One Night Stand with Billionaire: BOOK 1

*Chapter 1: How it all started

EDITED on 14th Novembar 2015.
Final edits: 20th August '16

The Ultimate edits: 16-02-2022!!!

"hehe, I think I finally got rid of all typos  yeas later lololol"

Also, every character of mine has different personality, do understand that there are over 7(8, damn do we multiply) billion people on this planet and not everyone thinks the same way you do.

I don't necessarily have to agree with my characters, so I'm not by ANY FREAKING WAY forcing my opinion on others. If it were me, I wouldn't act nor think like Kaley in over 70% of this book. I'd probs take Blake's money and go to enjoy life wit Ayden on Hawaii or something...

I'm not Kaley and she's not me, don't go creating your opinion of me based on a imaginary person.

___________________

Never trust others too much. Remember, the Devil was once an angel.

"Would that be all?" I asked, smiling at the regular customer politely. Her name is Betty, or that's what her current date called her. She went all the way from Beatrice, Trix, Bella, Trice and Betty, so it's kind of hard to guess which one of those will come out next.

Being a waitress at the little café across the corner may not have been my ideal job, but the payment was just enough for me to deal with the rent and take care of Ayden.

"Make sure that salad is well washed," she snarled dismissively at me. And no, I wasn't joking. She'd scrunch her face whenever she saw another girl and would start grabbing all attention from people around her. Insecure or just obsessed with attention?

I kinda felt sorry for her dates sometimes. She must have noticed her leather clad date checking out my legs and I sighed. I knew I was short, but he looked at them just like I was barely a meter tall. Why was I so different from other girls?

Betty had the kind of confidence I yearned for, despite her annoying personality. However, I really couldn't do it so I also, in some kind of twisted camaraderie, hated her back. I looked at her closely and thought of an appropriate put down. She's a golden blonde, medium height, wearing a top that just about covers her C cup breasts and a skirt that barely covers her butt and thighs. She also wore high heels. A woman could wear whatever she liked but I must say that Betty's the kind of person someone might think of as the "blonde" stereotype. Sigh. I really don't know if I admired or hated this woman anymore. I was not picking on blondes seeing as I was one myself, but if I hated something, then it's when people disrespect other people. There's also an unwritten rule not to be rude to someone who handles food you are about to eat. I have no patience for people being rude, I was quite famous in my middle school as the most violent midge—petite girl. Cough, never mind my black history.

Take Betty for example, she had nineteen different dates bring her here for a meal this past fortnight. Betty has seen me waiting on her, serving her meals and clearing up afterwards. She probably thought that I was a young woman with no intelligence, no college prospects, or self-worth so she's been disrespecting me because her date checked out my legs. And she got all her dates to pay for her meals. Quite remarkable if you asked me. Some have even left me generous tips. I didn't mind the snake dance their tongues did in each other's mouths in between their meals, but I minded that she looked at them like they were her toys. That personality of hers reminded me of my aunt. Manipulative.

"Sure thing." I feigned a smile then made a beeline for gourmet chef Ryan. I handed over to the old man Betty's and Hunk Number Nineteen's food orders.