Chapter 3
The following morning, I dragged my exhausted ass out of bed. I’dbarely slept a wink thanks to the paranoia that I’d sleep through my alarm and miss my bus, as well as fretting that any minute the police were going to raid my apartment and arrest me for driving without insurance.
I still couldn’t believe Nash hadn’t reported me there and then, butsurely it was only going to be a matter of time before he did. My luck wasn’t that good.
When I wasn’t fretting about the police or my lack of funds to replacethe car, my mind wandered to Nash and his stunning silvery-gray eyes. The more I thought of them, the more certain I was that I had seen him before, I just couldn’t remember where. It wasn’t like I went to places where he hung out, you know, expensive wine bars or Michelin-star restaurants.
After Brian dropped me home following the accident, I instantly regrettedmy decision to decline his invitation to dinner. For the rest of the evening, I tried to convince myself that I did the right thing by not going, and no matter how hot Nash was, men were the root of all evil.
Still, I couldn’t remove the memory of him from my brain.
It was pointless regretting it though; I was never going to see Nashagain. Brian had made it clear when he dropped me off that he would be the one to call me once he had news on my car, and even though I’d given him my number, I wasn’t expecting him to pass it on to Nash.
I mean, why would he?
I turned the man down, something he probably wasn’t used to.
When my alarm went off at the ass crack of dawn, I skipped theshower, considering it was still broken. Instead, I washed with baby wipes, before dressing in my work uniform
I ended up wasting a few minutes trying to find some cleanunderwear, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find any. I’d done my washing at the weekend like I always did, but when I thought about it, I didn’t remember there being any panties. Yet when I checked the laundry basket, there were none in there either.
Not having time to investigate the case of the mystery missingunderwear, I had no choice but to go commando and hope like fuck no one would notice.
Heading out the door a whole hour and a half earlier than I was usedto, I braced myself for the freezing cold, wincing when a gust of icy wind blew up my pinafore and hit my bare pussy. But my feet came to an abrupt stop upon seeing a familiar car waiting in the parking lot.
Brian stood by the passenger door, dressed exactly how he’d beenyesterday; in his smart suit, and despite the ridiculously early time, he looked fresh as a daisy.
“Good morning, Miss Miller,” Brian said with a warm smile on hisface. As he spoke, his breath cast a puff of fog into the cold air.
“Hi. What are you doing here?” I replied, unable to stop the curiosity fromgetting the better of me.
Dread pooled in my tummy with the sudden worry that Nash hadchanged his mind and was going to report me to the police, and had sent Brian to give me fair warning so I had time to run.
“Mr. Carson thought you’d be without a car while yours is at thegarage. He wanted to make sure you got to work okay, especially in this cold.”
I think my brows disappeared into my hairline with how surprised Iwas.
“Shall we?” Brian prompted when I stood there dumbly staring at him.He waved a hand as he opened the rear door to the black Bentley he’d driven me home in yesterday.
I hesitated, not knowing whether to accept the lift or not. I mean, hewasn’t a stranger, but why did this feel weird? And why would Nash, someone I’d not only just met in rather unfortunate circumstances, but also turned down for a date, want to do something as nice as making sure I got to work okay?
Maybe it was because I was so used to being played for a chump thatI couldn’t recognize a kind act when it was staring me in the face.
I rubbed my hands together to try and get some warmth in them as Istared at Brian and the car, indecision weighing heavily on me.
“The heater’s on, Miss Miller. And I promise, I don’t bite,” Brian saidwith a mischievous grin. I couldn’t help but smile back. There was something about Brian that put me at ease and made me want to trust him.
“That’s very kind of you and Mr. Carson,” I said, decision made toaccept the lift. I slid into the back of the seat, the warm interior immediately engulfing me and warming up my freezing cheeks and hands.
And other certain areas I hoped Brian wouldn’t know about.
“Would you like to stop for coffee, Miss Miller?” Brian asked as heclambered into the driver’s seat. “We have plenty of time before your shift starts.”
He’d asked me yesterday all about my work, and if I had a shift today.I thought he was making polite conversation as he drove me home, and I’d grumbled about how I had a double shift, and would have to leave home at stupid o’clock to make sure I got to the diner before it opened at 6.30 am.
“Coffee sounds great.”
He nodded his head before putting the car in drive and pulling out ofmy apartment complex. As he did, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the headrest, enjoying the feel of the buttery soft leather seat I was sitting on, and the beautiful, sleek interior of the car.
This sure as hell beat taking the bus.
The morning rush came and went in a flash. Despite starting themorning wanting nothing more than to go back to bed for a few more hours of sleep, I found my second wind.
I suspected it had something to do with the strong coffee Brian hadinsisted on paying for, plus the three expressos I’d nailed when I got to work.
Thankfully, everything had gone smoothly. The coffee machine hadmiraculously been repaired overnight, every customer paid before they left, tipping me generously, and no bratty kid ran head first into me, caking me in beans.
As the last of the morning customers left, and I set about wiping downthe counter, the chime rang to indicate the door opening. My heart leaped into my throat when I looked up and my eyes clashed with silvery-gray eyes that I had thought about more than I should have.
Nash didn’t tear his gaze away from me as he beelined to thecounter, or rather, to me, walking with a confidence that made it seem like he owned the place.
His broad frame filled the aisle leading to the counter, and in his slickdesigner suit, he looked out of place in a greasy diner like Bean and Gone.
“Hello, Savannah,” he said when he reached the counter and perchedon a stool.
Like a total idiot, I stood gaping at him, momentarily forgetting how toform coherent words. Fuck, he was handsome. The memories I’d replayed over and over throughout the night did not do justice to how gorgeous he was in reality.
“Wh…what are you doing here?” I said when I found my voice.I hated knowing that my cheeks were on fire.
His head tilted to the side, and a smile graced his face. “Do younormally ask your customers why they come here?”
There was a hint of teasing in his tone, yet my cheeks flushed evenhotter. My eyes darted around to see if Harry was nearby and had heard me being rude to a customer. Luckily, he was in mid-conversation with Paul, who was cleaning the stove.
“Right, sorry,” I said, running a hand down my bean-free uniform.“What can I get you?”
“Coffee, black, no sugar. Thank you.”
“Sure,” I replied, getting straight to work, and feeling Nash’s eyes onme the entire time.
At the end of the counter, Charlie and Michelle, the two waitresses Iregularly worked with, whispered excitedly to each other while staring at Nash. He paid them no attention, I imagined he was used to women losing their heads whenever he was around.
“One black coffee,” I said, placing the steaming mug in front ofhim.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, no,” I replied, waving a hand in dismissal. “It’s on me. It’s theleast I can do to say thank you for your help yesterday, and for getting Brian to give me a lift this morning.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said, before giving me a smile that hit mestraight in the core.
For a moment, neither of us moved. There was something about thisman and his hypnotic gaze that made it impossible to turn away. Without thinking, my tongue ran across my bottom lip, and the audible sigh he let out caused a flutter deep in my belly.
“I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered dinner?” he tentatively asked,breaking the electric air between us.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say yes. Fuck, I really wanted to,and I wanted to eat a whole lot more than just dinner with this man. But common sense, or perhaps self-preservation, kicked in.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my tone full of regret.
He sighed again, this time in frustration. “Can’t blame a man fortrying.”
I gave him a small smile, while in the back of my head, a little voicewas yelling at me, wondering why the hell I had a self-imposed ban on men.
Liam Olsen. That was why.
“Actually, I did come here for more than just coffee and a bruisedego,” Nash said, his lips twitching into a smirk, and pulling me out of the dark hole I was teetering on thinking about my lousy, rotten ex.
“Oh?” I replied, unsure why a spark of hope zapped through me.
“Yeah, one of the mechanics at the garage I use took a look at yourcar. Aside from the damage from the crash yesterday, your brakes are completely worn, and the head gasket has blown. It’s likely to cost a few thousand to repair.”
“Oh,” I repeated as my shoulder slumped. I didn’t know why, Iwas expecting that to be the answer, yet the news still felt like a blow.
Wiping down the side again, I tried not to let the disappointmentshow. “It’s not worth a few thousand, and even if it was, I don’t have that kind of money.”
I couldn’t meet his eye thanks to the embarrassment coursingthrough me. It was evident from the clothes he wore, the car he traveled in, and the fact he had his own driver that Nash wasn’t shy of a few dollars. Yet here I was, making minimum wage in a diner, and unable to even consider spending another $50 on a car.
“It’s fine,” I said when I looked up and found him watching mewith pity on his face. “It was only supposed to be something to tie me over until I’d saved for something else.”
It was a big, fat lie, but Nash didn’t need to know that. He opened hismouth to reply but was cut off by the sound of the chime ringing out, and my gaze darted over to see who had just come in.
Once again, my heart jumped into my throat, only for a differentreason this time.
Trent walked straight through the door with his usual swagger andcocksure grin. Seeing me staring over his shoulder, Nash turned to see what I was looking at before turning back to me with a scowl on his face. When Trent reached the counter, he took the stool next to Nash.
“How’s my girl today?” Trent said, making me internally cringe like Ialways did whenever he called me his girl. From beside him, Nash’s body tensed, and the scowl deepened before he schooled his features again.
Christ. Did Nash think Trent was my boyfriend?
I hoped not.
Not that I wanted Nash to know I was single.
The first time Trent had called me his girl, I’d laughed it off thinking itwas a joke instead of setting him straight. Harry’s warning of ‘the customer is always right,’ had rung in my ear, and I didn’t want Trent to think I was being rude.
Three months later, Trent’s pet name for me had stuck, much to mydisliking.
“Hi, Trent,” I replied as nonchalantly as possible. “What can I getyou?”
His eyes raked over my body as if I’d just offered myself up on a plateto him, something he always did.
“The usual please, Sav,” he replied, giving me what I’m sure hethought was a charming smile.
Trent worked in the car salesroom down the road, selling expensivecars that I could only ever dream about owning. He’d tried to impress me by boring me to tears about the latest Porsche the garage was stocking, and how he was on the waitlist to own one.
What Trent didn’t realize was that materialistic things didn’t sway me,mainly because I knew how damaging it could be to want things you couldn’t afford.
I scurried off to give Chef Paul Trent’s order of chicken Caesar salad,with no anchovies, before I made his drink- an iced, decaf latte with oat milk. It was the same thing Trent had day in and day out.
This time as I moved about behind the counter, I felt two sets of eyeswatching my every move.
“Hey, Sav, what are you doing Friday night?” Trent asked.
Here we go…
“I…erm…I’m not sure yet,” I lied, knowing full well I didn’t have anyplans. Plans involved money, money I didn’t have.
“I’ve managed to get reservations at Sphere, what do you say?” Histone was full of confidence as if he had finally found the thing that would make me say yes to him.
Heat crept up my neck. I was used to Trent asking me out, but thistime we had an audience. Nash was watching me intently, waiting for my reply, and didn’t that make me feel all kinds of awkward?
“Isn’t there like a six-month waitlist to Sphere?” I said, instead ofshutting Trent down straight away. I didn’t know why I hadn’t just declined his invite, perhaps out of curiosity that he’d managed to get the reservations.
Sphere was a very expensive, and very exclusive fine diningrestaurant which had opened in Portland six months ago. It had been fully booked every night since and was owned by a famous French chef who’d won award after award for his culinary skills.
It was rumored that an average meal at Sphere cost $700, and thatwas without the expensive wine and champagne they served. The only reason I knew so much about it was because Michelle had droned on and on about how desperate she was to go.
“Yeah, but I sold a car to the assistant manager and managed tonegotiate a deal. I gave a couple of grand off in exchange for him getting me a table. So, how about it?” Trent said, puffing his chest up to show how proud of himself he was.
Once again, my eyes flickered to Nash whose lips were pulled into asmirk on one side. Although, I wasn’t sure if he was enjoying my discomfort or smirking at Trent’s arrogance.
“Thanks for the invite, Trent, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. Youknow I don’t date.”
“It doesn’t have to be a date,” Trent said quickly, not seeming to carethat he was coming off a little desperate. “We can just hang out as friends. Come on, Sav, when was the last time you did something fun?”
He made a good point. I hadn’t been out in over three months sincemoving to Brownsville and getting this job. Before that, I’d been too focused on getting caught up on my education to go out.
The few times I did venture out was with Liam, and we usually endedup in a casino which was hardly my idea of fun.
“Sav, everything okay?” Harry’s voice called out before I could say noto Trent yet again.
My head snapped to where Harry was watching from the other side ofthe diner. He knew Trent was a little pushy, and he always said that if Trent got too much to let him know, but so far, I’d managed to handle him myself.
“All good, Harry.”
“Good. There are customers waiting,” Harry said before turning back tothe till. It was only then I realized several customers were waiting at the counter. The lunchtime rush had begun.
“I best get back to work,” I mumbled to Trent, grateful for the excuseto stop talking to him.
“Let me know about Friday,” he called as I headed to serve the firstcustomer, ignoring the fact I’d already told him I wasn’t interested.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Shortly after I’d startedserving the lunch customers, Nash left, but I didn’t see him go. I cleared his coffee cup away, shocked to find that not only had he left money for the coffee, but he’d also left me a $100 tip, and a note to say he’d deal with my car.
I wished he’d left his number so I could thank him, and a little part ofme hoped Brian would appear after I’d finished so I could ask him for Nash’s number.
As my shift drew to an end, and I wiped down the last table in myarea, Michelle came over to refill the ketchup bottle. When she kept looking at me with a conspiratorial look on her face, I couldn’t stop the question from bursting free.
“What’s up?”
“You know Nash Carson?” she said with awe in her voice. Thequestion took me back.
How did she know who Nash was?
“I wouldn’t say I know him as such. I accidentally crashed into his caryesterday and he helped me get it towed away. He only came in to tell me there was no hope for it.”
Her brows rose before she let out an undignified snort.
“You crashed into Nash Carson?” she repeated, sounding very muchas if she thought I was making it up.
“Yeah. Wait, how do you know who he is?” I said, now distracted fromwiping the table.
“Erm, hello! Are you telling me you don’t know who he is?” shereplied in bewilderment.
I shook my head, my brows furrowing in frustration at her lack ofinformation.
“He’s Nash Carson of Carson-Fox Resorts!” she continued as if thatshould mean something to me. She sighed at my lack of response, rolling her eyes before continuing. “He and his business partner own like a gazillion hotels and casinos around the world. He’s the epitome of eligible billionaire bachelor.”
Stunned into silence, I gaped at Michelle as an image of Nash,wearing his expensive suit and stepping out of his sleek car popped into my head. It certainly explained why he wasn’t bothered about covering the cost of my tow.
When I still didn’t respond, Michelle pulled her phone from her pocketand tapped on the screen before shoving it under my nose.
Holy shit.
I snatched the phone from her hand and scrolled through the images.Picture after picture showed Nash at VIP events, Nash with stunning models who had fake boobs and tiny waists, Nash opening a new casino, and finally, the headlines declaring Nash and his business partner, Fox, to be in the top ten on Forbes Rich List.
I guess that was why he looked familiar, I’d probably seen himsomewhere on tv or in a magazine.
Embarrassment curled through me. There he was, billionairebachelor who could get any woman on the planet, and there I was, a waitress at a diner, earning minimum wage, and covered in bean juice when we first met.
Which begged the question, why the hell would he want to havedinner with me?
Right then, I was damn glad I’d turned him down. There was no wayI’d have managed to get through a dinner with someone like Nash without making the biggest fool of myself.
“Sav,” Harry called, poking his head out of his office which was off toone side of the counter. “Can I have a word?”
Hesitation laced his tone, and for some reason, that made mystomach drop to the floor. It didn’t sound like I was being summoned to Harry’s office for anything good.
Glancing at Michelle with a questioning look on my face, I gave herback her phone, and she shrugged in response. Not wanting to keep Harry waiting, I made my way to his office, finding him in his chair behind his desk.
Harry’s office was only small. He spent most of his time in it though,ordering stock, doing his books, and whatever else an owner of a diner did.
“Shut the door and take a seat,” he said, not meeting my eye.Trepidation grew in the pit of my stomach as I did as he asked.
“Sav, there’s no easy way to say this,” he started, disappointment andregret etched over his face. “But we haven’t been doing so well the past couple of months, and unless I lose a position here, I’ll struggle to break even.”
I stared wide-eyed at him, trying to decide if he was lying. His wordsdidn’t make sense, the morning and afternoon rush were busier than ever. I rarely worked an evening shift, but I’d spoken to a couple of the girls who did, and they always said how busy it was.
But why would Harry lie?
“What are you saying, Harry?” I asked, without really needing to. Iknew I was about to lose my job. A job I depended on to keep me out of deep shit.
“I’m sorry, Sav, but you were the last one in-”
“Harry, I can’t afford to lose this job,” I interrupted as tears pricked theback of my eyes, and panic started coursing through me. “Please don’t let me go.”
My voice wobbled and Harry’s face broke into a look of sympathy, butnothing could stop his next words.
“I’m sorry, Sav, but I’ve got no choice. I’ve got to let you go.”