What
the hell are you doing up there?”
    “None
of your business.” I tried to stifle a giggle and snorted instead.
    One
hand came out from under the tree and cupped his crotch area.  “Are you
checking me out?”
    I
snorted again.  “No.”   Then I thought about his package being under the tree
and what a great gift that was. I laughed out loud.  “Yes!”
    “Well,
stop it until we get these trees up.  Can I take you out for Taco Bell
tonight?  Then you can molest me with your eyes all you want.”
    “Sure!”
I was in a very festive mood. ” I’m on until midnight though.”
    He
slid out from under the tree and sat up with a smile.  He had on a white
T-shirt and tight jeans.  I thought he looked a lot like James Dean.
    “That
makes two of us then. Now... I’m going back under here, and I want you to tell
me whether it’s straight or not. Focus on the tree , Chelsea Whitaker.”
He lay back down and shimmied under the branches. “If you can.”
    I
laughed