Free Anything He Wishes (Billionaire BDSM Erotic Romance) by Alana Marlowe Page B

seeing the man of your dreams sitting at your own table and knowing that you will never be able to know what he is really like and if he meets up to your expectations.  At least I knew now that he actually existed.
    I look over into the mirror behind the bar to see what I look like.  Crap.  My red tresses are all over the place and falling out of the clip. My mascara is smudged under my eyes.  Quickly, I check my teeth and lipstick as I try to make myself look as presentable as possible.  Realizing there is only so much I can do, I grab the tray and head back over to the table.
    My stomach is in knots as I casually act like nothing is out of the ordinary. Everyone is carrying on and laughing at something Mrs. Fitch has said as I wait patiently for a break in the conversation.
    As I sat the glass down I admired the thickness of his jet black hair.  It was slightly wavy and looked like it was gelled in place.  Longer on the top and shorter on the sides and back.  The desire to run my fingers through it was intensely overwhelming .
    "Jessica!" the screeching sound of Mrs. Fitch's voice made me jump.
    "Yes, Mrs. Fitch?"
    "I am ready to order now!"
    I took a deep breath as I concentrated on getting everyone's order correct and even read it back to them to be clear .  Especially Mrs. Fitch's.   If I could make it through just this once without having her complain about something, it would be a great day.
     
2
     
     
    In between serving the salad and the main course, I tried to keep myself from staring at him .  It was almost like he was a magnet and I was being pulled into him.  Never in my life have I found it so hard to resist staring at a man before.
    Most of the meal went without incident and I was grateful that through the whole meal, Mrs. Fitch didn't complain about anything.  Perhaps it was because Mr. Ross was there, or perhaps it was something else, but I didn't care.  I would love to be the first server in the place to actually make it through an entire meal with her and no complaints.  Now THAT would be a first!
    But as life would have it, that didn't happen.
    As I was pulling the plate away from Mrs. Fitch, she grabbed my arm pulling me towards her. 
    "Why can't you ever seem to get my order right!?"   Her brow was furrowed and the scowl made me imagine a pie being pushed in her face.
    I looked down at the plate.  It was empty.  If it wasn't right, how come she ate it?  At this point in time, my focus was only on her and her antics.  I wasn't about to apologize because I knew that it was right. "What was wrong with it?"
    She glared at me as if I was supposed to know what was wrong.  Feeling myself go rigid I waited for her response.
    "Well...I ordered the tuna salad and this was chicken salad!" She boasted, as if she had won something that wasn't up to win.
    I pulled out my order book and looked at what I wrote.  Then I broke the cardinal rule of service.  I corrected her.  And I did it right in front of all her friends.
    "No Ma'am.  I asked three times to make sure I had it right.  I wrote it right here, see?"  As I pushed my order book in her face for her to see what I wrote.  "See, right here, it says chicken."
    I knew I was moments away from being fired, but I had enough of this woman's game and I didn't care at the moment.  I was growing tired of hearing her bitching about everyone and everything as if it was her job to make everyone miserable.   It was frustrating to know that no matter what any of us ever did, there would always be something wrong. 
    The look on her face was priceless.  I suddenly realized what I had done and now had to figure out how to fix it.  I briefly glanced up at the man with the crystal blue eyes.  He was leaning back in his chair, his arms folded in front of him with one eyebrow raised and a small smirk on his face.  His dimples were showing slightly and my heart fluttered as our eyes locked momentarily.
    I broke the stare and refocused.
    "Mrs. Fitch,