Hollingwood University

Chapter 27

This dinner party had been both bearable, yet terrible. There was a part of me that enjoyed the flirty looks I received from Ethan, and then the girl talk with Erica and Sami. Then, there were the dirty looks I would receive from Harry, and Edie and Adelaide kept turning their noses up at me every time we initiated eye contact. Obviously, they still weren't impressed with the fact that I wasn't rich.

They ordered a four course meal off the a la carte menu; even when I served them the wine, I could already tell that this was going to be a long night. I realized this when I finished pouring wine into Harry's glass, and when I moved on to the next, he stuck his foot out and tried to trip me. He obviously took me for an idiot. So, being the cocky little shit that I was, I stepped over his foot idly and continued with my task.

"Hey Charlie, I still need those sirloins with mash, what's taking so long?" I asked one of the cooks.

"Well I do beg your pardon, but our private party in the back seems to have most of our attention at the moment," he sassed back, "Besides, Porter doesn't like it when high-valued customers have to wait for their service," he replied.

"Yeah? Well, I don't think most of those schmucks mind waiting; Porter has a problem with it, he can take it up with me. Sirloins and mash, on the double," I said.

"Yes, my queen," he replied.

"And quit copping the 'tude, it reflects off everybody," I told him. He rolled his eyes and went back to work.

"Seems you've just made yourself another not-so-nice ally," Sami said.

"The cocky bastard can go screw himself, see if I care," I replied, "How's it going over there?" I asked, referring the party in the back room.

"Not so bad, Edie and Adelaide are certainly pieces of work," she replied.

"Hmm, you're not a fan of the Dinty Moore club, are you?" I asked her.

"What's Dinty Moore?" she asked.

"Some football player. It's a canned soup brand, I had it a whole lot growing up," I replied.

"Was it good?" she asked.

"Like eating soggy mystery meat," I replied. She chuckled, just before a customer called for her attention. I had to hide my smile when I noticed the many ketchup stains upon the napkin that he tucked into the collar of his shirt.

"Well, I shall return," she said as she walked away. I sighed and leaned against the counter; I was bored. Sure, there were plenty of things I could've been doing at that moment: going around the room and checking in with customers, going through the drink tabs, or even sneaking little samples from the kitchen. Instead, somebody grabbed my wrist and pulled me out through the back hallway. Ethan, of course.

I kept my laughs stifled as he led me out the back door and down the small fire escape; and as soon as we came to the ground, he pushed my against the wall and crashed his lips into mine. I had to grind my back against the brick to keep my balance, then I bucked my hips against his. Ethan responded by grabbing my hands, and held them over my head. Then, he took a step in and pushed me harder against the wall, so that there was hardly any space between my back and the brick. I pushed my tongue against the inside of his mouth, loving the way he growled as the pressure increased. Soon, my breath started to get heavy, and I broke away. I leaned my head against the brick, and Ethan nuzzled my nose.

"What? No hello?" I asked him.

"I'm not quite a man of small words," he replied.

"Yeah, I noticed. You know, you can't just randomly grab me from my job and drag me out here because you wanna make out," I told him.

"I'd like to do a lot more than make out, if that's alright with you," he said.

"I'm not fucking anyone in an alley," I replied. He let go of one of my hands and let his own slide down the side of my body.

"Well, I'm not sure I could wait," he said.

"Well tough shit, Ethan. You either wait a couple hours, or you don't get any at all," I told him.

"You're saying it wrong," he said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"My name, Ms. Potty Mouth. You're saying it wrong. The way you screamed it out the other night was much better," he replied, the biggest of smirks I had ever seen on his face. I smacked his arm before he could say anything else.

"That is a huge exaggeration, you sick little bastard," I told him. Ethan just chuckled and gave me another kiss.

"Another couple hours?" he asked.

"I promise," I replied. We kissed once more, before decided to go back inside. After all, I had a shift to finish, and he had a night with a couple of rich snobs to take care of.