Stella & The Playboy

Stella & The Gnocchi

Chapter 1

"What can I get for you guys today?" The waitress asks, clutching her notepad and pen in hand.

Before I can respond I'm cut off by my supposed date in front of me. "She'll get the salad and I'll get the steak with potatoes."

I quirk my eyebrow questioningly at the man sitting across from me and he smiles at me, "It's good for you." He turns back to the waitress, "That'll be all."

I scoff at him, "Then why aren't you getting it?"

He chuckles, "Salads are for women, when have you ever seen a man eating a salad?" I roll my eyes at him. He points at me, "And plus eating less will help you lose a few pounds. I like skinnier women."

Oh, I think I've heard enough.

I grab my purse from the seat next to me and stand up. "Where are you going?" He asks, his expression confused. I flash him the fake smile I've been forced to wear my whole life, "Home." I pick up the glass of water in front of me before pouring it on his head. "Good night Thomas."

Most eyes were on us as Thomas stood up from his seat with his mouth open in shock. "What the hell? Your father will for sure hear about this!" He exclaims as I walk away from the table. I don't turn back as I call for an Uber from my phone.

This was maybe the 5th date this year that my father had set me up with, and it was only March. One thing to know about my father, I hated him. He's an arrogant, inconsiderate, overcritical, cruel excuse for a father. And I had no idea how my mom fell in love with him. My mother was the sweetest woman you'll ever meet. She was kind, caring, and one of my best friends.

So for her to somehow put up with him? Was something I'll simply never understand.

My father was the CEO of a very successful company that I also happened to work for. Ever since I turned 24, my dad keeps insisting that my clock is suddenly running out and I need to get married as soon as possible.

But I didn't want to get married, I didn't like men. Not that I wasn't attracted to them, I have just never had a successful relationship with a man ever in my life, my father included. All they've ever done was disappoint me, and I've gone through enough disappointment.

Nevertheless, my father insisted I go on these dates, to mingle and make friends. But I know his real objective. Each man that I met with just so happened to be the son or the heir to another wealthy business. For example, the man I just poured my water on happened to be the son of Henry Page, CEO, and founder of Globex Industries. My father was obviously using me as a pawn to merge with other companies.

Although he won't admit it, it was fairly obvious. My father never really took interest in what I did, as long as I behaved and got good grades. He simply didn't want a child to be the one to make him look bad. Growing up my father spent most of his time working and occasionally made time for my mother, but never for me.

When my father and I did speak it was brief, a simple greeting and we were on our separate ways. Lately, he had been using my mother to persuade me to go on these stupid dates, so I went for her. But this was it, I was done.

The drive back to my family's house was short since I was at a nearby restaurant. Surely my father hadn't gotten news about my little performance at the restaurant yet, so I could retreat to my room peacefully.

When I opened the door to the house, there my father was sitting on a chair in the foyer drinking from a mug. His face showed dissatisfaction as he sipped his coffee.

"Stella." The first word he had spoken to me all day.

"Yes?" I ask crossing my arms.

"I just got a message from Henry Page indicating that you drenched his son in water. Why is that?" He asks calmly.