The Billionaire Bull

by Romi Hart

  With one raised brow, he grinned at me. “Good? Just Good? Not great? Not spectacular?”

  I should’ve expected him to look at me that way. After all, I had gone on and on about the place. “I’ve never had anything like it,” I said, looking at my steak. It was just the tiniest bit over-cooked in my opinion. And I had ordered it a different way. “But, I ordered medium rare.”

  Without missing a beat, he shoved another piece of meat into his mouth. “You thinking about complaining?”

  “Ronnie, man, if we were at the normal chain restaurants we usually go to, then it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…” I leaned in close and whispered, as I didn’t want anyone to hear me whining about the amount this steak was going to cost me. “This steak will cost me ninety dollars.”

  “What?” Ronnie nearly choked on his Maronesa. “I just ordered the sirloin. It’s twenty bucks and ridiculously delicious.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I grew up on Argentinian beef. I wanted to get the premium, the very best this place has to offer. I love steak. Great steak. And that’s why I splurged this one time.”

  Ronnie stabbed a fork into a slice of my steak. “Sorry, but I’ve got to see what a ninety-dollar steak tastes like.”

  “Help yourself,” I said, stabbing my fork into his Maronesa. It was fantastically flavorful with a complex cured taste.

  Ronnie chewed my chuletón slowly closing his eyes in awe. “Dude, that is so good.”

  It was good. That was a given. But it wasn't cooked to what I had asked for. "It is, but is it medium rare?"

  He rolled his eyes then admitted, “No, sir. It is not.”

  Our waitress, a tall blonde girl with oversize black frame glasses, stopped at our table, a smile on her face, a hand on her round hip. “How is everything?”

  My steak was good. I could have just let it go, but I felt like I had to let her know I had ordered it differently, “I only have one minor complaint, I ordered medium rare. Not medium well, which this is. But this is great. Delicious. Just a bit overcooked for me.”

  The waitress’s face fell. She pulled out a tiny notebook from her pocket quickly flipping through the pages. Then her hand went to cover her gaping mouth. “Oh my god. I misread my handwriting. I distinctly remember you ordering medium rare, but I must have told the kitchen medium well when I read my terrible handwriting.” She flashed me her messy miniature script. Indeed it was difficult to decipher.

  Tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I feel terrible. I’ll be right back.” She lifted my plate with a shaky hand and turned to leave.

  Guilt rose in my chest. The steak was medium well, but it was still magnificent. I reached for her wrist, stopping her from retrieving my plate. “That’s okay. That won’t be necessary. It’s delicious regardless.”

  Her eyes shone with relief momentarily, but then she said, “No. I remember you saying medium rare. I read my handwriting wrong. You shouldn’t have to pay for a meal you didn’t order.”

  She reached for my plate again, but I stopped her once more. “Please. No. It’s perfectly okay. I’m enjoying my meal.”

  “I’m so sorry for the mix-up,” she apologized again then hurried to the kitchen.

  Ronnie speared another piece of my steak with his fork. “You made our waitress cry, you big ol’ meanie.”

  He was right. But she wasn't the first girl I'd made cry. Seeing tears pour down reddened cheeks as I broke one heart after another had me kind of immune to their power. "She'll be fine. You'd be surprised what a girl can get over."

  My eyes caught sight of a woman coming back out of the door our waitress had gone into. Her eyes were on me as she headed my way. She had on a black chef coat and black pants. The dark clothing along with her dark hair made her big green eyes pop. Her lashes were long and thick, giving her a Disney princess, doe-eyed look.

  She’s hands down, the most authentically beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

  I stared at her full lips as they parted and a sweet voice came out of that perfect mouth, “Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Jasmine Fontaine. I’m the owner’s daughter. Nia has alerted me to the incorrect preparation of your steak.”

  The words tumbled out of my mouth as I was a little awestruck by her. “I’m, uh, um, Alex. Um, Alex Cantrell.”

  Lifting his fork up in a half salute, my friend chimed in, “I’m Ronnie Watson.”

  “Nice to meet you both.” She gave him a nice smile. A professional smile. I wondered what her normal smile was like. I bet it was something that could make birds sing and butterflies dance. Then her doe-like eyes turned to mine. “Another steak is being prepared for you.”

  “Please. You don’t have to do that,” I said, feeling shittier and shittier by the minute for even mentioning anything was wrong with my steak in the first place.

  She waved her hand as if it wasn’t a problem at all. I knew better. That steak was expensive, and they had gone to a lot of trouble already just to make one for me. I didn’t need another one, but she seemed set on pleasing me. “It’s already being done. Can I offer the two of you a complimentary bottle of wine?”

  Ronnie’s response was immediate, “Sure!”

  Jasmine smiled and presented the bottle she held behind her back to Ronnie. She began to open it with graceful execution. As she poured us two full glasses, she added, “Both of your meals will be on the house this evening.”

  I was mortified. I hadn’t meant to get anything for free. I wasn’t that kind of patron. “No. Please. That won’t be necessary.”

  I was trying to be the good guy while Ronnie seemed over the moon about the free meal. “Awesome!”

  Jasmine smiled at me. I was shocked to find my heart speeding up. This wasn’t like me. I didn’t get giddy over girls. They got giddy over me. “Yes. It is necessary. My father takes great pride in his meat and its preparation. We apologize for your steak not being prepared in the manner you originally wanted.”

  “Our waitress isn’t going to get in trouble, will she?” I asked. I would hate myself if she had to face consequences over my complaint.

  “No, sir. Don’t worry about her. She’s my cousin. She’s got this job whether she wants it or not.” She winked at me, and I felt my heart flip over and over in my chest.

  This beautiful girl just winked at me – and my cock just jerked inside my slacks!

  I tried to act cool. Like she didn’t affect me more than any other female ever had. “I’m so glad. She’s been an excellent server.”

  Ronnie agreed, “She’s fantastic.” He paused and then asked, “Is she single?”

  Jasmine laughed. “Sadly, Nia is not single. She just met someone in one of her classes last semester.”

  Ronnie wasn’t one to give up too easily. “Yeah? Does she go to UF?”

  Jasmine nodded. “Yes.” I watched her as she stepped away from our table. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Don’t go…

  I wanted a few more moments with her. Quickly, I asked, “Do you go to UF? We do.” I gestured with my thumb to Ronnie and me.

  Jasmine’s face slightly fell as she laid a hand on her chest and said, “Me?” Then she shook her head regretfully, “No. Not me.” Taking a few more steps away, her smile returned as she said, “Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

  Then, she was gone. She walked away from the table, leaving me stunned and wanting to see her again almost immediately after she’d left.

  I looked at Ronnie who was pouring himself another glass of wine. Then lifted my glass to my lips, taking only a small sip. “Did you see how beautiful that girl was? She didn’t even have any makeup on, and her hair was up in that bun, but wow.”

  “She was really beautiful, dude.” A goofy grin pulled his lips up at the corners. “You got a crush?”

  “I don’t get crushes. I just get the girl I want.” I smiled back at him.

  I wanted the girl, and I always got what I wanted. Now, how could I get to her again to make that happen?


  Jasmine

  In the bathroom, my legs were jelly. I leaned over the sink to splash water on my face. The water was shockingly cold as it hit my skin, but I still felt flushed all over. My heart raced beneath my chef coat. I took deep breaths to calm myself.

  Nia came to me in a panic over a mistake with a customer’s steak. I rushed out to the dining room to apologize, not even considering that the customer might be the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life.

  Thinking about how I might have looked out there, I cringed. Had I been noticeably sweaty? Was my hair in place? Did he notice the look on my face when I saw his?

  The customer, Alex, was ruggedly handsome with gorgeous brown eyes and dark brown hair. When he talked to me, I could swear his eyes sparkled like brown tourmaline gemstones. And his smile - That million-dollar smile and striking square jaw. I could tell he was lean and muscular from how his dress shirt fit around his shoulders. Ryan Gosling had nothing on this guy. Even Ryan Reynolds needed to have a seat.

  Patting a paper towel over my face, I looked at my reflection, wincing at how disheveled I looked. “Oh, God, I’m a mess.”

  Nia walked into the bathroom. “Jasmine, I’m so so sorry!”

  Pulling myself together, I threw the paper towel in the waste bin. “Don’t worry about it,” I assured her.

  Nia was my cousin and basically lived the life I’d always wanted. She was tall, thin, gorgeous, and blonde. She could have been a model, but she had her heart set on being a doctor. Growing up, I always felt inadequate when standing next to her.

  My cousin’s pretty face was twisted in worry. “But I just cost the restaurant a lot of money because of my mistake.”

  “Just do me a favor and become a doctor, ok? You already have the handwriting of one,” I joked to ease her anxiety.

  Nia gave me a smile. “What about Uncle Jose?”

  I waved her off. “Don’t worry about my dad.”

  Glancing back at my reflection, I realized that Alex was just being nice. He only flashed me that swoon-worthy smile because he was polite. There was no way he’d go for me if someone like my cousin was around. Nia was so sweet too. Beautiful, leggy, and sweet natured. She was a triple threat.

  I wanted to get one more glance at Alex though, so I cut through the dining room to get back to the kitchen. He was beautiful and probably not someone I’d ever see again unless he came back to the restaurant. Quickly, I walked by his table, trying my best to act nonchalant when I was grabbed by my arm.

  His fingers clutched around my wrist were electric. “Jasmine, are you free any night this week?”

  Am I dreaming?

  I looked down at my wrist enveloped in his hand, stunned. Alex must have thought I was offended because he swiftly released me. Then tripped over his words, “Maybe, um, you’d like to go to, uh a movie?” He swallowed hard then coolness took over his expression, turning him back into the suave man he’d been before. “Your choice. And dinner? At a place, you know, where you don’t work?”

  My cheeks felt hot again. All I wanted to do was jump up and down and scream, ‘Yes!’

  Before I could answer, my father called me over from the kitchen. “Jasmine!” his voiced bellowed.

  I looked at Alex’s beautiful brown eyes and magnanimous smile. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to talk to my dad and ask when I can have a night off.”

  Back in the kitchen, my dad’s eyes were on fire. The kitchen staff tried to look busy, but I knew they were listening to our every word. “I just saw what happened out there. What was that man doing holding your hand?”

  “He wasn’t holding my hand, Dad. He was asking me out on a date.” I could see the flames of my dad’s building anger in his face. I assured him, “Dad, he’s a nice guy. He’s a student at the University of Florida.”

  He jabbed a finger at me. “In my office. Now.”

  I followed my dad to what he called his office but was really the building he had behind the restaurant where he hung his meat. My father had the building designed to resemble the interior of a cave: stone walls and low sloped ceilings. The lighting in the cave was always low since my father believed his buey needed a restful environment to mature.

  Surrounded by slabs of hanging meat, my dad laid into me. “Jasmine, you have no time for boys especially a boy from that school. College boys are only going to use you, and then leave for something or someone better when their schooling is over.”

  Crossing my arms, I sighed heavily. I’d heard this speech before from my father. When my brother and I were little, my mother was a stay at home mom. After she earned her degree at the University of Florida, she left us to pursue her Ph.D. and quite possibly to escape my father, who was on the controlling side.

  “Dad, it’s just a date!” I protested.

  “That’s how it begins,” my dad said, turning away from me.

  “Dad! You can’t…” I began.

  But, he interrupted me as he spun around. “Go back to the kitchen now!” His voice was loud and seething and he turned to leave. I quieted, staring at the back of my father’s head. “I’ll turn that boy down for you,” he said quietly. “Go back to work.”

  I wanted to scream at him, but I knew it would do no good.

  For the rest of the dinner shift, I zoned out, trying to focus on my tasks and to stop thinking about Alex and my father. At the end of the night, in the walk-in, when most of the kitchen staff had gone home for the night, my brother, Joseph, asked me, “You okay?”

  I stopped taking inventory, dropping my hand to my side. “Joseph, what am I doing here?”

  Joseph stepped behind me and looked over my shoulder. “Inventorying the butter?”

  “No, I mean, I turned twenty-one in April. And Dad still treats me like a teenager. I thought things would change, but they haven’t.” I sat down on a crate, tossing my clipboard down on the floor.

  Joseph picked it up. He turned around to continue where I had left off. That was just like my little brother, always eager to help me out.

  “You know, UF just started an interdisciplinary program in Food Science and Culinary Arts. You should start doing things you’ve always dreamt of, Jas. I think you should apply.”

  Tapping my foot against a bin full of potatoes, I asked, “How would I be able to do that without Dad finding out?”

  Joseph turned around, sliding his pen behind his ear. “We both work the day and evening shifts together. I’ll cover for you. Besides, Dad spends most of his time on the farm with his oxen and doesn’t show up to the restaurant until right before the dinner rush. You would be free to take classes all day.”

  “I don’t know, Joseph,” I said glumly.

  “Being a prep cook for Dad’s restaurant will never be enough for you. Didn’t you say, you always wanted to find a way to bring Dad’s extraordinary meat to the rest of the world?”

  “Ya, but Dad won’t go for it. He doesn’t trust the internet,” I groaned, lamenting my father's old-fashioned ways.

  Joseph was persistent. “If you had a Food Science degree, he might. I want you to be happy, Jas.”

  I loved my family and the business, the farm and restaurant; my father had built. He’d accomplished the amazing task of raising rare breeds of oxen and a bereft son and daughter who missed their mother. My father was strict with a short fuse, but he’d been heartbroken from my mother’s absence just as much, if not even more than we were. He’d pushed that heartbreak aside to raise us. I owed him.

  I took the clipboard back from Joseph. “Thanks. Finish up your closing work. I don’t want to be here all night,” I said jokingly.

  He nodded. “Just think about it. Don’t let this be all you ever are, Jas. You have a lot more to offer. You should know that.”

  Before he stepped out of the walk-in, I asked, “You really think I can do it?”

  Joseph nodded thoughtfully. “Jas, you can do anything.”

  Can I?

  Jasmine

  My nerves were a wreck. That mo
rning, I said bye to my dad like nothing especially interesting would happen that day, but it was my first day at UF.

  Keeping things the way they always had been, Joseph and I rode together, keeping Dad unsuspecting of anything. Joseph dropped me off next to campus. “Have a great first day, Jas.”

  “Thanks.” I took a deep breath before opening the door. “Meet you at the restaurant after my last class. I’ll call an Uber to take me.”

  Joseph nodded. “Sure thing.” I went to get out of the car, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “And don’t worry about Dad. He never comes into the restaurant before dinner. Just focus on your classes.”

  I wandered around campus with my head buried in a map, looking for the Food Science and Human Nutrition Buildings. The campus map had it right next to the Dairy Pond and McCarty Hall, all four McCarty Halls. I flipped the map upside down as I looked at the building next to me: McCarty Hall B. That meant Food Science must be back behind it toward the East end of campus. I flipped the map upright again. Or did that mean it was on the Western side?

  I was utterly confused.

  Just then, as I turned my map upside down one more time, someone collided right into me. “Oh, shit! Sorry,” some guy mumbled at me.

  “No, it’s my fault,” I quickly took the blame as it was mine to take.

  The collision had sent my map flying away. Without that map, I’d be lost all day. Envisioning myself walking around like a blindfolded kid playing Marco Polo for the rest of the day, I chased after the map as the wind picked it up, fluttering it further away from me.

  From behind me, I heard the guy who’d ran into me yell, “I’ll get it!” He jogged past me, elegantly retrieving the map with one easy swoop of his very muscular arm. As he walked back towards me, map in hand, I realized it was Alex from the restaurant a few weeks before.

  Oh shit! What should I do now? Act cool, Jas, it’s just a guy. Just a totally hot, sexy as sin guy. Who seems to be making my body super-heated with just his presence alone.