Follow You Down
Follow You Down
a novel
Lazeema Haq
Cover design © 2017 by David Le.
Copyright © 2016 by Lazeema Haq.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any portion without written permission except in the case of brief quotations in a book review.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my mother, who endured the world’s longest labour for me.
And my brother, who still drives me to places.
I love you both (but I’m relieved you both hate reading).
Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter One
It may have only been an hour since her shift started but it was already proving to be a miserable night for Vesper Malik. Tonic had been labelled one of the hottest restaurants in the city and every shift was hell thanks to the influx of new customers who seemed more entitled and obnoxious than the usual crowd. While working as a busgirl usually meant limited contact with guests, these days she substituted as a server during peak periods and dealt with patrons more often. For the most part it was easy enough to plaster on a smile and do the job; tonight, unfortunately, some rich bitch decided Vesper wasn’t fast enough and threw Bloody Mary at her to teach her a lesson. Which was why she was in the bathroom right now, cleaning the tomato juice stain from her uniform.
Jessica, one of the other servers, peeked inside for a minute. “Are you alright?”
Vesper continued to pat herself dry. “A little sticky but I’ll live.”
“I can’t believe she threw a drink at you.”
“I can’t believe she’s still here. They didn’t even ask her to leave!”
“Josh would have.”
Josh was one of two managers employed at Tonic, and Vesper’s favourite; he was sweet, professional, and treated everyone with respect – unlike Andy who had a tendency to brown-nose rich clientele, often at the expense of employees and even loyal customers who were not as affluent. Unfortunately for her, Andy was on duty tonight.
“I have to get back. You sure you’re okay?” Jessica asked.
“I’m fine. Thanks for checking up on me.”
“What are friends for?”
“Posting bail? Which you might have to do if I run into that witch after work.”
Snickering, Jessica shut the door behind her.
Alone again, Vesper studied her reflection in the mirror. Thanks to her dusky complexion, the redness of her flushed cheeks weren’t as noticeable. She pulled out a tube of lip gloss from her pocket and smoothed it over her lips, securing her shoulder-length brown hair back into a ponytail. Although Andy had offered to let her go home early, he would also dock her pay and she couldn’t afford a smaller paycheque this week. Her pride may have been wounded but Vesper refused to cower and hide. After all, she wasn’t the one who had acted like an asshole.
Taking a deep breath, she exited the bathroom.
*****
Even if Vesper wanted to avoid the Kardashian wannabe who had thrown the drink at her, it was impossible. The woman was part of Tristan Winthrop’s entourage and they had taken over the lounge area.
Tristan Winthrop. Now there was a guy who embodied everything she hated about the 1%. Smug, rich, arrogant and insolent, he was the twenty-nine-year-old scion of an influential family worth millions. While his friends were downright rude to the staff who waited on them hand and foot, Tristan wouldn’t address them at all, instead choosing to deal only with management. He had a tendency to look through Vesper and her peers like they were invisible. Many of her coworkers didn’t seem to mind the attitude as he always left a huge tip at the end of the night, but Vesper suspected they were also enamoured with his good looks. Over six feet tall, blond-haired and blue-eyed, Tristan had a lean, athletic frame. He wasn’t her type – she liked them rugged – but she had to admit he was hot. Too bad he was such an ass.
“If you’re done daydreaming, food’s ready for Table 8,” Andy yelled, interrupting her thoughts.
“Sorry. On it.”
“Try not to upset any more people.”
Giving him a forced smile, she headed into the kitchen.
*****
Entrees in both hands, Vesper was about to back out of the kitchen when the door swung open and someone crashed into her from behind. Luckily, her grip was firm and the plates didn’t drop.
“What the fuck? Don’t you look where you’re going?” demanded an angry voice.
She turned around to find Tristan Winthrop standing there with an empty glass in his hand, his shirt wet, an irked expression on his face. Without so much as a glance at her, he grabbed the towel peeking out of her pocket and started dabbing at his shirt.
“You realise the kitchen is for employees, right? You’re not allowed here.”
His eyes narrowed on her. Now that she was the focus of his steely gaze, Vesper had to concede that maybe it was a blessing he never looked at people like her. There was a coldness in his blue eyes which was quite unsettling.
“Is that supposed to be an apology?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Did it sound like one?”
“You bump into me, and instead of being sorry you cop an attitude?”
“What would you have me do? Fall on my knees and beg for forgiveness?”
“For a start.”
“You ran into me,” she pointed out.
“Still not hearing an apology.”
God, she hated him. “Fine. I’m sorry. Apparently I need to get my vision checked.” She quirked her eyebrow, mimicking his earlier gesture. “But I’m not the only one.” Right away she regretted her snarky tone, knowing it would lead to further trouble. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah. Another drink. Think you can handle that? You seem to have a problem with directions.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t understand the words ‘employees only’.”
“Vesper, what’s taking so long?” Andy bellowed, walking into the kitchen. Spotting Tristan, he puckered up immediately. “Mr. Winthrop? How can I help you?”
“Excuse me.” She rushed out before Andy could make an example out of her in front of the jerk. He would fire her, no doubt, but she wasn’t in the mood to be publicly humiliated twice.
Over the next hour she formulated
a plan for herself. Josh would most likely give her a reference, and with her experience, hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before she found another waitressing job. With college during the day, restaurant work was the best option for her.
She was on her way to pick up drinks for another table when Tristan came into her line of sight. He was staring directly at her, scrutinizing her with an intensity that was nerve wracking. There was a certain comfort in being invisible to people like him because now, with him watching her, she felt insecure about her every move.
Averting her gaze from him, she reminded herself to stay focused on work. The last thing she needed was to piss off any more customers.
*****
Well, she didn’t get fired which was a surprise. However, she did receive a verbal warning about her attitude which, under the circumstances, was understandable.
Chapter Two
A week later Vesper was arranging cutlery in the back room when Josh approached her.
“Vesper?”
“Yeah?”
“Why did Tristan Winthrop just ask me if you’re working tonight?”
It was the third time the asshole had come into the restaurant. That in itself wasn’t uncommon, but the fact he apparently knew her name and was inquiring about her certainly was. “I have no idea. Maybe his girlfriend wants to use me for target practice.”
Josh gave her an apologetic smile. “Andy’s a dick. He should have thrown her out.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m over it.”
“So what do you want me to tell the guy?”
“No point in lying. He’s going to see me when I have to go out and clean tables.”
“What does he want?”
“Ask him. I have no clue.”
“You’re going to tell me if he gives you a hard time?”
“Don’t worry, Josh. I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
After he left, she resumed her duties but her mind spun with curiosity. What the hell did Tristan want? The last two times he’d been in here he had eyeballed her the entire night, as if she was some kind of exotic animal in a zoo. If the look of disdain on his face had been any indication, he’d found her utterly unimpressive too. Jackass.
Several minutes later she was cleaning a table when Tristan slid into the attached booth, catching her by surprise. Frankly, she was amazed he even fit into the small space considering his stature – not to mention that ego. “Can I help you?” she asked, striving to keep the hostility out of her tone.
He didn’t answer right away, instead watching her with a keen gaze that was starting to make her feel paranoid. Was there food on her face? Did she suddenly sprout a second head from her neck? Was he mystified by the concept of working? His blue eyes were intense, piercing right into her, as if trying to turn her insides out and decipher all her secrets.
Then he gave her a playful smirk, and she was momentarily taken aback. How a small gesture could make such a drastic difference in someone, she didn’t know, but Tristan looked like a completely different person with the smile. He seemed more human, less of a douche, like the pole up his ass had been surgically removed thus allowing him to relax at long last.
“I guess they weren’t lying,” he remarked.
“About?”
“Your name. It really is Vesper?”
She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course he was going to pick on her name. How original. “Yes it is,” she said. “Do you need something?”
“Guess your parents are religious.”
“Not really.”
“Then they must be James Bond fans. Were you named after the character or the drink?”
“The scooter.”
“That’s a Vespa.”
“Now you tell me.”
“Do you work here fulltime?”
“Do you need a server?”
“You’re not answering my question.”
“Because I’m not interested in small talk.”
He smiled.”It’s not small talk. I’m trying to get to know you.”
“Why?”
“New Year’s resolution.”
“January was seven months ago.”
“Never too late to get started.”
“What exactly was your goal?”
“Make new friends.”
“You seem to have enough.”
“Always room for more.”
“Yeah well, I’m not interested in joining your entourage.”
He draped his arm across the back of the booth. “I’ve been told I don’t know how to read signs,” he said with a cheeky smile, using the same words she’d thrown in his face during their last confrontation. “Maybe you can teach me, be my tutor.”
She flicked her name tag. “I already have a job.”
He glanced down at the towel in her hand. “Is it fulfilling?”
“Very.” She spotted Josh a few feet away, scrutinizing them. “I’m busy. Do you need something? I can get the manager for you. I know you don’t trust anyone else with your very important drink orders.”
He chuckled, surprising her. “You really don’t like me, do you?”
She had to remind herself to behave; maybe he hadn’t gotten her fired the first time but there was only so much rudeness he would put up with. “What makes you say that?”
“There’s a very distinct ‘Die, Tristan, Die’ vibe in the air when you look at me.”
“Sounds like you’re hearing voices in your head. You should get that checked out.”
“So are you saying you don’t not like me?”
“If that’s what you’re inferring from this conversation, then sure. Whatever.”
“Then if I asked you out, you’d say yes?”
She paused. “Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
She levelled him with a stern look, determined to stop whatever game he was playing. “I already got in trouble once because of you. Can’t do that again. I have to get back to work.”
“You should be nicer to customers.”
“I’m very nice.”
He cocked his eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes!” she snapped.
“I’d like to see you when you’re not forced to play nice.”
Vesper stared back at him, pondering her next move. Truthfully, she wasn’t used to guys hitting on her at work. Her uniform, full-sleeved grey knit jersey over dark jeans, was very conservative, unlike the tight black dresses that the hostesses were required to don. They were usually the ones having to deal with too-friendly customers, not her. Now that she was the recipient of such attention, she had no idea how to handle it. Maybe the direct approach was best. “How do I get you off my back?”
“Easy.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Get on yours. I don’t mind doing all the work.”
“You think that’s cute?”
“Don’t you?”
“It’s too bad I can’t tell you what I really think.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m at work and you’re a customer. I tell you to go to hell, I get fired. Power dynamics aren’t exactly favouring my side.”
“And what if they were? What if I said you could be honest with me, tell me off if you want, right here, right now, and I won’t say anything to get you in trouble?”
She contemplated it, she really did, but then remembered who she was dealing with. If he was anything like his friends, he wouldn’t like his ego bruised. “I don’t think so.” Grabbing the towel and bottle of disinfectant, she slid out of the booth and started walking away only to have Tristan block her path. She really, really hated having to look up at him. Based on his height alone he had an advantage over her
– which, fine, most people were taller than her to begin with – but he was ridiculously so, and it automatically made her defensive.
“You’re a coward. Has anyone ever told you that, Vesper?”
There was something alluring about the way he emphasized her name. It was deliberately seductive, designed to get a reaction from her; she tried her best not to give him one. “I think we’re done here.”
“One date. What would it take?”
“Hell would have to freeze over.”
He leaned in closer, bending down slightly to lock eyes with her. He was so close, his nose was practically touching her own. Her first instinct was to run but she forced herself to hold his gaze and remain calm. Any sign of weakness from her, and he would take that as a win.
“You can play hard to get if you want, Vesper.” He tilted his head a bit, gave her a cocky smile. “But women like you always end up saying yes.”
“Women like me? And here I thought I was special.”
“You’re not. Unless you want me to lie.”
She scoffed. “Don’t bother.”
“So is that a yes?”
“If you actually knew women like me, you’d know we can’t stand condescending assholes.”
He grinned. “But we’re so much fun.”
“I’d prefer a root canal.”
He flashed an incorrigible smile. “So you get off on pain. I’ll keep that in mind for our date.”
“Go fuck yourself!”
He winked at her, chuckling, and lightly tapped her nose before turning around to walk away.
She had to use every ounce of strength she possessed not to hurl the bottle of disinfectant at him.
Chapter Three
Most people may not have considered Halloween an actual holiday, but for Vesper it was her favourite day of the year. Being a different person and slipping into someone else’s skin, even if only for a few hours, meant a break from being her – appealing in itself – but the real reason she loved the holiday was that it was at the centre of one of the few good memories from her teenage years. Armed with fake IDs, she and her sister, Latoya, had snuck out to a club, both dressed as Beyoncé for the night. Instantly guilt flooded through Vesper, her body’s Pavlovian response to all thoughts of her sister.