The Jealous Guy

By Lee Brazil

Story Orgy Singles brings you...

Bad Boyfriends.

The men your mother should have warned you about, but probably didn't.

The Jealous Guy

Bank Vice President Sydney Huber has a habit. Every day for six months he's eaten the same thing for lunch, in the same restaurant, just so he can be near the object of his affections.

It's sweet...that's what server Max Bridger thinks. Until their first date reveals a dark side to the handsome banker that Max hadn't suspected, and can't live with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Brazil
• Release date: Mar 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311245083

Lee Brazil

Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it’s nevertheless one hundred percent true.Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don’t belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don’t fit?Then turn the page and see... there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are...beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it’s why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it’s why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.If I’d had my way, I’d have been a fencer...or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that’s the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.If I hadn’t learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college...teaching...or writing.

Book preview

BLURB

Story Orgy Singles Presents

Bad Boyfriends

The Jealous Guy

By

Lee Brazil

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. As such, any resemblance to any persons, living or deceased, businesses, events, or locales is coincidental.

Cover Art by © Startled Monkeys Media

Editing by Jae Ashley

Copyright February 2014 © Lee Brazil

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Trademark Acknowledgements:

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Applebee's: Applebee’s International, Inc.

McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation

Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

Speedo: Speedo International

Coke: The Coca-Cola Company

Volkswagen: Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

Beatles: Apple Corps, Limited

Spock: Paramount Pictures Corporation

John Lennon: Yoko Ono Lennon

TGI Friday’s: TGI Friday’s of Minnesota, Inc.

Wizard of Oz (including Dorothy): Turner Entertainment Co.

The Jealous Guy

Chapter One

Welcome to Parsnip and Thyme. How many? A cheerful, perky voice grated over nerves frazzled by pouring over numbers that didn't add up no matter how many times he tried. Sydney Huber, vice president in charge of operations at Carbondale Union, refocused his attention from the recalcitrant numbers to the speaker. A cute young girl in a blue checked dress a la Dorothy of Oz stood at the hostess stand, practically bouncing in place with enthusiasm. She seemed an odd choice for a place he'd always considered tranquil and exclusive. She belonged, he thought nastily, at a TGI Friday's or an Applebee's, where she could foist beer and sickly sweet margaritas on French fry munching, hamburger gobbling twentysomethings and college students.

Sydney frowned at the bubbly blonde. Just me. The same as yesterday and the day before and every day for the last six months. He paused to survey the room, scarcely recognizing the peaceful café where he'd been eating his lunches for the last six months, seeking the reason for his lunchtime habit. Somehow, he had the strange idea that if he could just set eyes on Max, some magic button would reset and he'd feel right again, be able to cope.

Instead, waiters in green polo shirts, black jeans, and small white aprons darted about with trays of food, pots of coffee, and pitchers of juice. Tall, short, thin, muscular, light-haired, dark-haired, at least four of them, but none the golden-haired, golden-skinned beauty he'd come to see.

Somewhere in the elegant little restaurant a baby was crying, and an anxious mother crooned and begged for the baby to calm down, further disrupting his much needed peace. Voices rose and fell all around, dishes clinked and clattered. There might be less noise at a McDonald's. Sydney scowled. So much for using his lunch hour to recover his equilibrium. His ears were still ringing from his boss's strident demands for instant answers, the sobs and protestations of the tellers who had no idea what had happened, and his own bewildered inability to account for a missing deposit of some twenty thousand dollars.

The dry-erase board with the daily specials boasted of cream of avocado soup and sweet potato sandwiches and a variety of other vegetarian delights. Someone, most likely the bubbly little hostess, had drawn hearts over all the i's and made smiley faces inside all the o's. It looked ridiculous.

The whole world had discovered his favorite little vegetarian café, and while normally Sydney Huber would be pleased for the owner, a lean string bean of a man named Alisdair, today he was irritated beyond measure. It was the final straw on a day that had gone from bad to worse.

Oh. Yes. Would you like to sit at the counter since it's just you? Her smile grew, white teeth gleaming, painted lips stretched wide. Her head tilted inquisitively to the side.

No. I would like to sit in Max's section, as usual. He glanced around the room, as if saying his name would conjure the man.

I'm afraid Max's section is full. We're very busy today. I'm sorry. She held the menu to her chest and jerked her pointed little chin toward the counter. There are several single seats at the counter. Three bar chairs were empty there, as she had said, but a good dozen people were packed in at the space, sitting practically elbow to elbow. The older woman who usually worked the counter had been replaced by another young girl, this one dark-haired and pale-skinned. If he sat there, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of Max in the background, the entire restaurant would be at his back.

No, Barbie. I'll wait for a table to open up in Max's section. Fuck. Hopefully that would be soon as he didn't have time for an extended lunch today, not with his superior breathing down his neck for the teller audits.

My name is not Barbie. A petulant tone replaced the bubbly goodwill in the blonde's voice. The smile disappeared and the blue eyes narrowed slightly. The thin blonde pointed to her name tag. I’m Kate.

He sneered at her, curling his lip in derision. I'm not paid to remember your name, but you're paid for customer service. What kind of hostess doesn't remember the preferences of a customer who eats in their restaurant daily?

A familiar tanned hand reached across Sydney and plucked the plastic-coated menu from Kate. One who just started yesterday? A frisson of awareness prickled