Forbidden Love [bwwm interracial]

Chapter 2- Jonathan Stiller?

RING! RING RING!

I groaned as I turned over and slapped the off button on my alarm.

6:45 a.m.

Throwing the sheets off myself, I sat up and looked around my home.

Well, my shabby apartment.

I rolled off my mattress–that was placed on the floor–before standing up, stretching with a yawn and heading to the bathroom.

I hadn't gotten home until around 2 last night from the restaurant after dealing with Mr. Asshole and his delightful friends.Well, his associates weren't so much of a problem. Yeah, they laughed inconsiderately loud and stayed way past closing chatting the night away, but the dashing yet arrogant bastard himself was the worst out of the three.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face and looked in the mirror. I rubbed the bags that hung under my eyes before peeling off my nightwear and stepping out of them. Pulling the shower cap over my newly done hair, I stepped into the shower under the hot water and recalled the events of last night.

"Liv," Mr. Asshole called me from across the restaurant, "Oh Liv, darling!"

I just put down their entrees; what the hell could they possibly need!

"Yes, sir?" I replied as I reached the table.

"Can you tell me where I can smoke?"

I looked over at the other two men of the party who were laughing behind their hands. I resisted the urge to yell at him, asking him if he was dumb or just plain stupid.

"Maybe outside?" I offered, holding back from adding the word dumbass too.

"You, know, that sounds like a good idea," he smirked. He stood up and walked past me. Oh wait, but not before looking at me from my feet to my face and biting his lip.

I rolled my eyes at him, wanting nothing more than to follow and slap the shit out of him.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you gentlemen?" I asked, obviously aggravated.

"No," They said through their laughter, "That'll be it for now."

I went and sat down at the now closed bar. The entire restaurant was empty, except for the party I was serving, my manager Carl, and I. Even Millie had left almost an hour ago and I couldn't wait to leave. My head hurts, my feet hurt, my back hurts, and I'm getting ready to slap each of those son of bit-

"Liv!" They called.

"In the name of all things sane and holy!" I grumbled, jumping out of my chair and stomping over to their table. What the hell is wrong with these people! "Yes?" I asked with attitude, hands on my hips. It was almost 11 o'clock and I have class tomorrow!

"My food is no longer warm," He looked up at me with a smirk.

My eyes went wide as I looked down at him. His friends were cackling on the other side of the table, but I was way too upset to even bother with them.

Well maybe if you hadn't taken so goddamn long to eat it then it would still be warm!

"And what would you like me to do about that?" I asked through clenched teeth. I wanted to do nothing more than pick up the fork off his plate and stab him with it, but I did not have the time or money to be dealing with the aftermath of that.

"I would like you to take this plate back and bring me a new one," He replied. "My food is cold and I would prefer my food to be warm how I got it."