by Mel Ryle
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Copyright © 2015 by MelRyle
All Rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of required fees you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known, hereinafter invented, without express written permission of BLVNP Inc. For more information contact BLVNP Inc. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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This book is a work of FICTION. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Enjoy.
Praise for Meeting Mr. Mogul
This book is fantastic from beginning to end! Definitely a must read! I love all the characters - they have such interesting lives! Now I need to read the sequel pronto!
-Samantha Howell
I found this book after reading The CEO Buys In by Nancy Herkness and was surprised with what I found. This author is going places, I just know it!
-Maria Cowell
A great mix of comedy and the well-loved CEO romance that every girl craves. Five stars!
-Book Lovin Babe Reviews
The description promised a mix of the bestsellers The CEO Buys In and Not You It's Me. Was not disappointed!
- Julia Hall
Spectacular, heartwarming and a great read after a long day. Meeting Mr. Mogul is a hilarious love-hate story of a strong independent woman and the arrogant billionaire that hook women into wanting more. Amazing job from Mel Ryle!
-Olivia James
Meeting
Mr. Mogul
Mel Ryle
ISBN: 9781680304169
©MelRyle2015
To all the women who made me realize that gender isn’t a hindrance to be someone great and to achieve great things in life.
In loving memory of my grandfather,
Arquilles Abucay Sr.
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One
“Good evening, sir. Are you ready to order?” I asked with a forced smile on my face while pulling out the white pad paper. I was poised and ready to take his order. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same for the customer. He browsed through the menu once, twice, thrice, and so on, clearly taking his sweet time. Around the fourth time he re-checked the menu, he was starting to get on my nerves. I mean, come on! It’s not like the words would become different every time he flipped a page. I just didn’t understand what was taking him so long to decide. He finally made his choice almost four minutes since he arrived, which was time I could have used more productively.
“I would like your filet mignon with lemon sauce and some white wine to go along with it. That would be all,” the man in a gray suit briefly stated as he closed the menu he held. He then looked away after he pulled out his phone, which vibrated his inside blazer pocket.
“It will be served in ten to fifteen minutes, sir,” I replied with a smile after jotting down his order.
“Oh, hello! I thought you were in Paris,” the man said as he waved me off to answer his phone.
I excused myself with a slight bow before I walked towards the computer on the far right side of the room to punch in his order. I scowled in annoyance at the man’s rudeness, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. Since I worked as a waitress for a three-star restaurant, this kind of treatment was typical. Whenever someone started to shout and scream, my night would go downhill from there.
“Why are you so serious?” Terry asked as I reached the small stall, where a touchscreen computer was set up for us to place the order, which is synced to an identical computer in the kitchen.
“First douchebag of the night,” I stated, sighing in defeat.
“Ah… so the contest for the number one douchebag is on,” Terry stated with a smirk while his fingers continued to tap on the computer screen.
“Anyone in your table up for the running?” I asked seriously as I quickly glanced at his designated tables.
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t come across one yet. But I’ll get back to you on that,” he answered and turned to me with a wink.
“Good for you. I hope he would be the only one for the night. I’m pretty worn out,” I said with resigned disinterest.
“I’m all done,” Terry announced and turned towards me. “Do you want me to punch that in?” he offered with a smile.
“Sure. Thanks,” I replied, giving him the sheet with the orders. “While you’re at it, I’ll wait on some of your tables. You sure there are no assholes?” I asked as I slowly stepped away from him.
“None. Nada,” he smirked. “Oh, there are orders on the counter. Check if any of them are for my section,” he continued as he glanced behind me.
“Right. Roger that.” I headed towards the counter where loads of dishes were put on trays.
I checked if any of the orders were from my section or from Terry’s before I delivered them to their corresponding tables. When I was finished, I went to wait on the new customers seated in my section. As I headed back to the computer to punch in another order, I bumped into Terry again.
“Andy, table fifteen’s order is up,” Terry whispered while I punched in an order.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I replied with a soft smile.
I got the tray from the counter and carried it to its designated table. Table fifteen. The douchebag. I smiled as I placed his order in front of him, regretting that I did not spit on it when he rudely waved me away again. I saw Terry giving me a sympathetic smile as I walked away.
To be honest, this job sucks. But I’m only doing it for two reasons:
1.) I have bills to pay, which are sent to me almost nonstop.
2.) This was the only job that accepted me without any fuss.
It’s been a month since I got here, and I’ve applied for many jobs to get out of this hellhole. However, it’s not much of a hellish experience with Terry here.
“If you want, I could totally ask some guys to follow him outside and kick the living shit out of him,” Terry offered as I went back to the counter to place in other orders.
“Thanks for the offer, Terry. It sounds
appealing, but I’ll pass. He’s not that bad,” I replied with a soft chuckle as I got the tray filled with plates – all orders from my section.
“Okay. But if you change your mind…” he offered, trailing off.
“You’ll be the first to know,” I called out in reply as I walked towards my section, balancing the tray in my hand.
After serving the customer’s meal, I saw Reyna, the maître d’, walk inside the restaurant with a beaming smile. She gestured a man to sit in the empty booth with a reserved sign, which was under my section.
I walked up to take his order after Reyna returned to her station by the front door. She was giving him sly glances on the way back, which made me raise my eyebrow in question. I was a few meters away from said customer when I almost stopped dead on my tracks.
I don’t want to exaggerate, but the man managed to capture every woman’s gaze in the vicinity. The women eyed him with this look that was almost primal in nature. The man was capital H O T. His blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, and well-built arms, which slightly bulged in his slick black suit, made almost everyone stare at him and sigh.
But I’m not like everyone else. I wasn’t easily swayed by looks. This kind of man is what you typically call a playboy, with looks, and possibly a huge bank account, to boot. With my wit and confidence intact, I walked up to him with a fake smile and a welcoming vibe.
“Good evening, sir. Are you ready to order?” I asked as I took out the white pad paper from my apron.
While I was waiting for him to dictate his order, I noticed him make a short pause. I glanced at him out of curiosity since this rarely happens. The only times customers pause is when they aren’t ready to order (made obvious when they say “Uhmm” while reading the menu), or when they are listening to someone on the phone, both of which the man wasn’t doing. So you’d understand my surprise when he paused.
“Are you ready to order, sir?” I asked again while he kept on staring at me.
He finally snapped out of it and glanced down at the menu in front of him. “I’d like tonight’s special and my usual wine,” he replied in a deep, raspy voice with a slight British accent.
“And, what would your usual wine be, sir?” I asked nicely as I wrote his order down.
The man paused again, which made me look back at him in confusion. He looked shocked as he stared at me, his clear blue eyes wide. “You don’t know who I am?” he asked like it was an absurd thing that I didn’t recognize him.
I gave him a small, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m new here, so I’m not yet familiar with the regulars,” I replied softly so as not to offend him. I didn’t want to cause a scene here on my first month. I’ve been tolerable with people like him this long, I’m not giving up now.
“Figures,” he mumbled angrily as he shook his head. “You can ask your manager what my usual is. That would be all,” he commanded, signaling the end of our conversation.
I was taken aback by his words. I wanted to slap him right then and there, but I held it in. I bowed as I closed my mouth shut and turned to walk away without saying a word. That man is definitely the number one douchebag and asshole of the night. I stomped towards where the manager stood as he scanned the whole restaurant. Once he saw me looking pissed and fired up, he raised his eyebrows in question.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked when I finally reached him.
“Table nine’s usual order, sir,” I stated with clenched teeth.
He blinked in alarm. Surprised by my anger, he looked behind me to see which table I was referring to. Suddenly, he gasped and looked back at me in shock.
“Did you say anything stupid to him?” he asked urgently as he grabbed my shoulder.
“No,” I replied, confused by his sudden fierceness.
One of the things I’ve observed about the manager is that he is a calm man. Even when a customer was complaining or shouting in the middle of the room, the man can handle any situation with a smile. So I was surprised to see him disgruntled.
“Why didn’t you tell me that he’s here? God, that woman! I’ll have to reprimand Reyna,” he mumbled in annoyance as he walked away from me, ignoring my presence.
“Uhmm, sir? What’s his usual?” I asked softly as I followed him.
“You attend to your other tables. I’ll take care of table nine,” he stated strictly, facing me a little before he walked towards the direction of the kitchen.
I’m not really sure what just happened, so I just shut my mouth and nodded in reply. I also followed the manager’s orders of waiting on my other tables except table nine. When the manager got back and walked out of the kitchen, he had a tray of food and a bucket of wine in hand. I turned to look at the man again, wondering who he was. Why is he getting special treatment? And why did he get his order so quickly? The food service here usually isn’t that fast. Unless he called in early. Maybe the man had booked in advance considering his table was reserved. That was the only reasonable answer I could think of.
After solving that mystery on my own, I went back to work without having those thoughts lingering in my head. Before I resumed my job, however, I got one last look at the man when he finished his meal. I noticed, yet again, that the manager was the only person attending to him. I also noticed that he didn’t pay any bill, which was odd. But since it was the manager who served him, that would be his problem not mine.
When the customer got up from his table, I got a full view of him. He was tall, for one thing. And I was right about his muscular build. He stood straight, indicating an aura of confidence. I wanted to hurl and crush that confidence, though. One thing I knew about men like him is they wear their arrogance like armor and think that people who aren’t in the same social class are beneath them.
As the man got out of the restaurant, the thick air of unease around me suddenly lifted. I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn’t help wishing that the man never came back. But if he does, I’m glad it’s the manager’s sole responsibility to serve him.
After the restaurant closed, the staff lingered as the manager called our attention for a meeting. My guess was it had something to do with tonight’s encounter with Mr. Asshole. And my suspicion was confirmed when Reyna was called. I felt bad that the whole staff was present while the manager scolded her. It was like watching a strict professor scolding a student about a failed exam. Not a good scene to watch.
“Everyone can go,” the manager said after his lecture. “Andy, can I talk to you for a minute?” he added as he looked at me, gesturing me with his finger to come forward.
Some of the staff lingered for a while, but walked away when the manager and I stood there, watching them all walk out of the room. I caught Terry’s eye and gave him a small smile. In reply, he smiled back and mouthed something that seemed like ‘Your key’.
“I’m so sorry about my outburst, Andy. I could see that you were offended by it,” the manager said after the room was emptied.
I simply looked at him, stunned. And here I thought he would be scolding me. “No. It’s okay. I’m new here, so I’m not familiar with the regulars yet,” I replied with the same excuse I gave to Mr. Overconfident.
“Oh! You don’t know who he is?” he asked, looking surprised.
I gave him a shy smile. “In truth, I don’t. Should I know who he is?” I asked back and bit my lips afterwards, cringing at his reaction.
He chuckled and patted my shoulders. “That man was our boss. I thought everyone knew who he was. You lived further away from here than I thought,” he stated as he walked away from me towards his office.
I was slightly confused about what he had said. Before I could ask, he was already out of hearing range. So, I went back to the locker room without any answer. When I finished changing into normal clothes, which consisted of my white shirt, regular jeans, and black sneakers, I opened the back door and was startled at the sight of a man’s back. I gaped at the figure for a second as my mind tried to register who it was.
“He
y! Oh, sorry for startling you. What did the manager want from you?” Terry asked as he turned around.
I let out a sigh of relief and gave him a grim smile. “Do you know that man our manager served this evening?”
“Which one?” he asked in confusion.
“You know, the tall, blond, and muscular one in a black suit, looking all sexy and arrogant,” I explained further, glumly describing the man to refresh his memory.
He smirked at me, his eye twinkling in amusement. “I know who you are talking about. I was just curious about your thoughts on the boss,” Terry said after I paused to look at him.
I punched him lightly in the shoulder, feeling annoyed at his trickery. “God. You’re lame sometimes,” I remarked and shook my head.
When I moved here in the city, Terry was the only person who helped me out. For a stranger, who is not much of a stranger by now, he had grown on me. I knew him through a friend of my father, Billy (who is a very talkative, and mostly drunk, person). If I needed help or a place to stay, he told me to contact Terry. With a non-existent bank account and no savings whatsoever, I’m practically broke, which makes finding an apartment close to impossible. So, I took Billy’s advice, called a stranger for help, and lived with Terry ever since.
So here I am now, riding a motorcycle back to his flat. Sure, his place wasn’t what I’d classify as five stars (maybe two stars, at best), but it was all I’ve got. I made a place for myself in his living room couch, so I cooked for him in exchange. But I drew the line at doing his laundry when we made this unspoken contract. To be honest, Terry is a nice roommate and a true gentleman. I think that’s great considering I don’t need another man trouble, which was my first fear when I agreed to do this. I already have enough problems as it is.
