So this story just came to me, not so long ago and I just want to give it a try. Not sure how it's going to turn out, but we'll see. I don't know yet whether I'm going to keep writing it or not, so let me know what you all think?

Summary: Rosemarie Hathaway is a free-spirit, only seeking to get a start on her dreams to become part of the film industry. However, when her dreams are going nowhere and she starts suffering from unemployment, she must lower herself down and enter the waitressing business. There she meets the damage soul that is Dimitri Belikov. A control freak and short tempered, wealthy business owner. Can she be the one to repair him? Or will he just break her, leaving her as empty as he is?

Also this is rated M, and adult topics will be brought up. And you know, the things you all come for, Lemons (: But seriously when I say Dimitri is damaged I mean it. There's bound to be some breakouts and really abusive matters go down, so if you're uncomfortable with that, please don't read it.

Disclaimer: RM owns it. I'm just a sick soul who wants to make Dimitri hers… (:

Chapter 1: Introduction

Majoring in Film Studies. What a fucking joke.

What had I been thinking? My parents always told me that I would end up being unemployed, and guess fucking what? I did. I hadn't received any calls back from any of the studios I interviewed at. And although I had stellar recommendations from my professors, I had no connections. And to top all of that, my controlling personality always sent the people willing to work with me, the other way. I needed to learn how to shut my fucking mouth.

Now, after being unemployed for two months I knew I had to find another type of job because my parents were sure as hell not keep paying for my bills, after I went against them and majored in what they told me not to.

I actually didn't think it was going to be that bad. I loved watching films and giving my output on them, and I was more than knowledgeable in the subject. My technical skills were more than decent and I just thought that having a major in film would help my chances. I guess not. It didn't matter what my education was, unless I knew people there was no way of scoring a job in a studio. I could go independent but that cost more money and time than I had.

I kept walking to the restaurant I had found online, I had sent in my application and they had called me in for an interview today. I never saw myself as a waitress but I had no other choice and the pay wasn't half bad.

I arrived thirty minutes early –a new record for me, as most of the times I was running late. Maybe that was why I never got called back.

I had slacks and a blouse on, all very professional and my dark thick hair was up in a high ponytail, so it wouldn't cover my face. It was a decent outfit and I was glad I had worn it because as soon as I stepped into the restaurant, it was like I was sent back into the past century. The place look like a classical castle from the inside, everything very medieval and Goth like. The waiters and waitresses all wore black, but the outfits were made of fine fabric. And if I was correct, they were also designer made.

The customers were all dressed very business-like. Very wealthy business-like. The man all wore different colored suits and the woman wore elegant simple gowns or a "power" Chanel suit.

I shouldn't have been surprised; there was no way a simple restaurant would pay eighteen dollars an hour to a waitress. But I was because I somehow thought that I was applying to some other place, like IHOP maybe. Yea, I could see how I was so not going to get hired by this place. I lacked the grace and elegance that every waitress and waiter seemed to possess.

I stood by the podium that the hostess used because there was no other place for me to stay clear of the way. I was terribly regretting my decision of arriving so early.

"I'm Rosemarie Hathaway. I have an interview with Mrs. Kirova— "

"It's Madame Kirova Ma'am"

"Oh yea, my apologies, Madame Kirova" I wanted to roll my eyes but I managed to get them to stay put. It was ridiculous the measures people went to, to stay "classy". I'm sure Mrs. Kirova, had not one trace of French blood in her.

"That's indeed very true, but don't let her hear you say" The redheaded guy I had been talking to, smirked.

Fuck. I needed to stop voicing out my opinions.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud"

"No worries. But seriously don't let her catch you saying that. She'll flip. I'm Mason by the way" He extended his hand and I took it.

"Pleasure."

"I'll let her know you're here. Nice to meet you Rosemarie" With that he walked away. I hated my full name, but I knew it was a more appropriate name for this place, than Rose would be.

"I don't give a fuck! I expected Vasilia to be my server for today, as for every day I come here. Your staff must fuck know this Kirova ! Instead I get a fucking immature! Who by the way brought me the wrong fucking wine. If this is going to become the usual, you're going to lose a customer" I turned around to all the commotion that was going on. More intrigued than I should have been by the rough voice.

"Mr. Belikov, I apologize sir. I didn't know Natalie would be so incompetent. I will make sure you get only the best from now on. Please sir" Her begging went on, but he has stopped listening.

And by him, I meant the sexy hunk of a man that was staring at me with a pissed off expression. He was tall. Very tall, probably close to 6'7", if not there already. His body was big with muscles, but certainly not someone to be considered a body builder. His face could only be considered godly. Long-chin length-brown locks framed it. He had deep chocolate eyes, a crooked nose, red plump lips and the manliest jaw line I've ever laid eyes on. Even Henry Cavill would be jealous of it.

He walked closer to me, Kirova hot on his heels. He raised his finger, as to point at me.

"I want her" I blushed because I sure I hell couldn't deny that I wanted him too. Preferably naked, on my bed.

"Mmm" was all I could let out.

"Excuse me sir?" Kirova said, who was more in control of her emotions than I was—I'm sure she had to be lesbian not to be thinking about getting laid by the sexy man in front of her.

"You heard me, I want her as my waitress" He turned to her, completely ignoring that fact that I was my own person and that I could talk to my self.

"And you are?" Kirova asked next to him.

"Rosemarie Hathaway ma'am, I'm here for the interview" I felt my blush intensified as the sexy hunk turned around and arched his eyebrow at me.

"You see sir, she doesn't even work here. And I'm sure she's is not as competent as my other waitresses are." Kirova turned to him, and it looked like she wanted to get on her knees and beg to him.

"Doesn't matter, Kirova. If she's not my waitress by tomorrow, consider me gone from this place" Without another look, the man left. Two other men following him.

"Hello dear, you're hired" Kirova stated, with as much excitement as a parent, who hated your pet, told you that they died. So none.

She led me around to her office where she showed me my duties, and how to please Mr. Belikov.