The Billionairess

Montgomery's was busy that night. Each of the white-clothed tables was dotted with couples, a buzz of chatter flittering over the room. I picked up the remaining wine glass off the corner table, then dropped it into my plastic bucket. "Yo, busboy!" My roommate Lance called over from the other side of the restaurant. "Got another table that needs clearing!" I hurried over across the restaurant, avoiding the stream of guests and waiters. Once I was there I swept the table clear, the plates and silverware clinking into the bucket. "Yo, Thomas" Lance said, nudging my shoulder. He jammed a thumb behind his back, pointing at two girls that just sat down at a table. "What'd you say? You take the brunette, I take the blonde?" "Lance, we're on duty" I said. "Oh, come on man" he said. "If anything, flirting with guests will get us tips." "It's also creepy and unprofessional" "Fine, more s*x and tips for me" Lance ballooned over to the table. At that moment, I felt a tiny hand tap playfully at my shoulder. "Hey, Thomas" I turned to see Emily back from break. She was gleaming at me as she usually did, eyes glittering and grin stretched onto her blushing face. "Sup, Emily" "Mr. Albany needs two tables put together for a group, but I can't carry it to the other side of the room. Could you maybe help me?" I glanced over at the table she was gesturing to. I put down the bucket, and rolled up my sleeves. Just across the room I could see Lance and the two pretty girls watching me. My palms clasp on the edge, and I pushed. The damn thing moved an inch, then stuck in place. I tried again, already a bead of sweat running down my face. I felt like such a weakling. I finally gave up and stood up. "Let me help you there, buddy" Lance placed his hands on the edge, and pushed the table with ease to the other wall next to the first. The veins bulged in his muscular, tan arms. "Are you going to let Lance one up you like that?" Emily asked. "I don't know how I could one up him" I said. Emily pursed her lips, her eyes surveying my body and her hand squeezed at my bicep. Clearly checking for muscle she wouldn't find. I was a stick-figure drawing compared to Lance, who looked like a surfer with his blonde fringe, manly stubble, and muscles. "So, Thomas" she said, nudging her hip into mine. "We have work off tomorrow, and I heard you were going to see that new space movie. Have anyone in mind you'd like to take with you?" I could see what she was doing. Throwing little hints that she wanted me to ask her out. I never understood why girls did that. If she wanted to go out with me, why didn't she just ask me herself? I guess it didn't matter, because I would say no either way. Emily was a nice girl. She and Lance both went to the same university as me, and we'd worked at Montgomery's together since freshman year. It had been clear since then that she liked me as more than a friend. But I just couldn't see her that way. She was friendly, and I guess what most guys would call hot. Long red hair, nice body, pretty smile. But there was just something about her that didn't click with me. Besides, I don't think I was quite the guy she wanted me to be. Nor the kind any girl would want. I picked a wine glass off the table and stared at my reflection in it. I couldn't imagine I was the kind of guy that turned heads. I wasn't exactly the most attractive guy around. I was tall, awkwardly skinny, my face dotted with more acne than any cream could ever fix. My dark hair was curly in a way that was more cute than sexy.I wasn't athletic like most of the guys at my university, so I didn't have any muscle or physical strength for that matter. I didn't have any of the alpha male qualities girls seemed to like. I glanced up at Lance, who was standing by the table by the front window talking to the two girls. They were giggling, probably at something incredibly charming he just said. Being a smooth-talker helped a guy more than just getting tips as waiter. Then there was me, the guy who could barely look a girl in the eye without turning into a stuttering i***t. I put the wine glass in the bucket, then made my way towards the kitchen. I gently set the dishes in the sink to be cleaned after work. At that moment, Mr. Albany burst in. "Alright, everyone" he said. "If you were falling asleep before, you better snap up now. We have an important guest." Like pressing a fast-forward button, the activity in the kitchen suddenly picked up pace. The chefs began mincing faster. A flare of fire flicked loudly from the stove. Lance pushed through the doors quickly. "What's happening?" I asked. "What special guest?" "Dude, the Ice Queen is here" he said. "The who?" Lance rolled his eyes, then grabbed my arm and pulled me though the kitchen doors. The eating area was filled with excited noise. Everyone had their heads turned to the front entrance. A stream of paparazzi clustered by the doors. The glass-wooden doors opened, and a woman stepped through. The cameras began to flash. Through the clicking lights, I caught a glimpse of her. My heart dropped in my stomach then jumped up to my throat. The blood began to rush to every part of my body. She was older, older than me anyway. She was tall, willowy thin under a wavy blue dress and white fur coat. Her eyes were lined with dark makeup and her lips the color of crimson, which stood out against her skin, as pale as the moon. Another person walked through the door. A large, burly man in a grey suit with slicked back hair. My heart sunk as I watched the woman link her arm with his. No way in hell I could compete with a guy like that. "Man, this place will get some publicity now" Lance said. "Maybe one of those photographers will mention us in an article. Business will be booming by tomorrow and we'll be getting seriously paid." But I barley heard a word he said. I was too busy being trapped in utter awestruck by the Venus that had just entered the restaurant. "Thomas" Emily said, pulling my sleeve and breaking me from my trance. "You're drooling." I whipped my mouth on my sleeve, but then continued to watch her. The man in the suit guided her to a table, and she gracefully sat down. "What'd I tell ya?" Lance said, elbowing me. "Hot, ain't she?" "She's beautiful" I breathed. "Well, you might just have a chance to speak to her" a pitcher of icy water shoved into my hands. "The glasses at their table aren't full. Get to it, busboy." My stomach lurched inside me. I glanced up at the table. The goddess and her date were flipping through their menus. With a gulp, I followed Lance to their table. "Hey, welcome to Montgomery's" Lance said in his usual calm and relaxed tone. "Would you like to hear our specials?" The water pitcher shook in my hands. I started with the man's drink, then moved to the woman's. I was trembling all over. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn't look at her. Could I? Would that be creepy? I dared a quick glance up at her. Indeed, she was watching me. My eyes darted away as soon as they looked up. Once her glass was full, I speed-walked all the way back to the kitchen. I took a deep breath as I set the pitcher down on the counter. I pressed my back against a wall and rubbed my face. God damn, she was gorgeous. Her eyes were the color of the ocean in the evening. Every model I had ever seen on a magazine cover suddenly appeared grotesque and plastic. They were a fake beautiful. She was real, true beautiful. I peeked through the glass windows in the kitchen door. Through the foggy glass I got a perfect view of her table. The man in the suit was speaking to her, but she didn't seem that interested. She was swirling her water glass around, staring at it. Was something wrong? Had I poured too much? My hands twisted nervously at my sleeve. Another waiter brought her and her guest two wine glasses, and the sommelier poured them some red wine. But the woman kept sipping her water while her date chugged down the wine like it were a mug of beer at a sports bar. "Thomas?" Emily poked my shoulder, and I turned around. "What're you doing? You know there are at least three tables that need water refills." "Sorry" I said. "It's just..."I glanced over my shoulder back at the table. The woman was almost done with her water. I pointed at her. "Who..." "Oh, that's Tristen Grey" Emily said. "He's the CEO of Grey Inc. He's pretty hot, isn't he? I once saw a shirtless picture of him in People, and his abs are smoking." "No, I mean the woman" Emily's smile disappeared. "Oh, that's Rose Delacourt. She's the CEO of Delacourt Enterprises. People call her the 'Ice Queen.'" "Why the 'Ice Queen'?" "From what I've heard, she's a total b***h" Emily threw a glare through the window. "Her employees say she rules her business with an iron fist. Bossy as hell, but apparently gets the job done really well. Her employees are some of the hardest-working in the country because of her. That's why she's a billionaire, apparently." She raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?" I gulped and shrugged. "I don't know. She's just...kind of pretty, I guess." Yeah, and the ocean is pretty wet, I guess. "I guess she's kind of pretty" Emily said. "But she's way too old for you." I rolled my eyes. Why were girls always in competition with each other? Why couldn't they just find each other pretty and move on? The door hit my back as it opened. Lance poked his head in. "Sorry, bro" he said. "Hey, Miss Delacourt wants her water glass refilled" "Doesn't she already have wine?" He shrugged. "b***h wants water now." He disappeared, and I glanced back at Emily. She already had the pitcher and shoved it into my hands and pushed me out the door. I turned to walk back to the table, but I stopped in my tracks. "You are the most stubborn woman on the face of this earth!" Tristen yelled, slamming his palm on the table, making the silverware rattle. Rose seemed unfazed by his outburst. She took a calm sip of her water, and set it elegantly down on the table. Everyone in the room was watching them, many of which had their phones out already set to social media. "I told you, I'm not drinking tonight" she said. "I appreciate your offer, Mr. Grey, but I'm fine with just water, thank you." "I spend four-hundred dollars on fine wine, and you won't drink it?" "Thank you, Mr. Grey, but I'm not interested. I'll reimburse--" "I don't need your money!" he said. "I want your compliance, woman!" Tristen grabbed his wine glass off the table. Just as his hands swung down to snatch it, I knew what was about to happen. In a sudden moment, all my thoughts disappeared and I bolted across the room, the water pitcher falling to the ground. I threw myself in front of Rose just as the glass came flying. Red wine flung across my face and chest before it could hit Rose. The room hushed to silence. I stood there, wine dripping from my face, my hair, my clothes. I stood there paralyzed as Tristen stared at me, a mix of shock and anger in his grey eyes. My body suddenly jerked to life when my senses returned. I looked down at Rose, who was watching with fright in her eyes, her hands gripping her chair. I gulped, then gently took her water glass off the table. "Let me refill your water for you, Miss Delacourt" I stuttered. I walked quickly back to the kitchen, trying to avoid the stares of all the other guests as I walked by, then ran once I was through the doors.