After Solitude

Chapter 2.

Zoey's POV

I walk into work with my head held high, at least I hope the fake confidence is working.

"Hey," Doug approaches me from the bar, "thanks for taking the shift. We have three special guests coming tonight and they are going to be sitting at one of your tables. Their used to Tammy but she got sick last night so please, do you absolute best." He dumps.

Special guests? I've never handled special guests before! No, no you can't do this to me.

"And don't look at them with that face, doe eyes aren't professional." Doug retreats back to the bar, seeing a customer come up to it.

Crap, crap, crap. I internally freak out. Okay, I could just ask if they could sit at someone else's table, someone more reliable.

An hour passes with no mistakes, making me think it's time I ask my manager to change the seating arrangements for the special guests.

"Absolutely not. They sit at the same table every time they come. Just do your job and do it well." He says with frustration in his voice.

I nod and turn away, knowing he's upset with my foreboding attitude.

After clearing a table, I carry the heavy tray back into the kitchen and set the dishes into the sink.

"Zoey, special guests are here." One of my fellow waiters inform me.

I can do this. They aren't special, they're just like everyone else. Every other rich person at least.

Opening the double doors, I make my way to my tables and scan to see where they have sat.

My eyes catch to three pairs of eyes already staring back at me.

Holy guacamole! I think to myself as I freeze, staring at the three most sexiest men I've ever seen.

I try to move my feet but they wont budge, as if I'm glued to the floor.

One of them with shiny black hair smirks at me, probably knowing I'm their waitress.

If I don't look at them, I wont feel the dominance radiating off of them.

I shift my gaze to the ground and fumble with my notepad so it's ready when I get there. After telling myself a few encouraging words, I walk towards the table with my notepad in hand and eyes on the floor.

The closer I get, the more I feel an intense pull towards them. Like I'm being lured. Then my skin gets goosebumps as I stop at the front of the table.

They scream power.

My soul feels a burning desire to look at them again, but I know that if I do, I'll utterly embarrass myself.

"Hi, my name is Zoey and I'll be your waitress this evening. May I get you all started on some drinks?" I say the opening line that we all are required to say.

"Where is our usual waitress?" A deep voice asks. A voice I want to hear more of already.

"Oh she's uh- she's sick, I think. I'm sorry I-I can get someone else if you'd prefer." I say as I look up momentarily.

Dang, how're they so hot?

"No, we prefer you, Zoey." Another alluring voice says. My name rolls off that tongue seductively, perfectly.