Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM

Thirty-one

The diner bustles with activities as I make my way into the farthest corner away from the door. I sight Clarissa behind the counter, hair pulled tight into a sleek bun with her lips moving rapidly as she attends to a customer. The smell of pastries, plus the aroma of freshly made coffee and the noise of the diners have my nostrils flaring in delight. I tip my hat and inhale the air of deliciousness, a feeling of nostalgia creeping up on me.

Settling into the only unoccupied booth, I cast one look out the window where people mill around in groups of twos and threes. Our school is a few minutes walk from here. My eyes narrow in on my car; my baby looking out of place in that spot between smaller cars. It still feels odd, almost surreal to know I have one. My fingers splay on the window, something warm stirs in my chest, I can't wait for our second ride as a couple.

A kid falls off his bicycle, his mum squats to help him up and he swats her hand. The pity rising to the surface dies at his action, a scowl forms on my face and the corners of my lips twitch. Her morose expression shows she is used to him rejecting her help and the subtle swiping of a finger across her cheek has my heart clenching. I saw the traitorous tear she was quick to wipe off, the smile she plasters on her lips as her son starts riding is easily identifiable as fake. My chest tightens, it bothers me and I don't know why.

I don't want a world where any of my kids refuse my help. Mothers know best, they are kids greatest allies, fathers too. Pa took me to my first dance, my driving classes started with him. His quiet presence, unsolicited advise with Ma's boisterous attitude are the perfect combination to make a marriage work. Or not. I chuckle. Brandon and I are far different from them but we make it work in our weird, crazy way. I love that man.

The woman's head raises, her eyes jerk in my direction, I avert my gaze and rest my hands on my legs, feeling guilty for staring too long. Damn this two-way glasses. I rub my belly through my blouse, a sigh escapes me. Brandon might have been on the right track in trying to discourage me from having kids, I don't want a baby until I have my degree but he went about it the wrong way. Children are gifts from God; little blessings.

My attention returns to the counter, where Clarissa hands a takeout to a customer with a smile. A smile that will vanish once she sees me. On cue, her head turns briefly in my direction and our gazes clash. I pull the hat over my eyes but she must have recognised me because her gaze returns slowly to my face, threatening to bore a hole into me.

Her frown confirms my suspicion, the smile I throw her way freezes under her withering gaze. I swallow. Okay. She is royally pissed. It will take more than a car ride to earn her forgiveness. But she should try and understand, I had my reasons.

"Hi." I jump in my seat and let out a small yelp at the sound of the voice. Faint laughter reaches my ear, my eyes fleet to Clarissa staring straight ahead, the cackle sounded like her. She is capable of laughing at my expense. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

My lips curl into a smile as my head turns to the owner of the voice, I nod. "It's alright."

The teen waitress smile matches mine, she pulls out the menu from the pocket of her pink apron and I stifle a chuckle. She must be new. All the items on that menu sit rent-free in my head. Having a bestie who works at a diner with a loveable boss has its perks.

"Can I order later?" My head tilts to one side to get a better view of the name on her tag. "Tabitha." She looks unsure but agrees to my request. I stop her from leaving to roll a twenty-pound bill between my fingers, her eyes widen and the business side of me takes over. "Are you in the mood to make twenty pounds?" Her mouth opens and closes, I take that as my cue to continue, "If you can get Clarissa to my table, it's all yours."

"No way."

"Yes way."

Sifting through my purse, I bring out a ten-pound note, use my phone to cover the face of the queen. Her brows crease with her eyes trained on the money. I can imagine the wheel rotating in her head, it is not a huge sum to someone like Brandon and maybe me by the virtue of my black card and marriage to him. But it looks like it might be to her.