Mend My Heart

Chapter 1

I always thought that being a waitress was cool during my teenage years. Now that I’m actually one, I wish I could go back in time and slap the crap out of my younger self and force my dumb ass to stay in college; even if it meant I’d be miserable as hell.

Now that I look back on it, dropping out of university has to be the dumbest decision I have ever made, and I once dyed my hair neon orange due to a bet I’d lost in sophomore year of high school. Maybe I should have just become a doctor or lawyer like my parents wanted then maybe I wouldn’t be struggling to make ends meet with this dead ass job I have.

About three years ago, I got kicked out of my parents’ mansion, because let’s face it that house is massive, and I’ve been on a roller coaster of problems ever since. Now, my GPA wasn’t too bad but I never realised that being a college drop out would look bad on my resume. Hell, I couldn’t even land a job as some hot billionaire’s assistant much to my never-ending chagrin. Thanks, Wattpad for making believe in such utter nonsense!

The worst part about waitressing is that I was doing it at some fancy schamncy restaurant which is frequented by the rich, powerful and famous. And you’d think that they’d at least have the decency to leave decent tips, as if! Most of the dishes here at Ooh La Food cost more than my monthly salary. For an establishment with such a horrible name, those rich and arrogant fools really did love coming here. I think it has a lot to do with the amazing chefs in the back, or the fact that the waiters and waitresses alike are not bad looking; I really can’t tell at this point.

Balancing two trays of gourmet food in my hands, I used my backside to push out of the kitchen and out into the beginning moments of today’s lunch rush. And it was so freaking packed today, I could barely make out one table from the other. On my way out, one of the waiter’s called Troy was by a table serving two gorgeous women, no doubt models and by the looks of it, they were eating up whatever flirty garbage he was feeding them. When I passed by that table, he shot me a subtle wink and turned his attention to the two desperate ladies. I really don’t blame them; Troy is rather captivating with his light brown skin, green eyes and his tall and muscular physique. At some point I’d fawned over his killer looks for almost an hour…until I found out he was just another pretty faced Casanova.

Sighing audibly, I made it to table 13 where an aristocratic and snobbish elderly couple were waiting impatiently for their grub. Setting down their $300 dollar dishes down, I sent them a forced smile. “Enjoy your meal and do not hesitate to stop one of the servers should you need anything else,” I droned monotonously at them, and the woman with salt and pepper hair waved me off rudely.

“That will be all,” she sniffed haughtily and began to dig in. I mentally strangled her pruned neck and started making my way back to the kitchen when a couple walked in. Well, they weren’t just any couple… they were the couple. The one and only couple that had become notoriously popular for being in this joint and causing a commotion every other week or month.

The woman was Yolanda Heinz; a 5-foot whatever model with flawless caramel skin, grey piercing orbs, long wavy mocha locks, high cheek bones, a royal nose, full lips and legs that go on forever. Today, her hair was up in a high pony tail and her body was wrapped in a cobalt midi off the shoulder dress paired with black strappy heels. One arm had a Hermes bag dangling from it and the other was secured possessively around her on again off again boyfriend; the formidable Theodore Duke.

In all my years of existence, I have never set my eyes on whatever species Theodore Duke was. I mean, the guy looked like he walked out of a freaking painting.  He stood tall, probably at six foot three, with jet black hair perfectly patterning his head that sat on broad shoulders, well maintained eye brows, a pair of dark grey orbs (just like his girlfriend), and a jaw so sharp it would put most machetes to shame. His frame was built and strong; no doubt he was into some sport or something. Overall, he was masculinity personified. And that tailored three piece suit he was rocking definitely did his physique too much justice.