Anything He Wishes
Alana Marlowe
Copyright ©2012
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form by any means, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This book is fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations, brands, media, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning! This book is intended for adult audiences only and may contain explicit themes or erotic sexual content.
Please visit www.alanamarlowe.com for more Hot Romance Stories.
1
"It's your turn." Marie's smirk made me recoil. I rolled my eyes and turned back towards the dining room. It was my turn to wait on Mrs. Fitch. We all called her Mrs. Witch because that's what she was. No matter how many times you repeated the order back to her and confirmed it, she always complained it was wrong. ALWAYS. It didn't matter who waited on her. I shifted my weight as I sharply pulled down my vest and walked tall over to the table, trying my best to put on a smile.
"Good Afternoon, Mrs. Fitch. So nice to see you today!"
I tried to sound energetic.
"I have a few others joining me shortly. Do get me a brandy." With a wave of her hand she shoo'd me away to fetch he drink.
Scurrying off to the bar, I made sure to remember the water she always requested later. It was in her blood to make us run around like crazy and she looked like she enjoyed it. She never ordered it at first but she always wanted it so I figured I could save myself a trip.
By the time I returned to the table, her other guests had arrived, most of which I had not seen in the few months I had been there. They all looked like business men and women, in a sea of blue and grey suits and white dress shirts. It was if they had no faces really. They all seemed to blend together, except for Mrs. Fitch who wore a pastel green dress. She loved her pastels.
"Good Afternoon. My name is Jess. Please allow me to get you a beverage."
A slurry of drink orders were tossed towards me as I hurriedly wrote them down, making sure to confirm them as they came.
"Oh, where is Nathan? That boy is always late!" Mrs. Fitch barked as I turned on my heel and headed once again to the bar.
Staring glassy eyed at the side door while waiting on my drinks I could see the little peek of beach. The sun glittered across the water and I found myself daydreaming about lying out on the beach with some fruity drink with an umbrella and a pineapple in it, reading and enjoying life instead of being stuck inside waiting on the ungrateful. My love/hate relationship with the rich made it easy to wish I was one of them, but at the same time loathe how most of them treated others.
"Jess...you're ready to go." Said the voice pulling me back into reality. Jake, the bartender and owners son was a cute young thing. To young for me, but that didn't stop me from filling up a couple of nights fantasizing about having him in my bed. He had one of those high and tight asses that made you want to attempt to bounce a quarter off of it. I never saw him date even though there were plenty of women that wanted to date him.
Everyone that worked with him knew he was gay, not that I cared. He knew how to work a crowd and make the best drinks and that is all that mattered to me. Most of the older women flirted with him and he played along, letting them think he had a thing for them. They threw money at him and he let them. He knew he had a good thing going and he continued to play the game.
A strong sexy voice startled me from behind. "Excuse me, I am here to meet with Mrs. Fitch. Could you point me her direction?"
Quickly spinning, I was caught speechless at the masculine creature that stood before me. Everything in the room around me went dark and all the light tunneled in on his face. The dryness in my mouth prevented me from speaking as I found my brain searching for words.
"Uh, yeah. I am taking these to her table now if you want to follow me."
I had never had butterflies in my stomach just from the vision of a man before. It was like I was under some kind of spell. Jess, pull yourself together!
He leaned into my personal space and whispered in my ear. "I would love to, Jessica."
"How did you know my name?"
His audible laugh tickled my insides as he pointed to my name tag. The rush of embarrassed heat filled my face as I turned to grab the tray of drinks before I made a fool of myself any longer.
This was the man of my dreams. No...really. I dreamt about him. I had him all sketched out in my head when I was creating my dream board. Tall, dark and handsome. Yeah, I know it is cliché, but that is what I wanted.
After watching several videos and reading about the Law of Attraction, I jumped on board like a lot of others did and tried to will and wish myself with the perfect job, the perfect man, the perfect everything. Maybe I was doing it wrong, but nothing happened for me.
In the process, I started imagining the perfect man. Everything from the looks to the personality was laid out so that I would know for sure when he showed up. Like that really mattered. Thick black hair, crystal blue eyes, dimples and a body that looked so yummy in a suit...or in anything...or nothing.
I put all that away a few years back after realizing that reality doesn't always work the way you think. Like getting this job. I never in a million years would have thought I would have been waiting tables for the rich at some swanky yacht club. I had a high paying career working for a banker. Life was going well, until the markets crashed and the bank was swallowed up by an even bigger bank.
There went the cushy job and the paycheck that went with it. I beat the pavement trying to find something...anything that would even remotely pay what I was making. It just wasn't happening and I didn't want to resort to something less dignified to earn a living.
One day I was so desperate I called that old boss and asked him if he knew of anyone that was hiring. He told me the only thing he knew of was this place and he would put in a good word for me with the owner. It was a slap in the face, but times were tough, so I took it.
So here I am looking like a butler in my white button up top with the black bow tie and vest. Great! In walks the man of my dreams and I can't even make a good impression.
Jet black hair cut short on the sides and long on the top. Chiseled face and a sexy 'fuck-me-baby' smile. Parts of me were getting warm and tingly. How can just looking at a man do this to me?
I grabbed my tray and headed towards the dining room, the elegant stranger in tow. As we got to the table I began to serve the drinks when I could see him lean over and give Mrs. Fitch a kiss on the cheek before heading around to his seat on the opposite side of the table. How did he know this woman? And why had I not seen him before?
Heading around to his side, I lean down and quietly ask if he wants something to drink. The scent of his cologne hits me and I am briefly transported to some deserted island with him half naked laying on top of me in the sand, the scent of wood and wild orchids in the salted air and everything else a blur as I try to stay focused.
"Cognac." He breathes as he looks directly into my eyes and smiles. The blueness of his eyes stuns me as try to edge out a smile and not look as though I am a deer in the headlights. His smile is warm and melting and I have a strong desire to taste his lips. There is something vaguely familiar about him, but I cannot place it. I nod and head back to the bar.
"Jake!" I whisper, "Who is that man that just sat at the table with Mrs. Fitch?"
"You mean the hot one in the blue Armani? That is Nathan Ross. THE Nath
an Ross. Of Ross Industries & Mining, the biggest diamond mines in the states." Jake gushed.
When I was working at the bank, I had a lot of nice clothes and could hang with the rich and be taken seriously. Not so much now.
Taking care of my dying mother used all of my savings and I sold all of my expensive clothes just to keep going. Trying to look like I fit in wasn't going to happen with this crowd. And you have to BE one just to be around them or else you are chopped liver.
"I need a Cognac for Mr. Ross."
Jake poured the drink as I tried to put my happy face back on. It was hard seeing the man of your dreams sitting at your own table and knowing that you will never be able to know what he is really like and if he meets up to your expectations. At least I knew now that he actually existed.
I look over into the mirror behind the bar to see what I look like. Crap. My red tresses are all over the place and falling out of the clip. My mascara is smudged under my eyes. Quickly, I check my teeth and lipstick as I try to make myself look as presentable as possible. Realizing there is only so much I can do, I grab the tray and head back over to the table.
My stomach is in knots as I casually act like nothing is out of the ordinary. Everyone is carrying on and laughing at something Mrs. Fitch has said as I wait patiently for a break in the conversation.
As I sat the glass down I admired the thickness of his jet black hair. It was slightly wavy and looked like it was gelled in place. Longer on the top and shorter on the sides and back. The desire to run my fingers through it was intensely overwhelming.
"Jessica!" the screeching sound of Mrs. Fitch's voice made me jump.
"Yes, Mrs. Fitch?"
"I am ready to order now!"
I took a deep breath as I concentrated on getting everyone's order correct and even read it back to them to be clear. Especially Mrs. Fitch's. If I could make it through just this once without having her complain about something, it would be a great day.
2
In between serving the salad and the main course, I tried to keep myself from staring at him. It was almost like he was a magnet and I was being pulled into him. Never in my life have I found it so hard to resist staring at a man before.
Most of the meal went without incident and I was grateful that through the whole meal, Mrs. Fitch didn't complain about anything. Perhaps it was because Mr. Ross was there, or perhaps it was something else, but I didn't care. I would love to be the first server in the place to actually make it through an entire meal with her and no complaints. Now THAT would be a first!
But as life would have it, that didn't happen.
As I was pulling the plate away from Mrs. Fitch, she grabbed my arm pulling me towards her.
"Why can't you ever seem to get my order right!?" Her brow was furrowed and the scowl made me imagine a pie being pushed in her face.
I looked down at the plate. It was empty. If it wasn't right, how come she ate it? At this point in time, my focus was only on her and her antics. I wasn't about to apologize because I knew that it was right. "What was wrong with it?"
She glared at me as if I was supposed to know what was wrong. Feeling myself go rigid I waited for her response.
"Well...I ordered the tuna salad and this was chicken salad!" She boasted, as if she had won something that wasn't up to win.
I pulled out my order book and looked at what I wrote. Then I broke the cardinal rule of service. I corrected her. And I did it right in front of all her friends.
"No Ma'am. I asked three times to make sure I had it right. I wrote it right here, see?" As I pushed my order book in her face for her to see what I wrote. "See, right here, it says chicken."
I knew I was moments away from being fired, but I had enough of this woman's game and I didn't care at the moment. I was growing tired of hearing her bitching about everyone and everything as if it was her job to make everyone miserable. It was frustrating to know that no matter what any of us ever did, there would always be something wrong.
The look on her face was priceless. I suddenly realized what I had done and now had to figure out how to fix it. I briefly glanced up at the man with the crystal blue eyes. He was leaning back in his chair, his arms folded in front of him with one eyebrow raised and a small smirk on his face. His dimples were showing slightly and my heart fluttered as our eyes locked momentarily.
I broke the stare and refocused.
"Mrs. Fitch, I apologize if you were unhappy with your CHICKEN salad. May I get you a piece of cheesecake and a glass of wine, on the house?"
Her mouth skewed as she rolled her eyes. "Oh, all right! Maybe you can get THAT right!" She screeched.
I shook inside, trying to hold my tongue. I think the other guests sensed it because everyone else was now silent waiting and watching my reaction. It took every bit of strength I had not to just belt the woman. But I couldn't afford to go to jail. Right now I just needed to get her out of here.
I looked up at the rest of the guests and plastered on a fake smile.
"Would anyone else like some dessert?" I asked curtly.
It was almost in unison that everyone else at the table shook their heads no, including Mr. Ross who was still staring at me and giving me a soft careful smile. What was he thinking?
I turned on my heel and made my way back to the kitchen grumbling under my breath. I found the fattest piece of cheesecake I could and drizzled it with our famous raspberry sauce, then laid the perfect piece of mint on the plate. On my way back to the table, I grabbed a glass of Ice Wine. The light pink wine complimented the cheesecake the they looked good together as well. No one could complain about our wine and cheesecake combination. Not even the old witch
As I was arriving at the table, I overheard Mrs. Fitch still complaining. "I don't know why I still come here. The service is horrible and they never seem to get my order right."
My blood boiled as I slowed my gait. Carefully, I set the cheesecake on the table in front of Mrs. Fitch.
Then, as if something or someone possessed my body and mind, I did the unthinkable.
Slow motion took over as I reached for the glass of wine, but instead of setting it on the table, I allowed my fingers to gently push the glass off of my tray and tumble over the side, spilling that beautiful pink wine all into her lap as the glass landed with a "thwink" on her thighs.
Everyone in the club froze as I heard the horrible sound of silence fill the room. Then, the screeching began. Old Mrs. Fitch stood up and began cursing in ways even I had never heard. She could have put a sailor to shame. I quickly grabbed the glass and placed my tray on the table, trying as best I could to wipe up the wine before it had soaked through. Too late. That pastel green dress may not survive. And I am sure it was expensive. Probably not to her, but it would have cost me a months salary and tips.
"Get away from me you wretched child!" she screamed, pushing my hands away.
I couldn't decide if I wanted to laugh or cry. I briefly felt liberated but that passed because I knew I would have to be hunting for a job in the morning. What the hell was I thinking? Why did I let her get to me like that?
I looked up in time to see my manager making a bee line over to the table, his brow furrowed deeply looking straight at me. Shit. I knew I was fired. Even though she was a witch, she was their best customer and always kept her rich girlfriends coming back and spending money there.
"Harris! I want this girl fired!" she yelled at my manager.
"Yes Ma'am. I will take care of this myself."
Yep. No matter what I did now, I had lost the only job that I had been able to get in the last 6 months. I could feel the tears begin to well and choked them down.
"I am truly sorry, Mrs. Fitch." My apology was genuine even though it stung coming out. I was more sorry because I had put my own ass in the sling.
I looked up at Mr. Ross. He had one arm folded across and the other supporting his chin, his fingers slightly covering his mouth. I could see the faint smile peeking from behind his fingers as he
sat and watched the spectacle. My stomach quivered as he gazed into my eyes giving me a disappointed shake of his head from side to side.
My manager grabbed my arm to get my attention, looked at me and said one word. "Office."
3
I felt defeated. I didn't even bother to pick up the tray as I walked with my head down through the dining room, all eyes on me.
I could see the flurry of the rest of the servers all attending to the table, cleaning it up, offering ways to help. They knew it wasn't my fault but they couldn't help me now. No one could.
I closed the office door behind me and plopped into the big brown leather chair in the corner. The big rolled arms with studded pins almost made it feel cocoon like as it hugged me gently. I laid my head back and allowed myself a few tears before reaching over and grabbing a tissue to clean myself up before I got fired. Why am I even still here? I should just grab my things and get the hell out of here..
As I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, I sat upright in the chair. Harris stood in the doorway momentarily before closing the door behind him and sighed, exasperated.
"What happened?" he said calmly squatting down in front of me.
"I was reaching to place the glass next to her plate, and I lost control and it fell. I really am sorry!" I knew I was lying, but he didn't. Maybe there was some way now I could save myself.
I gulped back the tears now. I hated being this emotionally vulnerable. But I needed this job, even if I did hate it most of the time. I still made great money off these rich folks.
"Unfortunately my hands are tied. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't have to do this. But this woman's money and all the people who know her is what keeps this place alive. I'm sorry Jess..."
We were interrupted by a knock on the door. I saw Harris roll his eyes as he got up to open it only a crack so he could see who was there. I heard a male voice on the other said say, "May I speak with you?" It sounded vaguely familiar but I couldn't place it.
Anything He Wishes (Billionaire BDSM Erotic Romance) Page 1
