Addicted (The Addicted Series, #1)(71)

Julian nodded. "Okay. Truth is, I'm not sure why I'm here. A buddy of mine in Los Angeles said I needed to get my head straight, and I couldn't do that in LA. There was just this little voice in my head that said come to Chicago, you could help. So I went with it."

I thought about it for a moment, touched. "Why?"

Julian looked at me, and I swore it was the first time I'd ever seen the real him, other than glimpses as he had been lifting weights one time before our parents' wedding. "Because of all the people I know, you seem to have your head screwed on best. Your trust fund, it pays for this apartment, right?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "But I don't use it for much else."

"I gathered that from the way Yuki talked about you," Julian replied. "Do you know in almost a decade of working for Johnathan, she's never called me Julian? I've always been Mr. Castelbon, or sir to her. You know what that means."

"She doesn't like you very much," I replied. "I got clued in on Yuki's naming scheme very quickly."

"It's not even doesn't like. She doesn't respect me. Krystal, I thought about it, and I realized other than some guys in the gym, there's nobody who really respects me. They respect the Castelbon money, they respect the numbers I can put up in the weight room, and they probably respect the fact that I could whip their ass if I really wanted to. But not too many people respect me as a human being, let alone like me."

I couldn't argue the point. The fact was, I didn't even respect Julian all that much. I only took him in because he was technically family, and he hadn't pissed me off that much yet. Even while I said this to myself, a little voice in the back of my head added and because he looks . . . I shut it up before it could go on much further.

"Okay. Well, here's the deal then. You can stay, as long as you can follow the four rules. Stay as long as you want. Honestly, if you’re serious about getting your head right, I'm all for it. I would like to get to know you, and it would be great to have a brother. I have way too many cousins as it is. A brother . . . a brother would be nice."



* * *



Two nights later, while I was in the kitchen working the meat preparation station, Horst came by to check my work. "Four more steaks, two medium, one rare, one medium rare," he said. "Also, we have a large party that just came in. Six, young, too much money. Be prepared."

I inwardly groaned. While Chicago was nowhere near as filled with these types as New York or Los Angeles, it still had them. Normally when Horst came by like that, it was because a baseball player, musician, or someone else who rolled with an entourage came in. The worst in my opinion was a week when not only did the Bulls have the Heat in town for a game, but the Bears were playing against the Raiders. That was three days of hell. "Yes Chef."

"Eight minutes on the steaks."

I got back to work, and prepared for the tsunami. It hit like I expected, with appetizers coming in and flooding our stations. As I worked my way through a flood of seven steaks, Horst came by again. "When those are done, check the dining room. I think you'll know who the party is for.”

I nodded as I finished the steaks, and turned my station over to another person on the line, wiping my hands and ducked over to the pass, where there was a see through portion that looked out on the dining room. "Excuse me, Tim?"

Timothy, the head waiter, turned and looked over at me. "Yeah, what's up Krystal?"

"Horst said I should take a look at the tsunami party. Which table?"

"Table twelve, over by the window next to the column," Tim said, pointing over. I followed his gesture, and felt my face go slack. Sitting in the middle of the table, surrounded by four women and another guy, was Julian. He seemed to be having a grand old time, laughing and drawing a bunch of attention to himself. He hollered for a waiter, and I turned away, not saying anything. My face was burning too much, and I only stayed in control by balling my hands into fists and squeezing until my forearms felt like they were going to explode.

I stopped next to Horst, who was back running the pass. "I'm sorry Chef."

Horst shook his head, and pointed to my station. "Not your fault. But if you let the steak tickets pile up more, that will be. You think you can keep that station clear?"

I grinned tightly and nodded. "Damn right. Tell Paul on seafood he better be hopping on the fish, he's going to be eating my dust soon enough."



Julian



When I woke up the next morning, I found that Krystal had already gotten up and left the apartment. I had been asleep when she came home, so I was a little confused. She had told me she didn't have any sort of practice for her competition that morning, and I had hoped we would be able to have breakfast together.

The few days I'd been staying with Krystal, I felt like things were different. It wasn't that I didn't want to sleep with her any longer. If anything, I wanted her more than ever. But in the three days of being able to spend time with her, I no longer wanted to use her for a quick f*ck to humiliate Johnathan. I didn't even think of it as wanting to f*ck her anymore, as much as I wanted to have sex, or maybe even make love with her. I shook my head as my mind took me in uncomfortable directions.

Looking around the apartment, I couldn't find a note saying where Krystal had gone. I tried sending her a text message on my phone, but there was no reply after an hour. Finally, about noon, I got frustrated. Krystal hadn't given me a key, so I couldn't exactly leave the apartment. I mean I could have, but I would be locked out until she got home that night, or more precisely, until about two in the morning tomorrow if her normal work pattern held true. Not what I wanted to do at all. I already knew that going to the back at Alinea wouldn't be cool either.