The Billionaire And The Waitress (gxg)

14 - a bite

MUSE had to give it to Julien Vitale: He made it to appetizers before unleashing his first snide comment.

     Drinks had already been served. Bourbon for Julien and Grey, a Shirley Temple for Adrien, and water for Muse. She hadn't expected the waiter to return so swiftly, and she'd had no idea what to order, so after Adrien had listed off three courses (three, Lord, it was going to be a long night), Muse had said, "I'll have what she's having."

    This had merited a narrowed glare from Julien. Grey Hansen, for his part, just sipped his bourbon. He seemed completely amiable so far. He had auburn hair, swept back like some rugged movie star, and a five o'clock shadow on his square jawline. He had black eyes, but not like Adrien's―his were dark as an oil spill.

    If Muse was a different woman, she might have found him charming. Him and Julien had already been seated when her and Adrien had arrived. But he'd stood up, air-kissed her hand, and greeted her like an old friend. His eyes hadn't even dipped towards the low neckline of her dress. 

    He seemed respectful.

    But Muse couldn't shake it. Across the table, when they made brief, friendly eye contact, she felt something was off. Something in those black eyes was missing. 

    His demeanor was amiable now, yes. But she wondered how fast that could change.

    The bruschetta―slices of Italian bread laden with diced tomatoes and cheese―was now set down by their waiter. Julien, across from Adrien, surveyed the platter. Then his eyes drifted to Muse, and his lip curled.

     Muse had been insulted before. She'd been degraded. When men didn't have to be nice to women, they weren't. Simple. So when Adrien's father opened his mouth, Muse figured, Hey, there's nothing I haven't heard before. 

     "It's like straight out of that Hollywood movie," said Julien. "You know, that one with the successful guy and the trashy whore who uses him. What was it called? Pretty Woman?"

     It was obvious, in this scenario, that Adrien was the successful guy and Muse was the trashy whore.

     "Oh, come on, Father." Adrien's voice, though teasing, was strained. "No need to call me a trashy whore at the dinner table."

     Grey laughed. Julien's jaw clenched.

     Trashy whore wasn't really so bad. But he'd said the trashy whore who uses him. Nobody had ever insinuated Muse was a gold-digger before. There'd been no reason for it, because it wasn't like Muse had ever spent her time hanging around billionaires. And she'd always been adamant about not owing anyone anything―hell, she'd offered Adrien a quarter because she didn't want to feel indebted over a tampon.

     Already, Muse could feel her cheeks getting red. She couldn't tell if she was furious or embarrassed. 

     Beneath the table, Adrien lightly tapped Muse's knee. A quick apology on behalf of her father, maybe.

    The comment shouldn't have stung so much. But Muse had just realized that, when the marriage did happen, people would be thinking it.

   A billionaire and a waitress. 

  Muse couldn't decide if it was better or worse that the marriage really was only for money.

   "Nobody cares about that sort of thing nowadays, anyway," said Grey.

   The attention of everyone at the table snapped to him.

    "My wife," he continued, "comes from humble roots, too. If anything, it's given me more perspective on how the other half lives."