The Billionaire and the Waitress

by Constance Masters

  “It’s ok,” she mouthed back over the noise of the audience.

  * * *

  Chelsea tried to stop the tears that threatened to escape. For goodness’ sake, everyone was watching her, she couldn’t cry. Have some pride, girl. Why did she even care? It wasn’t like she had a right to expect anything from the guy, especially after the way she’d treated him. She did though and it irritated her. Then there was the elephant in the room. She looked over to where Tom was standing, chest all puffed out, triumphant now that he’d won. Thank the heavens she got to pick where they went on the date.

  Chapter Three

  Josh talked to the people at the desk before heading outside for some air. He sat down on a bench, chiding himself for being such an idiot. He’d probably just messed up his only chance with Chelsea. Not only that, but she’d have to endure a date with her arrogant boss. That snake. He didn’t finish his thought because the man of the hour was next to him with his manicured hand shoved out toward him. He should have known the man wouldn’t miss an opportunity to gloat.

  “No hard feelings, hey? All’s fair in love and war.”

  Josh took the wet fish hand and squeezed it hard until he heard the man’s breath quickening with discomfort. “If you hurt her, try to force yourself on her, embarrass her, hell, if you so much as insult the color of her dress, you will be sorrier than you ever thought possible. I’m not a violent man but I could buy your diner and have it shipped to my house in Dallas and put it inside my kitchen. I’m not afraid of you.” He let go of Tom’s hand and smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  “I will.” Tom flashed his smile, although this time with slightly less enthusiasm.

  * * *

  “Good morning,” Chelsea said pleasantly. “What can I get you?”

  “Just coffee, please. Take out.” It was the day Josh had planned to start his painting job at the school, but Mark had phoned; things needed his attention so he had decided to go back to the city for a few days. He would start the painting when he returned. Not that he was even obligated to do the jobs from the auction, since he had ended up getting outbid. But it would give him an excuse to stick around for a while, and at this point just about any opportunity to spend more time with Chelsea was worth the effort in his book.

  “Coming right up.”

  While he waited for his coffee, Josh tried to figure out what he should say. What could he say? “I know I had enough money to win the auction but I didn’t think to use it”? No, better to leave it. No point in telling her he was coming back to do the work either; it’d just come across as him trying to gain her attentions.

  “Here you go,” Chelsea said, handing him the cup.

  Josh took the cup with a smile and then left, unable to find the right words. Hopefully he’d be able to start again when he got back.

  * * *

  “I see you’ve got your armor on,” Sophie said with a giggle. “Aren’t you going to feel the heat?”

  “Maybe a little,” Chelsea said, dragging at the tight neck of her turtleneck sweater. She and Tom were going on their date. They were going bowling, which hadn’t really impressed Tom but had made her feel a little better. There would be people all around and if worst came to worst, she could drop a ball on his foot.

  “Ready yet, Chelsea?” Tom called from outside the storeroom door. “I should be picking you up at your door.”

  “My door is round the back and up the stairs, Tom, this is practically the same thing.” Chelsea rolled her eyes at Soph, who giggled into her hand.

  “Not to mention that there’s strength in numbers.” her friend whispered back.

  “You got someone in there with you?”

  “Just Sophie. She was helping me with my hair.” Chelsea opened the door and his face fell.

  “You get on back to work, Sophie.” Tom grumbled. “I ain’t paying you to play dress-up.”

  Sophie scooted past him but then saluted behind his back, making Chelsea grin. “Have fun,” she mouthed.

  “Girl, you do know it’s summer, right?”

  “Yeah, but the bowling alley tends to keep their air on really cold.”

  “I would have kept you warm, little darlin’.”

  Chelsea felt her stomach flip and not in the good way. “We should really get going or we’ll lose our lane.” She tried not to recoil when he settled his hand on her lower back to guide her out of the diner. She couldn’t help wondering how different this would have been if it were Josh she was going on a date with. For a start, she probably wouldn’t have chosen bowling, although bowling with Josh may have been fun.

  * * *

  They were a mismatched pair. Chelsea in winter garb, her hair hanging down her back like a protective blanket and Tom dressed in a matched set of gaudiness: a new pair of jeans with professional cuts in them that exposed a fair amount of thick black curly leg hair and a T-shirt that did the same with his chest hair via a gaping neckline. Chelsea wasn’t too sure he should wear them together, or at all. His long hair was tied in a ponytail at the back of his head, which set off the diamond earring that he had in one ear and the huge cross that was partially hidden within the forest on his chest.

  The small talk in the car was painfully awkward to the point where Chelsea almost laughed. It wiped the smile from her face though when Tom’s hand left the steering wheel and crept toward her knee. She grabbed up her bag and plopped it down on her lap, effectively blocking his access. The thought of him touching her even while she was fully clothed made her skin crawl. She let out an inaudible breath. God knows she’d been on some bad dates before, but so far this one sucked.

  When they got to the counter, Chelsea almost burst out laughing as things went from bad to worse. It appeared he had never been bowling or if he had, he didn’t remember. The look on Tom’s face was classic.

  “I couldn’t possibly,” he said to the boy behind the counter.

  “Please yourself, but you can’t use the lanes if you’re not wearing bowling shoes.” The boy pointed to the rule sign.

  “Do you sell new shoes?”

  “Yes,” the boy said, passing another customer a pair of shoes.

  Chelsea already had hers on. She didn’t see the big deal with rented shoes and she was enjoying the exchange between Tom and the shoe guy. The latter was really bored with the shoe problem and probably the job in general. The former was on alert, the thought of someone insisting that he wear shoes that had been on someone else’s feet as terrifying as drinking poison. Although relief washed over Tom’s tanned face at the boy’s answer.

  “Good, that’s good. I’ll take a pair in a size nine, please.”

  “No can do.” the boy said.

  Chelsea watched as Tom’s face went from fake tan orange to a sort of burnt orangey brown. She’d seen that color at work when something went wrong. It was hard to take an angry person seriously when they looked like a puffed-up Oompa-Loompa.

  “Why not? You said you sold shoes. I would like to buy a pair.”

  “You can, tomorrow after nine. The girl who does the fittings will be in then.”

  “I don’t need them tomorrow and I don’t need a fitting. I need a pair of size nine shoes and I need them now! Now get them!”

  “Do I need to get security?”

  Chelsea actually felt a bit sorry for Tom now. He was a pompous, arrogant ass, but he just didn’t live in the same world as everyone else. “You know what? Instead of actually bowling, why don’t we sit down in the bar and have a beer and share a plate of wings.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Tom said, glaring at the boy who had almost derailed his date.

  * * *

  The date didn’t go as badly as Chelsea thought it would. Of course Tom’s favorite topic of conversation was Tom and what he owned and what he was going to own. Not to mention where he’d been. He was a walking and talking advertisement for himself. It made Chelsea realize something about him. He was lonely. When someone began nearly every sentence w
ith ‘I,’ it could only mean that they were alone, a lot.

  “I would make a really good boyfriend,” Tom said. “I have the means to give my girlfriend anything she wanted.”

  “That’s sweet,” Chelsea said hesitantly. How did she tell this guy that you couldn’t buy what girls really wanted? What she really wanted. Someone they could rely on who made them the center of their world. Someone that you love so completely that they were also the center of yours.

  “But?”

  “I’m sure you could be nice, Tom.”

  “But you’re not interested in me as a boyfriend.”

  Chelsea sighed. Despite his tight, chemically enhanced expression, she could see the disappointment in his eyes. “Do you want me to lie?”

  “No. What the hell am I doing wrong? I’m a catch!”

  “Let’s start with that. Tom, you don’t tell girls every five minutes how lucky they would be to have you.”

  “Why not? Don’t they like nice things? Don’t you?”

  “Of course it’s normal for every woman to like nice things, but if all they want is the nice things, then they’re shallow. You don’t want a shallow girl, do you?”

  “Hmm.”

  “It would also be shallow to only be interested in a woman for her assets.”

  “I don’t need a woman’s money, I have my own.”

  “I’m not talking about her money.”

  “Oh. You’re talking about her body. Her charms.”

  The way he said ‘charms’ made her want to throw up her dinner, but she was on a roll so she persevered. “Yes, her body. Her body. You can’t buy a woman’s body unless she a hooker and she has it for sale.” When Tom opened his mouth to interject, she held up a hand to stop him; she wasn’t even going to start talking about hookers. “You have to make a woman like you so much that they want to share their body with you. It’s a gift.”

  “I can see your point, but the first attraction is where it starts.”

  “It is and that goes both ways.”

  “Are you saying I’m not attractive?”

  “No, of course I’m not. Tom, how old are you?”

  “I’m thirty-four.”

  “Tom, aren’t we being honest here?” This man was hard work.

  “Ok,” Tom said with irritation. “I’m forty-four.”

  “What’s wrong with being forty-four? Why are you lying about it and why are you trying to look thirty-four?”

  “Actually I was going for about twenty-eight.”

  Chelsea tried to keep the look of surprise off her face. “I can see you work hard at doing that too.”

  “I do.” Tom smiled at what he took as a compliment.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to not have to work so hard? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being your age.”

  “That’s easy for you to say because you’re young and you have your whole life in front of you.”

  “Look, I can’t tell you what to do, but if you want to take my advice, lose the tan, get your hair cut, and be more natural. I think you could be really attractive.”

  “I’ll take what you’ve said on board.”

  “Well, good.” There, she’d been as honest as she dared. She just hoped she hadn’t just thrown herself into the fire. She needed her job.

  “So you think I should get a more natural look?”

  “I do.”

  Tom was quiet after that, very quiet.

  Chelsea felt a tad guilty. All she’d done was tell the truth and that was freeing to a point, but she wasn’t a mean person and she had an inkling that she’d hurt Tom’s feelings. Maybe she should try to soften her statements. When Tom pulled up at the stairs behind the diner, she smiled at him. “Thank you for the lovely evening, Tom.”

  The slightly placated man got out and opened her door. He even walked her to the door without touching her at all, not even the small of her back.

  He was actually being a gentleman. Or he was pouting, but Chelsea was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Thanks for coming out with me,” Tom said without a lot of enthusiasm.

  Hating the awkwardness, Chelsea leaned across and pecked Tom on the cheek. Unfortunately, her date took this as an invitation and she had to jump back and out of the way when his head swung around and his open mouth made a beeline for her firmly closed one. “Tom. Don’t!” she said, giving the man a firm shove. She was literally holding him at arm’s length.

  “You kissed me.”

  That was a mistake, she realized now. “I know, but that was just a peck. Tom, we discussed this.” Her eyes were pleading, but her boss’ were hard and cold.

  “Fine. I’ll see you at work.”

  She stood frozen, wondering what the hell she had just done. Still he’d said he’d see her at work so that was something. Wasn’t it? At least he hadn’t fired her on the spot.

  * * *

  Chelsea’s reservations about her honesty with Tom during and after their date were still plaguing her the next day. There could definitely be repercussions. She opened the back door of the diner with her key. Cook had already started. Normally the smell of the coffee brewing, combined with sizzling bacon, made her mouth water, but this morning it turned her stomach and she almost had to race to the bathroom.

  “Hiya,” Soph said as Chelsea slipped her apron over her work hairstyle and tied it in the back. “You ok?”

  “Fine,” Chelsea said, swallowing hard. “Is Tom in yet?”

  “Nope. What’d ya do to him? He rang. He’s not going coming in for a week.”

  Chelsea blew out a breath, visibly relieved. The knots in her tummy all loosened and the sick feeling faded away. “The middle was kind of ok but I don’t think it ended well. We talked.”

  “Oh, shit. About?”

  “Basically it was about women and his lack of a girlfriend.”

  “Whoa. That was either very brave or very stupid, honey. I’m not sure which.” Soph snapped her gum.

  “There was more.”

  Her friend’s eyes widened. “Go ahead, spit it all out.”

  “I told him his problem with attracting women could have something to do with his package.”

  “When have you seen his package?”

  “Huh? Oh, no! I mean the hair, the tan, his clothes. The whole package, not the package.”

  “Oh, thank God. What exactly did you say to him?”

  “I suggested that he might like to lose the tan and get a haircut. That a more natural look might be more attractive.”

  “How did he take that?”

  “I’m not sure. Surprised, maybe? I hope I didn’t hurt him, I didn’t mean to, but I felt like someone owed him a bit of honesty. He thinks he’s a big man around here when in reality, everyone laughs at him behind his back.”

  “Sometimes everyone needs a dose of honesty, I guess.”

  “He seemed to understand, but then when he took me home, I went to peck him on the cheek and he tried to devour me in one gulp. I had to shove him and jump back to get out of his way.”

  Soph winced. “You are awesome! I just hope this doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass.”

  “Me too.”

  * * *

  Chelsea had a relaxed few days, if not exactly joyous. When it filtered back to her the first day Tom was gone that Josh had also left town, a feeling of melancholy settled on her. Seriously though, what did she expect? He didn’t live there. Josh was an important man who had to go back to his life. He could have said goodbye though. With a sinking heart Chelsea had no option other than to pick herself up and carry on. It was a full week before things started to look up.

  * * *

  Fresh order in hand, Chelsea walked back into the kitchen and slipped the small piece of paper onto the nail near the cook. “Big breakfast for two, please.” The busy cook didn’t even look up so she swung back through the door and stopped dead in her tracks. There perched on a stool at the counter not two feet from her was Josh.

  “Hell
o, stranger,” he said with a grin.

  Chelsea couldn’t stop her smile from spreading. The young waitress thought she’d seen the last of Josh Wheeler. “I didn’t expect to see you around here again.”

  “I had some ends to tie up.”

  A bunch of questions she wanted to ask spun around Chelsea’s mind, but she decided to play it a bit careful for now. “What can I get you?”

  “Coffee and pancakes, please, with a side of bacon.”

  “Hungry today, I see.”

  “I may not get in for lunch.”

  “I’ll be right back.” That’s what she said, but not what she thought. Why was he back, where was he going, and why wouldn’t he be here for lunch?

  Chelsea was back in a short space of time and she stood watching Josh devour the food she’d placed in front of him.

  “Did you go on the date with Tom?” Josh asked around a bite of pancake.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Did he treat you right?”

  “He did.” Well, he had, mostly. Stealing a kiss that she’d accidentally encouraged wasn’t really a crime; besides, she didn’t want to talk about Tom. It just brought him back and the worry of what would happen when he came back.

  “Well, good. I better go, but I’ll be back.”

  Chelsea smiled at Josh as he left with a wave, accepting with hope his statement that he’d be back. Excitement skittered through her, making her step light as she got on with her day.

  * * *

  The redheaded brother was getting out of a friend’s car when he got outside the diner.

  “Hi, Josh,” he said with a giant smile. “When did you get back in town?”

  “This morning. How are you, Andy?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” Andy said.

  He didn’t say anything more for a second, but he still stood there smiling. It looked to Josh like he was making up his mind whether to ask something and he could guess what it was. He was right.