Touch the Billionaire

Chapter 4

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Ma’am!” Rosetta apologized profusely to a short-haired middle-aged woman who gave her a cutting glare.

The tray she was holding fell together with the rest of the plates and glasses that created a crashing noise, making the people’s chatters pause for a moment and look in their direction. All the plates, bowls and glasses broke into pieces upon hitting the red concrete floor, and the food, soup and juice created a huge mess. The hot bulalo soup even splashed her and pooled around her feet. She gasped but was thankful enough for her black jeans and old rubber shoes that broke the direct burning contact of the liquid on her skin.

Just as it happened, four male foreigners stepped into the restaurant, witnessing the incident. One of them stared at Rosetta, who was oblivious to the newcomers’ presence.

“Watch where you’re going, young lady!” The brown-skinned woman scolded her with contempt, pursing her thick lips that were painted with red and giving her a slicing look. The older woman’s dark eyes swept her up and down before leaving the young girl to attend to the mess on the floor, as though as she was being haughty with Rosetta’s petite figure in a pair of black skinny jeans, red shirt uniform and a red server apron.

It wasn’t Rosetta’s fault that the accident happened. She didn’t know if the other woman did it on purpose either—just that the older woman got up and didn’t give her space when she passed by to serve two female customers nearby. As it was, the well-known resort hotel’s restaurant was jam-packed with foreigners and locals alike, especially that it was dinner time on a Saturday night. The upbeat song played in the background even gave the right vibe to it.

Rosetta blinked back the tears that formed in the back of her chocolate brown eyes.

I have to pay for all of these food and drinks? God! They’re worth at least my four-day pay! She was distressed to think about this fact, but she tried to keep calm, pursing her lips.

Her co-waitress and close friend, Angelie, came up to her and quickly helped her with the mess. “That ancient beyotch!” she murmured, enough for only the two of them to hear it. “I really hate her, you know? Just because she’s this town’s mayor’s sister, she would just do that to anyone! It wasn’t even your fault but hers. She saw you coming but wasn’t even considerate enough to give you some space!” Angelie finished helping her place all the broken pieces in a trash bin while Rosetta continued to mop the floor, unaware of the bluish gray gaze that observed them, especially her.

“I’m just relieved she wasn’t hurt. It could’ve been worse,” Rosetta remarked quietly.

Angelie shook her head. “Sometimes you’re just too nice, Rosetta.” Her friend took the mop from her hand, giving her a scolding stare.

“Angelie, she’s a customer,” she said with eyes widening.

“So? She’s rude!” her friend retorted.

“I might be reprimanded by Ma’am Karen,” she stated, referring to their strict manager. “You know I can’t lose this job.”

Angelie just shook her head, carried the trash bin as well and went toward the staff area through the kitchen on the north side of the restaurant while Rosetta apologized to her waiting clients.

“I’m really sorry for what happened. Your order might take another twenty minutes,” she said.

“It’s okay. Accidents happen,” one of the two girls’ kind rejoinder.

Both were in their early thirties, and they looked nice. They were tanned and blonde, wearing thin and long beach dresses. She slightly hung her head before she left them to take the order of the four men as one of them caught her attention by raising his hand. He had short-boxed beard and seemed to have a playful look in his eyes.

The four were seated at a table in a corner, on the right side from the entrance. She thought they were all giants, making the place look smaller. All of them were actually looking fierce at first glance, especially the one with long, wavy dark blond hair and arresting bluish gray eyes. He had a pair of well-formed brows, three-day stubble beard that looked sexy, high-bridged nose that could be mistaken as snobbish and inviting peach lips. He wasn’t the handsome type that Rosetta would typically admire. In fact, he wasn’t that handsome but his s*x appeal was oozing. She thought it was weird of her to think this way. And the way he stared at her made her heart jump, and heat crawled on her cheeks. However, she tried to ignore it and looked at the dark-haired man once again.

“Yes, sirs? May I take your order?” She gave them a small smile while immediately readying her small order pad and pen.

All four men transferred their gaze to the menu, which the four held in their hands. Now she had the chance to study the man with long and wavy blond hair. He was well-built, judging by his well-muscled body, which was clad in a fitted white shirt and dark blue jeans. She thought he must be working out in a gym without absent. His thick eyelashes were also dark blond and a bit wavy. Then her gaze fell to his big hands that held the menu. They looked strong, powerful and seemed very capable.

Sexy, her mind whispered. Aisht! Why am I thinking his hands are sexy? She refused to linger on them, especially when her thoughts went wild, imagining how those hands would feel on her body, how they would feel against her soft brown skin…

Suddenly, her throat went dry, and the air was knocked out of her lungs when their eyes met and held. Her heart skipped a couple of beats before it resumed so strongly that she could hear the loudness of it.

“What would you suggest we order…” He paused, moving his gaze slowly to the white nameplate placed just above her left breast. The way he looked at her nameplate as though he could see her naked breast underneath made her gulp. “Rosetta?” he drawled in a Russian accent.

Her breath was caught again that she had to swallow and blink her eyes twice. “Uh… If you love pork, we have adobo, crispy pata, sisig, barbecue and tocino. If you like chicken, we have inasal—it’s grilled—tinola—it’s soup with some chicken meat, vegetables and spices…” she trailed off and cleared her throat, trying to not get conscious as he kept on gawping at her. “And if you like to have dessert, I can recommend the leche flan, banana split and turon.”

“We’ll have all of them, each,” the blond man said in his deep voice. His tone was decisive and forceful.

What? Can they gobble it all?

Her lips parted, feeling dazed for a bit before she went on to remember what she just said and listed them down on her pad quickly. She noticed the dark-haired man chortle, speaking fast in a foreign language, which she couldn’t understand. But yes, she watched enough movies to know these guys were Russians. To her knowledge, Russians were not the usual foreigners that visit Dumaguete City and its neighboring towns. Usually, they were Americans, Norwegians, Swedes, British, Australians and fellow Asians like Koreans, Chinese and Japanese. She wondered why these four people chose to come on this little sock-like island of Negros, not in the more popular ones like Boracay or Palawan.

“Would you like to order some drinks as well?” she queried quietly after listing all the food down. She tried to ask the dark-haired man because she was too conscious to have an eye-to-eye contact with the blond one.

“Just your best beer here,” he said, smiling at her kindly. He turned to the blond man. “Yuri?”

Ah, his name’s Yuri, her mind whispered.

She was forced to look at him, trying to ignore her fast-beating heart.

“I’d like to try any of your Filipino cocktail, which you think is the best,” he uttered quietly, still staring at her pretty face.

Now Rosetta had a problem. She had no idea what was the best Filipino cocktail they had since she wasn’t fond of drinking anything with alcohol.

What local cocktail am I going to serve him?