Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I sigh. “Quit messing around and just order, Rob. You said you come here all the time. You must know the menu like the back of your hand by now.”
“A-ha, but it’s not my job to know it. It’s yours.”
Danni brushes past me, making her way to one of her tables. “You okay, Lana?” she asks.
I give her a cheery grin and nod, and she continues on her way. When I look back at Robert, I frown at him. “This is my first day. Please don’t be difficult,” I whisper.
Surprisingly, his face softens, and he reaches out to grab my wrist. His eyelids lower as he pulls me down to him. “I’m still thinking about that lace you had on yesterday,” he whispers in my ear, and I jerk away immediately.
Completely ignoring what he just said, I ask, “So have you made your mind up about what you want?”
He bites his bottom lip. “Sure, just give me the same as Dad’s having.”
Relieved he’s finally ordered, I scribble it down and turn to leave.
“Oh, and Lana,” says Robert, just before I’ve gotten away.
I turn back. “What?”
“I really like you in that skirt. It’s very…tight.” His eyes linger on my hips.
Taking a deep breath, I hold back from making any kind of response and go to put in their order. Returning to their table with two glasses of wine, I find that Alan’s finished up with his business call.
“I hear you’re staying with my Sasha,” he says. “How are you liking the house?”
“It’s lovely. We had a little barbecue in the back garden yesterday,” I tell him, placing the glasses down on the table.
“Delightful,” he replies, picking up the wine glass and taking a sip. “Oh, and before I forget, I’m throwing a party for my fiftieth at The Dorchester in a fortnight’s time. You’re welcome to come along and bring a date.”
“I’d love to come. Thanks for inviting me,” I tell him, surprised by the invite and also wondering how on earth I’ll find a date for it. I’m not very in the know about London hotels, but The Dorchester sounds pretty fancy.
“You don’t have to bring a date,” Robert interrupts sharply. “Sasha and I will be attending, so you can come in the limo with us.”
I nod. “Sounds good. I don’t know anyone in London to bring with me anyway. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your food.”
Wow. What was that about? Does Robert actually care about me bringing a date, or was that just a casual remark? A couple of minutes later their food is ready, and I bring it over to the table. Both father and son are having a detailed work conversation, so I put their plates down in front of them without interrupting. After that I get really busy, running around helping Danni attend to the lunch crowd. I only have another hour and a half left of my shift, since I’m part time, yet I’m hoping it goes by quickly. Interacting with Robert always takes the energy out of me.
I only have to return to their table once more when they ask for the cheque. Alan is already slipping on his suit jacket with his mobile phone glued to his ear. He waves goodbye to Alistair and walks out the door, while Robert stays to settle the bill. I expect him to leave the money on the table, but he doesn’t. He walks right up to where I’m shelving glasses at the bar and saunters around it to stand in front of me. “Here you go,” he says, smiling and placing his credit card on the counter.
“Oh, right,” I say, retrieving the scanner and swiping his card through it. He stands close to me all the while, practically hovering over me.
I move my shoulders uncomfortably. “Do you have to stand so close?”
His mouth twitches. “Yes.”
“Here, you need to put in your PIN,” I say, handing him the scanner.
He takes it from me, brushing my hand with his fingers, and taps in the numbers. I take it back and let the receipt print out. Robert pulls his wallet from his pocket, lifting out a fifty-pound note. He moves even closer now, and before I know it, he’s slipping it inside the pocket of my skirt.
“That’s way too much,” I say, as he takes his time pulling his fingers back out. They scorch my skin through the material.
“No, it’s not,” he answers, but before I have the chance to return it to him, he’s walking away from me and ducking out the door of the restaurant. Not in all my days waitressing have I ever gotten a tip that big. Oh, how I long to know what Robert is playing at.
The remainder of my shift flies by. I get the Tube back to the house and lie down on the couch in the living room to watch some TV.
I’m eating a chicken salad for dinner at around five-thirty when the front door opens and shuts. Knowing that Sasha doesn’t get home from work until at least seven, I presume it’s Robert. I momentarily regret being in an old T-shirt and yoga pants, but then I scold my subconscious for perpetually wanting to impress him. My subconscious is a shallow bitch.
I have my feet up on the couch, my salad bowl in my lap, and “Come Dine with Me” playing on Channel 4. I hear Robert’s keys jingling just before he steps into the room and takes his time surveying me.
“Well, you’ve certainly made yourself at home,” he says jovially, throwing his suit jacket down onto an armchair and undoing the second button on his shirt.
However, instead of sitting down on said armchair, he pushes my feet out of the way and sits on the couch with me.
“Sasha does that, too. I never understood it,” he remarks, eyeing my salad.
“What?” I ask, munching on some lettuce leaves.
“Watches food shows while she’s eating.”
I grin. “Yep. That’s one of our favourite things to do. It’s no fun watching food on TV if you’re sitting there, starving.”