Not My Billionaire

n, getting to work on the plates. At the very least, I owe her an apology. Doing these dishes for her should be enough to calm her down. Then, we can talk. Maybe I can give her a r

he terrifying industrial dishwasher, she spins on her heel and leaves.

with long dreadlocks tied behind his head

the door behind him, but the young woman from before doesn’t come in. This must be the actual

ic tray with appetizer dishes. “She told me to fi

g woman as before, which sends a surprising pang of disappointment through m

black serving trays from a shelf above m

these in before the n

o do this job. I follow his lead, and

first few minutes, he introduces himself as Hector, but our only other words are about getting the jo

r the whole resort. It’s attached to Chéri, but it’s not the only place

er cart full of dishes is brou

-aged woman with her hair in a net. Was I supposed to net my hai

e Alexis gets onto

re than to have a deep tissue massage and a nap, but I have to find the woman who I offended earlier. I smell disgusti

grease and dirty dish water despite the protective layer I just removed. I may have to throw it out, although I hate to be wast

eaking to well-dressed patrons. Compared to earlier, her voice is perky and friendly, so I must be catching her in a much better mood t

rfect and instead covered in flyaways, alt

ll signs of happiness that it had shown on the restaurant floor, and her ey

ted down, and her jaw is tense. How could s

planning in my head all day. “I just wanted to apolog

sn’t improve. Did I do that to her? Will she be angry in front of the resort’s most exclusive clients for the rest of the day?

re, but her words se

ore than made up for my behavior, but I can’t stand the idea that someone dislikes me without even knowing me

ead, she says, “Don’t walk through the

esort, but I don’t. That would only anger her more, but she wouldn’t be able to express her feelings towar

er. “Mr. Preston, what can I do for you?” she asks in a jovial tone. She doesn’t seem intimidat

lary here? Eighty, a hundred grand?” I ask. “I believe I’d li

your interest, but I don’t even make one hundred thousand dollars a year. Servers are paid a base wage of eight dollars an hour, plus tips. It’s above the state minimum.” She

oughly before trying to bring it up again. “T