The Billionaire Is a Jerk

Vanessa's POV

"Vanessa, take the tray to table no 9," ordered Madam Taylor, the restaurant owner. She was usually short-tempered, irritable, and would charge at anyone for the littlest mistakes, but today she seemed oddly cheerful. 

 It was the first time I saw her prepare a meal all by herself for anyone, it was always done by Samuel, the chef. I heard from the other waitresses that the guests over there were related to her, and she wanted to leave them extremely satisfied after today.

I wrapped my messy hair into a loose bun, straightened up my collar, and wiped my tired face with my hand. I barely had any sleep last night because I was on a night shift in my second part-time job and had to rush down here as soon as the clock struck 8 Am.

I was about to pick up the tray when she stopped me, "No, no, no. Don't you know anything about hygiene? My son is a picky eater, and he would never taste food from a place where there's no proper hygiene. Wash your hands clean, go." She ordered, sounding pissed off all of a sudden. She looked tensed like had been preparing for this one event for ages.

"Your son?" I asked back.

"Yes," Madam Taylor said with a wide smile, "I get to see him after so many years. He's here today with his friends and I don't want him to ever forget he has a mother again." She said. 

"Now go and leave them the tray, everything should be perfect." She said.

I picked up the tray after washing my hands properly and sparing a glance at the chef and at her to get a consenting nod before going to table no 9, not knowing what awaits me.

I walked carefully out of the kitchen until I was in front of the table, a bunch of guys was seated, discussing in the presence of alcohol and cigarettes, not sparing a glance at me.

 Madam Taylor never let anyone bring cigarettes to the restaurant, never. Well, maybe her son who she hadn't seen in years was an exception. Now which one was he? I stopped to ask myself for a minute, looking from one face to the other to find any young man with a slight resemblance to her. I didn't find him before hearing a husky voice, "Leave." Said one of the customers at the table no 9. 

"Oh... Ok," I managed to say, wanting to turn to leave when one of the guys at the table held my hand in his, he got up to stand in front of me with his towering height. Now that I look at him, he was the most handsome at the table. He has a huge figure, beautiful hazel eyes, a broad nose, straight lips with a neatly shaved face. He was pretty for a guy, and he looked like a prince who'd jumped out from a fairytale book, only that he wore modern-day clothing. 

My eyes turned lost in his beautiful eyes as I had to look up to meet him. His touch made me feel like I was melting away, and I didn't realize that he had come so close to me until his lips grazed mine, who was I to reject this celebrity-like guy? Who knew if I'd get this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity ever again?

 His lips felt soft on mine and his breath smelt of intoxicating alcohol mixed with bubble gum and somehow, it made butterflies go over my head as I felt a sudden spark between the both of us, just like love at first sight. 

"Will you be my girlfriend? He asked with a voice as cool as the beach on a windy day, and it sent some chills down my spine, making me blush uncontrollably. I've never been asked out by a guy, the feeling was tingling. 

"... Hmm?" I stuttered.

"I like you," he declares.

"You do?" I asked with a cringed face and sprouted lips, after realizing that it was the first time I saw a man so straightforwardly hitting on me. What would a guy like in me? I never thought of myself as “beautiful”.

Just like my brother would say, I should win an award for short people because I couldn't reach the cupboard for anything without stretching or asking for his help. My hair was always messy because I couldn't afford to go to the salon on weekends, they were so expensive, and I spend all my time in the week switching between two greasy uniforms as my jobs wouldn't let me have breaks, my face always looks swollen, especially at morning with all the freckles. Why would any guy want me?

Before I could comprehend more, he removed the golden ring he was wearing on his finger, lifting my hand and fixing it in, the size didn't match my finger, but he left it on.

"Baby, just say yes, I didn't get you a good ring, but I will after tonight." He added.

 The others on the table began chanting "Say yes!" loudly and endlessly which had me confused in making a clear decision. I looked at the stranger's face, he had a genuine look and truthful eyes like he had longed for me forever, but we'd never met. Did he mistake me for someone else?

He went down on one knee, he looked so cute, and I was compelled to accept. "Yes," I muttered softly, I think everyone heard that because the next thing was an outburst of laughter across the room that had the eyes of every other guest at Taylor's Kitchen gawking at me.

He suspended both hands in the air as he surrendered to something, getting up from his kneeling position and turning back to his friends at the table.

"See, I told you any girl would fall for my trick. I am a spec and I know what I am." He boasted with a smirk on his face. "All girls are gold diggers, including my mother." He concluded.

What? He just tricked me??? It got me furious, the thought of me turning into a laughingstock for everyone present here. I picked one glass filled with water, tapped on his shoulder that had him turn back to me. I splattered it on his face and shirt.

"Jerk!!!" 

Before he could utter a word, my hand ran across his face, landing him a loud slap. 

"Shit," he exclaimed, holding his cheek that must have gotten red from my slap. 

"You slapped me?" He asked in realization.

I stood there, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Yes, I did," I replied, my voice laced with frustration. "You deserved it."

He stared at me, a mix of surprise and hurt in his eyes, probably still no believing that I hit him.

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, waiting for his response while fully prepared.

My anger warred with a flicker of curiosity, he hasn't said anything still,

"Did I give you the right to mess with me?!" I asked back. I was highly ashamed for being used as entertainment for everyone. I always loved staying away from the spotlight as my mother said it would only bring me trouble.

"You bitch..." He uttered to land him another slap from me.

"You're a perverted jerk who doesn't know how to act toward women in public, we do not need people like you here to disrupt the peace here, you and your friends should leave before I decided to call security on you," I ranted. Forgetting that Madam Taylor's son should be one of the six guys at the table. Knowing how posh Madam Taylor was, her son would never be this petty right? He must be sophisticated and classy.

"Get up everyone, leave this place and never come back." I ordered everyone of them at the table, trying to shoo them out of the shop before they cause me trouble.

The jerk seized my hand quickly, twisting it behind my back which had me scream out loud. He was going to dislocate my arms if he didn't stop. His lips moved close to my ear with his hitching breath, "You know, you're going to pay for hitting me with this filthy hand of yours, no? No woman would dare to do what you did just now, how about I break your little fingers pompom, or you settle me?" He asked.

"Get the fuck off me!" I screamed, and it caused Madam Taylor and the head chef to come outside due to the commotion.

"What is going on here?!" She roared. Seeing her here made me gain some sort of confidence, I began to explain myself first.

"Thank God you're here," I exclaimed, removing my hand from his the moment he lost focus.

"This foolish pervert was trying to create a scene here, perhaps for some YouTube subscribers by pranking me, I made sure to teach him a lesson with a hard slap-"

Slap! My ears rang the moment her long fingers landed on my face, "What are you doing with my son Vanessa?!" Wait, son? I stood perplexed for a minute with the sounds still ringing in my ear, wait, son! I asked myself again, but before I could reason clearly, she gave me something hotter this time by throwing hot coffee on my face.

"How dare you insult my son you wretch?!" Her voice had turned hoarse, and she was boiling in anger.

"Taylor, is this why you invited me here? To disgrace me?" The jerk asked her directly.

Madam Taylor looked sad, tears almost dropping from her eyes as she tried to explain herself. He pushed down everything thing from the table with clattering sounds, roaring frustratingly like he was about to transform into something else in the next moment. He was a psycho.

He turned to me and I almost flinched from the spot because of the dark expression on his face, "Don't let me set eyes on you ever again, I swear the next time I do, you'd be roasted for real."

"I guess my father was right, I never needed to see you, TAYLOR. I should be fine without you."

 He turned to his friends at the table, "Let's go." He ordered, they all got up and left. I watch them leave before realizing I was roasted for real. I got pulled by my ear down to the kitchen.