Second Hand Waitress

She grabbed his wrists, intending to push his hands away, but instead, her fingers curled around them, holding on. His skin was warm, slightly rough, and her thumbs brushed over his pulse, feeling how fast it was racing. Their lips met again—hesitant, then firmer, deeper.

Tesah’s hands slid up her arms, his touch featherlight, as if he was afraid she’d vanish if he held too tightly. He tilted his head, angling the kiss to savor her, taste her. Kira gasped softly when he nipped at her bottom lip, and he used that moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue teasing against hers. Heat coiled low in her belly, spreading through her like wildfire.

Her hands moved on their own, gliding up his arms, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt. When they reached his shoulders, she pulled him closer, pressing herself against him. The warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne, and the way his breath hitched as she kissed him back—it was intoxicating.

Tesah groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding down to her waist, gripping her firmly. Kira’s heart pounded as he pressed her against the wall, his body flush against hers. His lips left hers for a brief second, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw, along the delicate curve of her neck. When he reached that sensitive spot just below her ear and kissed it, a soft moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

At that sound, Tesah exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening on her hips as if he was barely holding himself back. His lips hovered over her skin, his breath hot against her throat. For a moment, neither of them moved, both caught in the intensity of what was happening.

Then, suddenly, reality crashed back in.

Kira’s eyes flew open, and her stomach twisted with a mix of shock and embarrassment. She shoved against his chest, breaking free from his embrace. “Tesah—” Her voice was shaky, breathless.

He stepped back immediately, his own breath coming fast, his dark eyes burning into hers. “Kira…” His voice was rough, filled with something unreadable.

She lifted trembling fingers to her lips, still tingling from his kiss. “That… that shouldn’t have happened.” Her face was burning, and she hated how weak her voice sounded.

Tesah ran a hand through his hair, looking as shaken as she felt. “I know.” His voice was quiet, but there was something in his gaze, something lingering that made her stomach flip.

“I’m serious, Tesah,” she forced out, trying to ignore how her body still ached for his touch.

“I am too,” he said, his jaw tightening. Then, he took a step back. “It shouldn’t have happened. Don’t worry. I’m leaving.

“That was… it was…” She shook her head, frustrated that she couldn’t find the right words. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know,” he said.

“I’m serious, Tesah.”

“I am too.” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “It shouldn’t have happened. Don’t worry. I’m leaving. Take care of yourself, Kira.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Later, Tesah called Sheila and canceled their date. He wouldn’t have been good company anyway. He didn’t understand why he felt so strange about the situation with Kira. They had reached an agreement, and she seemed fine with it. He didn’t have to worry about being responsible for something neither of them had planned for. Other than this small setback, his life was back on track.

As soon as Tesah entered his apartment, his phone buzzed. He groaned when he saw the message—it was in Spanish:

Must Skype immediately, Papa.

Just what he needed after such a difficult day. He headed to his study and set up the Skype call. He had other, more modern ways to make video calls, but his father never quite understood new technology. Skype was the easiest option for him. Tesah rarely used the program—his father was the only contact on his list. He noticed that Timothy Clover was already online. The moment Tesah logged in, the familiar ringtone played. His father must have been waiting for him. They hadn’t spoken on Skype in months.

“Ah, Tesah. It’s good to see you, son,” his father said in Spanish as soon as the call connected. “You’re doing well? You look well.”

Tesah felt far from okay, but he just nodded.

“All good here, Papa,” he lied. Their relationship wasn’t the type where he could share personal struggles.

“Ah, wonderful,” his father said cheerfully. “Listen, Tesah, there’s someone I want you to meet.” He gestured for someone off-camera to join him, and a stunning young brunette sat on his father’s lap. Tesah sighed internally. He already knew where this was going.

“Tesah, this is Eritrea, your future stepmother.” Tesah tried not to react. The woman looked at least ten years younger than his own thirty-two. “Eritrea, this is my son, Tesah.”

His father kissed the giggling woman’s cheek and did something—thankfully off-camera—that made her squeal.

“We’re getting married,” he announced proudly. “Eritrea is the one, Tesah. She makes your father so happy.”

And the sixty-three-year-old man was probably spending a fortune on expensive gifts to keep her happy too.

“Congratulations,” Tesah said flatly. He knew from experience that trying to talk his father out of another bad decision would be pointless—just like every failed marriage before this one. His father’s divorces were always messy, filled with long legal battles. But reminding him of past mistakes wouldn’t change anything. It was easier to just say polite things, buy a gift, and stay out of it.

His father was both a cynic and a hopeless romantic. He hated all his ex-wives with so much bitterness that it had influenced Tesah’s own views on relationships. Yet, every time a new woman came into his life, he was completely obsessed with her.

“Will you come to the wedding?” his father asked excitedly. “Eritrea and I are having a beach wedding in Tenerife. She wanted the most romantic location. And I’ll give my beautiful Eritrea everything she wants. Also, I think it’s closer to you, right? It’s near Africa.”

“That’s in northwest Africa, Papa. I’m in Medina. It’s pretty far.” Tesah forced himself to look regretful. Clearly, geography wasn’t his father’s strong suit. But the old man had never understood why his only son chose to live so far away. Since he still hoped Tesah would “come to his senses” and move back, he had never bothered learning much about the place Tesah now called home.

“I sometimes regret sending you to that university, Tesah,” his father said with a sigh. It was a complaint he had repeated many times. “But I thought, let the boy go, let him learn to be a man away from home. But then you decided to stay there.”

Timothy Clover had thought sending Tesah to study in another country would help him grow into a strong man. And after Tesah earned his MBA, his father happily handed over the family business to him. But he hadn’t expected his son to stay in that country, build a whole new life, and—worst of all—rebrand the Clover hotel chain in

Medina, completely removing his father’s influence.