Hired To Love

Chapter One

Henley

            "Hattie, table four has been waiting over two minutes for someone to come and take their drink order," Collin, the manager on shift, said as he walked by me, heading toward the hostess stand.

I blinked at him, trying to ignore the fact he got my name wrong for the thousandth time while wondering if he noticed my arms filled with plates of food for a different table. When he glanced over his shoulder and frowned at me, I gave him the fakest smile I could produce. "I'll be right over."

"Good."

Rolling my eyes, I hurried back to table number seven. I hated table number seven. I didn't know if I was just my luck, or maybe the table was cursed, but whoever sat there ended up always being the rudest and crudest and most condescending people on the Earth. This time around it was a bunch of businessmen in sleek suits that tried to leer down my shirt every time I leaned over to clear a plate or glass.

"Chicken Cordon Bleu," I announced as I set down one of the plates in front of a large man wearing a star-spangled tie.

"Nice," he commented and I wasn't sure if he was talking about the chicken breast or my breast.

Still, I held my tongue. If I remained nice enough, these guys would definitely give me a generous tip.

"Do you need anything else before I go?" I asked after I'd handed out all the dishes. Please say no, I begged internally.

"Another Blue Moon please," Star-Spangled Moron requested.

I flashed him a smile. "Right away."

As I turned around, I caught sight of Collin staring at me and pointing to table four frantically. "Am I the only one on shift?" I muttered to myself as I turned toward the table. Noticing there were only two people sitting at it, I relaxed a little bit. At least it would be an easy one.

"Hi, my name is Henley, I'll be serving you tonight," I greeted them, offering the two a wide smile.

The two young men both turned toward me at the same time and I immediately felt my confidence drop as I recognized the pair. They came in at least once a week and they were both drop-dead gorgeous. At this point, I had thought I was used to handsome men and beautiful women coming to this restaurant, but the feeling of inferiority never went away. And these two were top tier. Tonight they were both wearing button-ups, rolled at the sleeves to reveal their veiny forearms. One of them wore a black shirt with a white tie, while the other had a white shirt with a black tie. I didn't know if it was on purpose or not, but either way, they made a great duo.

It made me a little mad. What was up with filthy rich people being so attractive? Wasn't it enough that they had money? They had to steal all the good looks too? It was so unfair. Or maybe I was just too bitter. I had to work on that.

"A strange name, but I guess that's not important," the man on the right said, his tone smooth and curious. He had dark, neatly parted hair that was pushed up in the front. It was a little curly at the top and the back of it was styled so that it looked tousled. He studied my face, his dark green eyes squinting a bit.

The other tried to cover a laugh and my eyes shifted to him. He looked like your typical description of a Boy Next Door— chestnut-colored hair, brown eyes, a pretty face, and a kind smile.

"Aha, I get that all the time..." I said, feeling like I'd been staring at them for five minutes when in reality it was only five seconds. His comment annoyed me. I'd served him a couple of times before. Is this really the first time he paid attention to my name?