Rose (The Billionairess, #1.5)

Chapter 2: Thomas

The drive back to Montgomery's was short, and I spent the trip praying that the young man would still be there. It was near closing time, and I didn't know how much longer after closing time they kept employees.

By the time I was dropped off, I could see the closing sign. I knew it wouldn't stop me. When you're wealthy, famous and deemed attractive by the public, you receive special privileges. I hated using my position to infringe on closing times. But I wanted to see that young man. And if there was one thing Tristen and I had in common, we both were adamant when we wanted something.

I wore a headscarf and glasses is no one would see me as I walked to the front door. As I stepped in, I nearly stopped. The young man was right there in the main dining room cleaning down a table. As he did he was bent over the table, and I could not help but admire his rear for a moment.

"Sorry folks" he said. "We're closed—"

He turned to face me just as I removed my scarf and glasses. It was like watching someone get electrocuted. He jumped startled, and starting trembling nervously. I felt a heat rush between my legs. I gave him a small smile.

"I-I'm sorry I-"

His stutter almost made me lose myself control. I quickly turned my attention to an approaching waiter, who agreed to allow me a seat. The perks of being rich.

I turned my head to glance over at the boy, when suddenly a short, stout Italian man with a balding head and mustache was in front of me.

"Good evening, Miss Delacourt" he said, his voice laced with the kind of sugar I always heard from businessmen I spoke to, usually with dollar signs in their eyes. "You decided to come back? Did you forget something?"

"I wanted to apologize for Tristen's behavior" I said. "He shouldn't have started a scene like that."

"Oh, do not worry about that for a moment," he said.

"I'm also here because I never got to have any dessert, and I've heard your cheesecake is impeccable."

I knew I didn't need to butter him to get a table after closing time. But when you work in business, it becomes a force of habit.

"Of course, Miss!"

He flicked his wrist at the waiter, who led me to a table. The manager, whose shiny name tags read "Albany", turned his head and started barking at the young man.

"Thomas!" he snapped. "Get some water for Miss Delacourt!"

The boy sprung to attention.

"Y-yes sir" he said, then sped towards the double kitchen doors.

As much as I wanted to strangle the man who scaring the poor boy, I now had a name for my knight in shining armor. Thomas.

I whispered it to myself, letting it roll off my tongue. Thomas. Thomas. Thomas.

Soon that pesky manager left and so did the waiter once I'd ordered a sirloin steak. I admittedly was still famished since Tristen and I never got beyond our drink orders.

The kitchen doors opened, and the boy now called Thomas appeared. Just as I expected, he looked scared out of his wits. I could see his hands trembling on the ice picker for reasons I assumed I had little to do with the cold.

He approached my table and didn't say anything as he poured my glass. I had a chance to look at him up close again. I wanted to play with his bushy hair, twirl it around my fingers.

"Thank you" I said as he finished.

He took him a moment to answer. He wouldn't look me in the eye and he seemed unsure if he was allowed to speak to me.