AN – What can I say, life has been absolutely crazy.
I know this isn't NSN, TAM or KTR, but this crazy idea came to me today, suddenly and unexpectedly. So before I lost my muse, I wrote it out. And this is what I have so far. I'm hoping that by getting this down, I'll find it easier to update my other stories.
Please note the M rating on this story... it'll be required very soon... and if things go as I plan, it'll be more warranted than in any of my other stories. You have been warned!
Disclaimer: OTH is not mine.
Thanks to Anniiyy and Kristen for their help! :o)
Enjoy!
Chapter One
I scrape my hair back from my face as I rush through the bright, white corridor, muttering expletives under my breath because I know that despite my best efforts to get to work on time, I'm late.
In my haste, I realise that I don't even have a hair band on my wrist to tie my hair up with. I sigh heavily as I remove one of my hands from my long, brown hair, the other staying on my head so I can hold my hair up in a ponytail while I search my pockets for a hair tie.
"Come on…" I mutter to myself. I growl in frustration when I realise that there isn't one in my left pocket, and so I switch hands and search my right. I want to shout out my relief when my fingers curl around the hair tie I knew I had on me somewhere. I wriggle it onto my wrist, thankful that despite my disorganised state, I am still… well, organised.
Passing through the door, I enter the dimly lit restaurant in a rush, and as I scan the vast, opulent room I halt my movement when I see Victoria standing by the main counter. I gulp, drop my hand from my hair and pull the other out of my pocket as I quickly dart my eyes from left to right, wondering how I can escape the reprimand I know I'll receive if she notices that I'm late.
She isn't supposed to be here tonight. But then again, she's never supposed to be here, yet somehow she always is. Especially if I'm late. I briefly wonder if she has some kind of 'Haley Radar', and can sense when I'm running late for my shift.
Biting down on my lip, I scurry back against the wall, hoping that somehow I'll be able to melt into it so she won't notice me. When my back hits the plaster, I realise that I can't just melt into it, and so surreptitiously I begin to sidestep my way towards the tables, hoping that I'll be able to slip into my shift and find a customer who needs me to take an order or something.
I'm highly aware of how ridiculous I look, skirting around the outskirts of the restaurant as I am, but I'm saving my skin, literally. Victoria… or Vicious Vic, VV for short, as I like to call her, though only in my head – I do want to wake up tomorrow morning, thank you very much – officially takes the title for the worst boss ever. Of this I am absolutely certain. The woman is pure evil, and I don't think she has a pleasant bone in her body. Unless, of course, her kindness is required to boost the reputation of the business. And according to her, treating her staff with respect does not bode well for the business, which is totally warped thinking.
I keep my eyes trained on her as I continue to sidestep my way towards the tables. I pick up a jug of water from the small counter I pass as I stealthily keep moving towards my intended destination, the actual restaurant floor. I can see the threshold out of the corner of my eye; it's about ten or so steps away from where I am now. As soon as I pass it, I'll be so damn proud of myself, though I know I must keep my emotions in check. Punching the air and 'whooping' will not allow me to continue to be inconspicuous, in fact, it would do the complete opposite, which will mean I get fired will then have to vacate my lowly studio and borrow a cardboard box from the trash outside to sleep on for the rest of time.
I'm vaguely aware of a strange noise reverberating around the area I'm moving in, but all my concentration is required to ensure that VV doesn't see me, so I block it out. I continue with my progressive steps and calculate that I must only be about three or so strides away from being in the clear. I'm not usually this sly, in fact, I'm actually rather a klutz, and so I'm amazed at my progress so far. Maybe I am becoming more agile as I get older...
The strange noise gets noticeably louder and it irritates me. I'm still focussing all my attention on VV, who appears to be bellowing out orders to her staff, praying that she doesn't turn around and catch me sneaking into my shift. I'm surely only one step away now and feel the victory surge inside of me. I feel my mouth opening slightly to celebrate the fact that I haven't been spotted, when I bump into something incredibly hard, which frightens the life out of me because there isn't supposed to be anything in the way of me and victory.
I try to move out of the way of this hard thing I've bumped into, but my focus is all gone and I end up tripping over something, which takes me even more by surprise. I realise as I trip that I will need both of my hands to save hurting my face, and so I throw the jug of water and close my eyes, pushing my hands out in front of me to stop myself from landing face first on the floor.
I brace myself for the impact and wince when I hear the smash of the jug of water on the floor a few seconds after I land there too.
Damn it!
So much for being stealthy and agile.
I want to keep my eyes closed but I know that I've just created a scene, and the one thing VV hates more than she hates her staff in general, is staff that create a scene in her fancy, overpriced, pretentious restaurant. So I know I need to react quickly to minimise the damage. Opening my eyes, I decide I need to find out what I bumped into, because I wasn't aware that VV had redesigned the restaurant overnight, and I hoped I hadn't broken anything, other than the jug of water I threw, of course.
Scrunching my eyes up in concentration, I glance over my shoulder and am met with something black. Raising my eyes up this new black thing we have in the restaurant, I ponder what it is. I begin to frown as my eyes move further up this structure, because it lands on a belt, and I realise that I'm actually staring at a person. My eyes move further up this person and take in the blue shirt they have on, which is splattered with water. I bite down on my lip again, because as much as I want to believe that the shirt is designed to be worn like that, I clearly know it's not, and that means they're wet because of me.
Looks like I'll be searching the trash for a nice bit of cardboard tonight then...
I start to panic, because I don't want to lose my studio. I quite like it, and I really don't want to sleep on cardboard. Realising I quickly need to right this very wrong situation, I allow my eyes to wander further up this person, hoping that I'll be met with a nice, compassionate face who knows that what just happened was entirely an accident and that we should just laugh it off.
However, I actually hear myself suck in a sharp breath when my gaze finally does land on his face. God, he's absolutely stunning. His skin is flawless, with a light dusting of stubble on his cheeks, and he has lips which are screaming to be kissed. My eyes roam further around his face and land on his own eyes, which are blue like the ocean, eyes that I'd certainly be happy to drown in.
I realise that I'm staring and shake myself out of this daze I seem to be trapped in. I physically have to shake my head from side to side to rid myself of the fog that it currently clouding my brain, and when I finally rest my sight on him again, I realise that he is not looking at me in a nice, compassionate way at all.
He looks absolutely furious.
His eyes are scowling at me, actually scowling at me, as if he wishes me dead. His lips are pressed into a hard, irritated line, and I feel myself cowering away from him.
One thought flashes through my head in that instant... and its damage control. I really need to get this situation under my control otherwise I absolutely will not have a job at the end of this shift. I crawl over to him and grab the ridiculously expensive tea towel which is tucked into the belt of my apron once I am situated at his feet.
Rising up onto my knees, I reach up and dab at his wet shirt, which is a mistake because now I can feel the hard lines of muscle beneath his wet shirt, and all I can think about is ripping it off him and licking the water I spilt down him off his body.
I feel him stiffen as soon as I begin to wipe his extremely toned stomach, and so I meekly peek up from my position, wondering what it is that I'm doing wrong. I'm met with an incredibly harsh stare and freeze on the spot. It's probably what he wanted to achieve, given the iciness of his gaze.
I'm not sure how much time passes, but eventually I hear him sigh in complete exasperation.
"For goodness sake woman, get off your knees," he orders.
I'm suddenly jolted from my frozen state and scramble to my feet, only I trip over the straps of my apron which have decided at this very helpful time to come undone. I can feel myself falling again, only this time I have something to hold onto to stop myself from falling to the ground. I debate as to whether I should or shouldn't do it, but decide that I don't really want to hit the floor again, so I just decide to do it.
I shouldn't have done it.
I realise this fact the instant my hands wrap around his ass and my mouth is pressed against his crotch.
Once again, I freeze. I have no idea why I freeze, because this is clearly the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to me, and if I had any sense I would just run, run as far away as I can from this ridiculous situation. But instead I just stay there, with my hands wrapped around his ass and my face right up in his crotch.
I feel my whole body begin to warm up, and I know that it's only because my body hates me and wants to show the entire world how embarrassed I truly am at being caught in this ludicrous pose.
"What on Earth is going on here?"
I hear VV's voice get louder as she moves towards the scene of this utterly incredulous situation, and I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. But the ground doesn't open up and swallow me whole, no matter how much I will it to. Her footsteps stop and I realise that must mean that she's beside me. I'm done for. "Oh fuck," I mutter.
I realise as I mutter this that I am still stuck in what clearly is a very compromising position with this stranger. Gingerly, I extract my hands from his ass, and then push myself away from his crotch. I stare at the ground, utterly mortified.
"I'm so very sorry, Sir," I hear VV say to the man I have just assaulted, and then she cleverly moves him back towards the tables. This allows me to rise from the floor, and I race back out to the staff room with my head in my hands.
I slump onto the wooden bench and rock myself back and forth continuously, thinking about how cold I'm going to be with nothing but a cardboard box to keep me company. I briefly wonder how I'll receive my mail... but then realise that I probably won't need to receive mail if I have no place to live and no bills to pay. There is the Visa credit card bill, but it wouldn't be disastrous if that never found its way to me ever again... the cardboard box was starting to have some positives, at least.
The door to the staff room slams open and I don't need to look up to know that VV has arrived.
"Do you have any idea who that is?" she screams.
I glance up at her with a confused expression on my face. Am I supposed to know who that man is?
She stares at me for a good minute, and then realises that evidently I do not know who that man is at all. She sighs and places her hands on her hips, looking as stern as ever.
"Well, Haley, you're going to have to get your ass out there right now and ensure that he leaves here with memories of an excellent restaurant, with excellent service, not memories of being assaulted by you in front of the entire place. You will give him the utmost of attentive service, cater to his every whim. And if he leaves here unsatisfied, you will no longer be an employee of this establishment. Do I make myself clear?"
I nod my head slowly, wondering why she's making me do this. Surely it would be better for another waitress to serve him after what I have done. I come to the conclusion that she really is Satan's spawn. I'd been debating with the idea ever since I started here two months ago, but this stunt of hers just proves it. She wants me to drown in my humiliation.
I take a deep, calming breath and begin to try to move past her. She grabs hold of my arm and tugs me back, stopping me from going any further.
"He's a very important customer, Haley. His table will be your sole focus for the evening. Do not mess this up."
With those last words of warning in my ear, she releases her grip and walks out of the room, leaving me to follow behind her.
I re-enter the restaurant and take a furtive glance around the room, trying to locate the man I just assaulted. I spot him immediately, because it seems that my eyes seek him out automatically. I take a moment to appreciate the beauty that is his face and sigh wistfully.
I feel a pair of eyes burning holes in my skin and turn to see VV staring at me menacingly. I quickly grab my pad and pen and walk over to the table where he is sitting, feeling my cheeks grow redder with each footstep I take towards him.
There are a number of men who are talking merrily at the table. I'm not quite sure what it is they are discussing because the restaurant is very loud, but all talk abruptly stops when I finally reach the table. I also have no idea how many people there are at the table because I can't bring myself to look at any one of them, least of all the man I have assaulted.
I take a deep breath and lift my head, staring at the wall just above one of the table's occupant's head, doing that childish thing where I hope that if I can't see them, then they can't see me. "Can I take your drink order?" I ask as politely as I can.
"We'll take two bottles of the Les Demoiselles," someone says in a perfect accent, and I immediately know that it's the man I have assaulted speaking, because apparently I have memorised the sound of his voice. Oh God, does he have to sound so sexy when he speaks in a French accent? He's making me blush, and I can feel my knees going weak, which is ridiculous because all he has done is order a bottle of wine. I need to seriously get a grip.
I scribble down the order and the quickly retreat to the bar, handing the order over to Chris, who sadly for me is manning the bar tonight. I still wish that the ground would open up and swallow me whole, because I really don't want to have to go back to the table, but it's still not cooperating with me, unfortunately.
"Way to say hello to the VIP, Haley," Chris smirks at me.
I shoot him my most murderous look, which wipes the smirk right off his face. And it should, too; I have a very threatening glare. "Just give me the damn bottles of wine, douche," I snap at him. I'm just not in the mood for his stupid banter tonight.
Once I have the bottles of wine in my hands, I meander my way back to the table. I do my best to remain professional and inconspicuous as I pour some wine into one of the gentlemen's glass for him to taste. He nods his head at me and I smile, before pouring the wine into each of the glasses. I really do try to avoid looking at the man who's crotch I have familiarised myself with, but my traitorous eyes can't seem to stop themselves from looking at him when I begin to pour the wine into his glass.
I briefly wonder why this man is so important to the restaurant, and try to place his face. We do get the odd famous person coming in, but I just don't recognise who he is at all. My eyes roam over his shirt, which is still wet I notice, and he seems very authoritarian and powerful. I also observe that there are no women at this table, they're all men. My concentrated efforts are useless though, and I'm no more educated as to who he is than when my hands were on his ass. I can feel myself become mesmerised with his eyes, and he's staring back at me with a curious expression on his face, as if he's the one trying to work me out.
I watch as he glances down briefly and then returns his gaze to mine, but instead of seeming curious, he's now looking at me with fury. I can't even begin to imagine what it is that I have done to upset him now, but that becomes obvious when I glance down at the table to find that the wine I was pouring into his glass is now overflowing onto the table, and is completely soaking his mobile phone.
"Jesus, watch my phone!" he barks and then reaches out his hand to snatch it out of the way.
"Oh God, I'm sorry!" I mumble, and once again feel my face flush scarlet. Why the hell is it that I can't seem to do anything right around this man? I quickly set the bottle of wine down on the table and begin to mop up the excess wine which I have spilt. I can see him wiping his phone on his napkin out of the corner of my eye, and he brings it up to his face so that he can examine it closely.
"Great. You broke it."
He throws his phone down onto the table and sighs heavily, folding his arms across his chest in what can only be described as a childish fashion.
I ignore him and continue to mop up the mess.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asks irritably.
I'm the one who sighs heavily this time, and I straighten myself up before placing one of my hands on my hip. I regard him carefully, not caring in this moment that he's a VIP. What did he expect me to do about it? It was an accident, and quite frankly he shouldn't look so God damned handsome. "You do know that it's considered rude to use your cell phone in a restaurant, right?"
His gaze snaps up from where he has been staring moodily at his phone and meets mine, his eyebrow rising slowly. He looks at me curiously again, and I wonder what has him so fascinated. I hear a faint gasp from one of the other occupants at the table and I realise that it might be because I said something untoward back to him. I reset my stance, because if he thinks I'm going to accept responsibility for this, then he is clearly mistaken. I've already been humiliated enough tonight, without adding breaking a cell phone to the list too. Somehow I don't think VV will appreciate this new bit of information at all, and I might be chucked out of here before my shift has even ended.
"Is that so?" he asks, as if he's pondering what I said very carefully.
"Yes," I respond defiantly. "If you had any manners, you'd have kept your cell in your pocket. Then it wouldn't have been on the table and wouldn't now be broken."
His mouth stretches into a lazy smirk, and he shakes his head at me. It seems I amuse him. Well, I'm glad one of us is having a good time, because I feel like I'm slowly dying inside.
I decide I need to brush this faux pas underneath the carpet; otherwise I will lose my job. I therefore decide to continue as if nothing had happened. "Are you ready to order, or do you need more time?" I ask the rest of the table, choosing to ignore the strangely infuriating man on the end.
They are ready to order, thankfully, so I write down their choices, this time making sure that I don't look at the man on the end, because I might accidentally stab him with my pen or something equally horrific, even though I can feel his penetrating gaze on me.
I walk away from their table, and can feel that his gaze is still on me as I'm heading towards the kitchen, or at least I think I can. Because I'm far too curious for my own good, I decide to check whether I'm right or not.
Glancing over my shoulder, I move my eyes over to his table and nearly perform a fist pump when I see that he is indeed staring at me. He still has that smirk on his face and I furrow my brow, because although I don't want to admit it, it really does suit him. In fact, I'm pretty sure that everything suits him. He's that kind of person.
His eyes lock with mine again, and once more, I'm hypnotized.
And then I walk right into a wall.
Damn him and his gorgeous eyes.
I see him shake his head at me once again before he picks up his wine glass and returns his gaze back to the table.
I flush the shade of a very ripe tomato and can feel a bump forming on the side of my head.
I manage to get through the appetisers and main course without much mishap, thankfully. I realise that I shouldn't have been so snarky with Mr Sexy, as I've decided to call him, because that wasn't exactly beneficial to giving him the best service possible, as per VV's orders. So I try to rectify that, by being the best waitress I can be.
They are currently mulling over the dessert menus, and I'm watching the clock, waiting until I've given them four minutes exactly to decide what they want, if anything. Once the clock reads quarter to ten, I walk back over to the table, still determined to be an excellent waitress. I even chance it and smile at Mr Sexy, but have to quickly look away again when I feel my knees begin to shake. "Have you chosen yet?"
I write down their orders, and then wait for Mr Sexy to place his order.
He smirks at me. "How's the head?"
I blush yet again, and I decide to ignore his comment. I literally have to bite my tongue though, because another snarky response is just itching to force its way out of my mouth. "Do you want to order something?" I ask as sweetly as I can muster, despite the desire I have to give him a bump on the head for bringing up my clumsiness.
"I'll take an espresso."
I write down the order, wondering why he hasn't ordered a dessert. Everyone else at the table has, and even though this restaurant is pretentious as hell, the desserts really are to die for. This time when I walk away, I don't glance over my shoulder, even though once again I'm sure I can feel his eyes on me.
I slap the order for the espresso down on the bar and turn my back, so that Chris knows I simply want the drink, not one of his unhelpful, silly comments. He takes the hint and gets to work preparing Mr Sexy's espresso.
I hear him place the beverage next to me on the bar. I grab it quickly and head back over to the table. I'm still trying to work out why this man is a VIP, but once again I'm coming up short.
I place the espresso down in front of him and he glances away from the conversation he's having with the men at his table to smile his thanks. It's different from the smirk I've seen before on his face. It's welcoming and makes him look even more gorgeous, if that's at all possible. I can't help but smile back at him.
I feel rather giddy after the smiling session I've just shared with Mr Sexy. It seems that my previous mishaps may have been forgiven, and that means that I get to keep my job, because VV will be happy with the way I've redeemed myself with the VIP. Which means no cardboard boxes for me, tonight at least.
Grabbing the warm sticky chocolate fudge cake, which smells so good I'm almost tempted to eat it myself, I make my way back over to the table. It's the last dessert I need to deliver and I'm so impressed that I've not made any more mistakes, other than the three previous ones, I get rather excited.
My excitement is short-lived, evidently, because the next thing I know I'm walking straight into Mr Sexy, and the warm sticky chocolate fudge cake is now sticking to his very expensive looking shirt, and instead of the welcoming smile he had on his face, I'm met with the unhappy scowl again when I gather up the courage to look up at him.
I just want to cry, because everything had been going so well. Tears prick in my eyes and a shuddering sob comes out of my throat. I become incredibly embarrassed and this time, I do the right thing and run.
I run back towards the staff room, but I can't be bothered to go all the way back there, so I stop and lean against the wall. I close my eyes and bring my hands up to wipe the water from underneath my eyes, forcing myself to gain my composure. I'm just going to have to deal with the cardboard box, even though I'm now starting to wonder where I would wash, how I would cook food and how I could ever be comfortable sleeping on the ground.
I know I'm going to have to apologise profusely to the man I have not only accidentally assaulted, but also broken his phone by spilling wine over it and additionally splattered with warm sticky chocolate fudge cake. VV will absolutely make sure that I do that before I gather my things and walk out of here for the very last time.
I decide to pre-empt her command and take a deep breath before walking back out into the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. I cast my eyes over to the counter, where VV is looking busy. She doesn't seem to have noticed that I covered her VIP in chocolate cake, because if she had noticed, I know she'd be killing me right about now.
I glance back over to the table and find that Mr Sexy is sitting back in his seat, with a big stain on the front of his shirt. I feel my stomach sink. Not only did I break his phone but the shirt is going to have to be chucked away too. I couldn't even think of an excuse as to how the shirt problem was his fault, not mine. I should have been looking at where I was going; not getting excited that the rest of the evening had gone without a hitch.
I drag my feet as I walk over to the table, keeping my eyes trained on the floor because I don't want Mr Sexy to see the shame on my face. I halt to a stop when I reach the table.
The conversation dulls to silence and I know they are all waiting for me to speak. "I'm terribly sorry, Sir," I say, wringing my hands together and glancing up at him from underneath my eyelashes.
I can see that his eyebrow is raised. He's expecting more than just a sorry then. I sigh. And then I become desperate.
"It's just that my boss said you were a VIP guest, and I don't know who you are, and I certainly didn't know who you were when my face was up against your... well... I really didn't mean to ruin your phone, or your shirt, and if she finds out I've done all this she's going to sack me," I say in a rush, aware of the word vomit which is spewing out of my mouth. I sigh again in resignation, before turning to plead with him. "I don't want to live in a cardboard box, so if there's anything I can do to make this up to you, then please let me at least try."
His smirk is back. Does he think me living in a cardboard box is funny? I'm extremely unimpressed with his uncharitable demeanour, and want to tell him so, but I bite my tongue. He's not said that I can't try to make it up to him yet. If he says no, then I'll tell him exactly what I think of him.
"You don't know who I am?" he asks, as if it's incredulous for anyone not to know who he is.
"Er... no," I respond.
"Interesting," he says and folds his arms across his chest.
I can see his shirt straining against the muscles of his arms, and strangely I want to touch them. But I don't, I just wring my hands together tighter, forcing them to behave.
"Well, I can see why your boss would sack you if I wasn't impressed with the restaurant," he says, amusement clear in his voice. I glance over at his eyes again and they're practically dancing with mirth, and I look away again bitterly because this really isn't a funny situation. "You see, I'm a restaurant critic."
Oh fuck. Oh shit. I can now see why VV was so adamant that he has only excellent memories of this restaurant now, and why she made such a big deal over me 'catering to his every need' and whatever the hell else she said to me in the staff room. Everyone in this industry knows that one bad review can practically shut you down. I turn my head towards him and plead with him silently. I ignore the smiles coming from the other diners at his table. Clearly they are not on my side. Clearly they want this restaurant to close down, and for me to lose my job. Mr Sexy obviously doesn't keep very nice company.
"There is one thing you can do," he say slowly, as if he's formulating a plan inside his head right this very instant.
Suddenly visions of me doing all kinds of unsavoury things flow through my mind. But I guess I have to do whatever it is he wants me to do. I simply cannot afford to lose my job, and nor can I afford to have VV on the warpath, with me as her only target.
"Of course," I respond as eagerly but cautiously as I can.
He smirks at me and leans back in his chair, as if he is completely relaxed, the total opposite to how I feel. He should look ridiculous with a giant chocolate stain on his shirt, but he looks powerful and commanding. I hold my breath, waiting to hear my fate.
I just pray that it's nothing to do with spiders, or snakes. I could just about deal with whatever he wants to throw at me, but spiders and snakes I cannot do. I'd prefer to sleep in my cardboard box, than come face to face with either of those species.
"Come to dinner with me, tomorrow night."
AN –I'm not aniticipating the chapters on this story to be as long as those of NSN, but its very easy for me to get carried away so who knows...!
If you have any questions, let me know, and I'll do my best to answer them.
If you'd like a teaser for the next chapter, as with my other stories, then let me know and I'll get it out to you ASAP.
I'm hoping my writing muse is slowly making its way back to me. Therefore I hope I won't leave you waiting too long for updates on my other stories.
I am going to sit down at the weekend and make a start on NSN... so it really shouldn't be too long now. Once again I apologise for the wait.
