Being His

I had honestly had enough. Today had been the craziest day of my life. And not in the I-met-a-hot-stranger-and-fell-in-love-with-him way. More in the I-hate-my-fucking-life-and-I-can’t-wait-to-be-rich way.

I had been at work since morning, and I had had: a baby puked on me, an old man catcalled me and almost groped me, someone poured water on me, and my boss berated me for letting someone pour water on me.

So it was safe to say that I was honestly fed up today and all I wanted to do was go back home, strip, shower, and sleep.

I sighed as I noticed a group of men walk in. And sit right in my section. They were each attractive in their own way. But that didn’t matter. Actually, it mattered.

Some of the attractive men who got in here seemed to think I was supposed to worship them for letting me serve them. And they got all irritated when I just gave polite smiles and answers to their rude and lewd remarks.

I took in a deep breath and walked to the table, putting an utterly fake smile on my face. If I was nice enough, I was going to get great tips.

“Hello, good evening, and welcome to La Table du Chef. Here are your menus,” I said, sliding five menus to these men. Then I smiled again and said, “When you’re ready to order, just ring for me!”

I walked back self-consciously. I hoped I had been professional enough not to let them bug me but also nice enough to get tips later.

There was nobody to tease me about getting a table full of hot men. My coworkers hated me. It was justified, I guess. But it wasn’t easy working in an environment where all you received were hostile stares and snide comments.

I tapped my fingertips on the counter, waiting kinda anxiously for the men to ring for me. They didn’t disappoint.

I walked back to the table with my notepad and a prepared smile on my face. “Made your choices yet?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I got the uncanny feeling that someone was watching me. I shifted a bit nervously but didn’t bother checking around.

“We haven’t been able to make up our minds yet, unfortunately,” one of them said with a sneaky smile. “So, we were hoping you’d recommend something.”

I was kind of caught off guard. And I had absolutely no idea what to recommend. The restaurant was kind of upper class (which explained why these men were here), and our boss was extremely cheap and didn’t let us have free food.

“Well, I...” I started but was genuinely at a loss. Before I could continue, though, one of the men interrupted me.

“We’ve made our choices. Don’t let this idiot tell you otherwise,” the man said, and I almost melted. I looked over at him, and I had to stop my mouth from dropping.

It wasn’t that he was the most attractive person I had ever seen in my life. He was honestly not. But he had this thing going for him. And coupled with his deep and sexy voice, it was almost like he was made for heaven.

“I- um, okay.” In spite of the fact that a Greek god was casually sitting in front of me, I was still really confused.

I chanced another look in his direction, and I noticed he was already looking at me. I turned my gaze elsewhere and waited for the men to give me their orders.

I wrote the orders down and went to the kitchen. As soon as I got in, I let out a deep breath. It was almost as if I could finally breathe again. I didn’t know why this man had that much of an effect on me.

I smiled warmly at the chef as I gave him the order list, but all he did was give me a blank look. I sighed. I don’t why I had expected his attitude towards me to change. I was just going to have to get used to it.

I took the drinks the men had asked for to their table. As soon as I reached, they stopped talking. It was a strange feeling, having so many eyes on you all at once.

I tried my best to set the drinks down as carefully as I could, making sure not to mess anything up. It was hard, but I set up their drinks, and I managed not to look at him.

I walked back to the kitchen and watched from outside. It was quite late, and so we were just a handful that was still working. This was how I preferred it. As I said, my co-workers hated me, and it was hard working with people when you knew they could mess up your job at any time.

I smiled gratefully at the chef as he set the plates on the counter, ignoring his baleful looks. I just wanted to serve these men and go back home. I wanted to shower and sleep

I set the food in front of each person, and as I was about to leave, he stopped me. He freaking held my hand. I stopped and looked at him.

When he noticed he had my attention, he let go of my hand. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

“You didn’t get my order right.”

“Pardon?” I asked. I had heard him clearly, but I didn’t want to think about the implications of my actions. First, he could report me and actually get me fired (it could happen). I desperately needed this job, and I couldn’t let that happen.

The second option, while not the best, was better than the first. I could place another order for him, and I would have to pay for the first. And let me tell you one thing. This restaurant is so expensive.

“You didn’t get my order right.” He repeated this in the same tone. It was level and his voice again. He didn’t sound aggravated, but then again, I didn’t even know the man.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that, sir. Let me go chan-”

He didn’t even let me finish my sentence. “No,” he said.

“No?” I didn’t understand this man. Why then had he called me?

He stood without answering my question, and I swallowed. His friends were still sitting there, and none of them were looking our way.

He took my hand, and we walked to the bar. My heart was beating so fast. I didn’t know what this man wanted, and I wasn’t really sure I wanted to find out.

“You need this job?” he asked. I nodded tremulously.

He put his hand into his pocket and removed something. A card. He put it in my hand and then said, “Call me.”

That was it. That was all. He went back to his table, and his friends suddenly got up and left. All five of them. I hadn’t given them the bill or anything.

With the card still in my hand, I saw a wad of cash lying on the table, and I was pretty sure it was way more than the food had cost.

I looked at the table and closed my eyes. Then I looked down at the card.

Roman Reeves.