CHAPTER ONE

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edited 15 april 2021

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edited 15 april 2021

"Damien Pierce has been spotted once again with a new girl! This has been his fifth girlfriend apparently and he is currently not answering any further questions from the media," I snort at the statement, my hand searching in my bowl unfortunately left with no popcorn.

Correction, it had been his seventh girlfriend after some frequent searching and it just amplified how untrustworthy the media really was. My gaze moves away from my melancholy empty bowl and to the television screen as Damien Pierce swaggers down the roads with a model-like figure strutting next to him. That was his usual type; long legs, tall with blonde hair.

I roll my eyes and gaze towards my blinking phone screen the time alarming me.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I exclaim, narrowly missing the popcorn bowl and running to my room to switch into my uniform. My hand grasps around my bag, phone and keys before racing out on the New York streets.

"Ricardo's Pizza Hive please!" I say quickly and the driver nods before the skylines become a blur of colour.

It was the least surprising that I was once again late to another shift, despite my dad owning the restaurant I work at. It was expected of me, although my dad teased me of my untrustworthiness and tardiness each day. Gratefully, the streets of New York were unusually quiet allowing me to get to work in record time.

What I didn't expect was for the air in my lungs to escape from an air-sucking hug I receive as soon as I walk in.

"Isla motherfucking Accardo! Where on Earth have you been?" Erin's grip tightens around me imperceptibly and I wince slightly, gasping for air.

"You know," I shift in her arms, "Maybe I'll be able to answer if you let go," I breathe through gulps of hair. She lets go of me sheepishly.

"Sorry, but it's been ten years since we've worked together," We pass each other a cheeky grin, "It's probably the best, never mind."

"Not after the amount of mischief we've created," I comment. I glance down at the cooking apron she's wearing and frown, "Waitress duty for me?" I ask, regardless of knowing the unfortunate answer I was to receive.

"You know it," she winks and slaps my ass playfully before disappearing from view. I sigh. Waitress duty had to be my worst nightmare. Not only did I have to talk to people but I had to act like I really cared. You get a range of people coming into a restaurant. You get the generic single individual, the standard family, the noisy family who's unable to shut their toddler up and the jealous girlfriend who thinks me asking her partner what drinks he wants is me flirting. 

This is why I hate waitress shifts.

The photogenic smile I've mastered appears on my face as I approach my first table.

"Hello, welcome to Ricardo's Pizza Hive, what would you like to order?" I ask briefly, barely looking up from my awaiting notepad. He doesn't answer for a second and my eyes flicker upwards before raising an eyebrow.

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