Epilogue: Becca

-Becca-
Five Years Later

I sat on the stool behind the cash register and kicked my heels off. I had hit my limit in these damned heels about 5 hours ago, but that was what happened when the evening assistant manager called in sick for the fifth time this week.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I tried to inconspicuously rub my pantyhose-covered feet. I loved managing this restaurant, but it was hell on the arches, I thought with a giggle.
“How can you still be smiling after the fifth 16-hour shift in a week?”
I looked up to see one of my servers coming around the corner out of the VIP area in the back. Of course, it wasn’t exactly a VIP area, but that’s what we called it, so people didn’t enter it. The only time the back area was open was after 8 in the evening, when the restaurant closed. After that, I would go into the back and start setting up for the very specific crowd that Scott liked to cater to.
Brianna was one of the few servers that worked through the day and the evening shift. I had offered her the head server position a few months ago, but Brianna had turned it down. I really wish she hadn’t. Brianna would have been much better than the woman I had to contend with during the day. Mizz Sullivan, as she always introduced herself, drove me absolutely crazy.
“Just a moment of insanity,” I quipped, laughing and still massaging my feet.
Brianna caught sight of what I was doing and laughed. “You know there are plenty of subs back there that would give you a foot rub in a heartbeat.”
I winced and shook my head. “No, thank you. The last time I did that, the poor boy followed me around for weeks asking if there was any other way to serve me.”
“Well, that’s what you get for not playing with any of the other Doms. The subs tend to think that you are looking for a new toy,” Brianna told me with a laugh.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “I think you have the same problem.”
Brianna suddenly sobered up as she always did when I brought up her not playing. “I can’t, remember? I’m owned.”
She pointed to the simple gold loop around her neck that proclaimed her owned by a Dom…. A Dom none of us had met. There had been speculation that he didn’t exist. But I was the only person that knew the truth thanks to a drunken night a few months ago, where Brianna had confided in me that he was not real, and she only wore the necklace because she couldn’t stand it when people touched her. I hadn’t pressed her anymore at the time. But I really wished I had because when we sobered up… Brianna didn’t remember the conversation.
Either way, I had kept the secret ever since.
“What are you two lovely ladies doing out here?” Scott’s voice echoed through the otherwise empty restaurant.
Every time I saw him nowadays it struck me again how much he had changed. Ever since he had walked away from his father’s job offer, he rarely wore a suit anymore. His hair had grown out more and now looked like a ruffled mess that somehow made him look even more like a 29-year-old than he had five years ago. Right now, Scott was wearing a plain white shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. It had become the normal outfit he would wear when he looked for a sub to play with. The only weird thing was that his feet were bare now.
“Why is it that you get to go barefooted, but I have to wear these damned stilettos?” I whined at him for the millionth time.
Scott laughed. “Would you like me to call Eric and have him remind you, Becca?”
I quickly shook my head. Two years ago, when Eric had visited to see how this particular club was doing, I asked him to relax about the footwear.
Eric had taken offense to my tone and made me wear even higher stilettos for a week. I swore I would never do it again.
“Alright, let's get to it. Maybe we’ll actually find someone to take you off my hands,” Scott joked, throwing his arms around my shoulder and steering me into the back area.
This was a joke that he had said ever since the day we had moved to Colorado. Scott had taken on a platonic caregiver role with me.
After losing Noah, I'd had a hard time wanting to care for myself, and Scott had really stepped up. He made sure I ate, slept, worked, and even helped me put myself through college.
When I had tried dating, he had kept a close eye on me and even took up the role of ‘big brother’ to scare a few off that he had found undeserving of me. He had even helped me vet a few Doms that I had considered setting up a dynamic. It had worked a few times, but none of them had ever managed to fill the hole in my heart left there by Noah.
Just the thought of him had me rubbing my chest. It had been five years, and I could still remember how he made me feel… and I still hated him for it.
Every day I would put on a smile and pretend to be okay. But every day, I would search for his face in every crowd I found myself in. Even tonight, I searched the faces of the new Dom’s for any sign of Noah Jones… But there was none.
I caught Scott watching me and forced a smile on my face. “Looks like we got a good crowd in here tonight, Master Scott.”
“We did. This club has really come a long way, thanks to you,” he replied, squeezing my shoulders.
“Thanks to you and Eric,” I reminded him. “It’s too bad that Eric and Tabby had to head back to New Hampshire.”
“They’ll be back in a few months. Tabby wants to make one more trip to the coast before her baby comes,” Scott reminded me.
The reminder that Tabby was having a baby made me a little jealous, but I pushed it down. All I had wanted the last few years was to find someone to open my heart to and finally fill my soul again.
But that wasn’t going to happen, I reminded myself. I had fallen for Noah five years ago and, despite my desire for it to go away… I still loved him… even while I hated him.
“Becca?” Brianna called from behind the refreshment counter.
She was waving me over as she held a phone up in the air.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Scott as I pulled away and headed toward Brianna.
She handed me the phone. “It’s some lawyer guy. He won’t tell me anything. But he insisted on talking to you immediately.”
I furrowed my eyebrows as I racked my mind trying to figure out who it was. “This is Becca.”
“Is this Rebecca Ann Delaney?” the smooth voice on the other end asked for clarification.
I rolled my eyes at the sound of my full name. “Yes, but I prefer Becca now. How can I help you?”
“This is Darrien Cortez from Cortez, Harlow, and Garrity. I am sorry to inform you that your parents have been in a plane crash on their way home from their vacation in Maine. As their sole heir—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I slowed him down, unable to keep up with him after hearing him mention my parents. “Wait… What are you talking about?”
“Ms. Delany, I’ll explain everything,” Mr. Cortez replied with a patience that bordered on sounding almost bored.
“Save me the speech and condolences, Mr. Cortez, and just tell me what happened,” I demanded firmly.
For a moment, I could have sworn I heard a low growl on the other end of the phone, and oddly enough, I felt the need to apologize to him.
Mr. Cortez cleared his throat and began once more. “Very well… Your parents died in a plane crash on the way home from a joint vacation with the Hortons. I need you to return to New Hampshire to claim your inheritance."