The virgin and the billionaire Bad-Gentleman

Well, I will need an extremely skilled dentist.

“I doubt it will make much of a difference,”

The man wrinkles his nose.

Why don’t you just bring me whatever is tasty around here, sweetheart?

Instead of grasping my pen like it’s a weapon I’m ready to jab in his neck, he smiles as if he expects me to start fanning myself and laughing.

“Hey, I’m not your darling; I’m your waiter.

It’s not like choosing is a difficult task.

Spoiler alert: they’re all just hamburgers and fries.

When you’re ready to place an order, let me know.

I’m out of time for this.

I make a quick turn on my heel and head straight for the kitchen.

When I stomp through the fryers and out the back door, my blood whooshes in my ears. I briefly shut out the outside world as the heavy metal door clicks shut behind me and take a few deep breaths. I realize I overreacted. He didn’t really deserve my outburst, but I’m so tired of people assuming the worst about me.

Guys assume that a young waitress is an easy target because they believe that we are all desperate to go home with the person who tips us the most.

More than one classmate has told me at school that I couldn’t possible have gotten into the masters program through constant studying, research, and hard work.

No, it must be because I’m meeting a diversity quota. I was dragged down by people’s ignorance even when I was a young child. Everyone believed my father to be another slacker. When they observed a black woman taking care of four young children, they assumed he had screwed up. The fact that he was killed in a car accident by a drunk driver would never even cross their minds. My father was a wonderful father up to the day he passed away. He made every effort for us. He was died when I was just seven, yet I still have so many wonderful memories of him.

“Whoa, Kendra, Mr. \sTaylor is flipping right now. What happened to that person?

I wasn’t even awake when Brianna emerged from the rear door.

Her fuchsia lips are already holding a cigarette.

She quickly glances behind her before lighting it up and taking a few long drags.

“Eww, seriously?

When are you going to give up?

I fling the smoke out of my face.

Brianna shrugs at me; I can tell she is sick of hearing me nag about this as I have been trying to convince her to stop smoking for years.

She blows the smoke away from me as she glances at me momentarily out of the corner of her eye.

She puffs on her cigarette as though it were the oxygen mask she might someday use.

Are you going to tell me what that man said?

“He called me \ssweetheart.”

I immediately became aware of how ridiculous it sounded that I had made such a deal about it once my flat voice echoed his.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Whoa, how does that animal manage to survive on its own?

She smiles.

What a beast!” she snarls in dramatic fashion.

“I’m simply weary and angry, you understand.

Right now, I’m just a walking raw nerve.

“Well, that much is clear. I swear, I’d love for him to call me sweetheart, baby, or nasty little slut. He’s scorching hot!

“Oh yeah?

I’m lying; I didn’t really notice.

I just had a glimpse of him from behind, but all I saw were those shoulders.

Mmmm. Give me a break, Kendra; spare me that expressionless gaze. For the love of God, I know you have eyes, and you can see how handsome he is. What is it with you? Do you detest hot women? , “You

Easy for her to say. Brianna didn’t bother with college at all. She claimed she was too young to become mired down with a desk job and that all she wanted to do was enjoy herself while she was still young. She often ignores my advice to aspire higher and return to school since she already has too many dates set up and social engagements to attend. With stunning mocha complexion and gorgeous golden brown eyes like Brianna possesses, it is definitely much simpler to exude confidence around all those hot guys.

You know I’m too busy right now to do that!

I still need to finish my degree before I can find employment, move into a new apartment, etc. “I know, I know.” She gestures with her hand as if to shoo away the case I’m putting together, like a pesky insect. “I just feel that you ought to have a little fun now and then. Going out and acting your age wouldn’t hurt you at all.

Brianna squanders the cigarette beneath her black shoe and combs her beautiful, lustrous hair. God, I wish I had her hair. She must have Beyonce’s stylist sequestered in her wardrobe, I swear. I longingly run my fingertips through my own short, curly, and frizzy hair. I’m making a pathetic effort to pin it back, but all it seems like is a black cloud billowing out around my head.

I’ll go cover your tables, see.

Just resolve issues with Mr. Taylor amicably before he becomes upset.

I’ll be happy to go serve Mr. Sweetheart as well.

She smirks. “I don’t know what it is about that guy, but he kind of looks familiar,” I said.

I chuckle, “Maybe you did serve Mr. Darling.

Brianna gives a little \ssnort.

“Maybe; I wouldn’t rule that out.”

She exits the restaurant, leaving me in a mist of her smokey aroma that is quickly dissipating.

Taylor could settle down if I apologize to the person, which I should probably do.

Returning to the dining area, I see that Mr. Sweetheart has already left.

Shit.

So perhaps I can resolve this with the boss.

Brianna approaches as I’m about to return to Mr. Taylor’s office, waving a napkin in the air as if she were declaring victory.

“Kendra, wait!”

“Ohmygod!” she says as she clutches my arm. Do you know who that was?”

She is bouncing around so much that I can’t read what is written on the napkin.

While I try to think of actors or politicians, Brianna stops leaping and gives me the side-eye. “Seriously? Do you ever, like, go outside? Matthew Blackwell did it.

The name is one that I recognize.

In order to pursue a master’s in business in Manhattan, you must be familiar with the Blackwells.

They control numerous media and communication companies all around the country, yet Matthew Blackwell still manages to get news headlines about his bad-boy, lady-killing activities every other week.

“Oh.”

“Are you fucking kidding \sme?

Oh?

Matthew Blackwell, I said.

The billionaire. And see! He left his phone number!

I take the napkin out of her hand and read the writing in blue across it:

Let me make it up to you.

I’ll get you a special supper sans fries.

My cell: 555-2928.

Matthew Blackwell

“Uh, no thanks.”

I tuck the crumpled sheet inside my apron pocket while scrunching my nose.

“You can’t be serious? There’s no way you won’t call, right? Brianna seemed to be about to start hyperventilating. Are you crazy, Matthew fucking Blackwell wants to take you out on a date? The man must be worth a kajillion dollars! And he’s single as well.

“Excellent for him, but why is he approaching a waitress in this slum?

Nothing about this strikes you as odd?”

“You’re always so suspicious!

Enjoy the fact that a really handsome, super wealthy, guy wants to take you out.

Are you really going to say that you won’t call?

Are you serious?

She sounds as though she’s either going to sob or slap me.

Probably both.

I think briefly about what it may be like to date someone who is so undeniably attractive and who seems to be able to read all of my innermost secrets with a single glance.

I remember how amazing and yet frightening his eyes were.

The way his specially made suit caressed each and every muscle in his broad shoulders and powerful arms… This returns me to the present and prompts me to ask: Why is he interested in me? I’m not a stunning beauty, and by flipping out at him over calling me sweetheart, I most certainly didn’t enchant him.

“I’m not kidding and I’m not calling.

At best, this person only wants a date because he feels awful; at worst, he may have other desires.

I don’t have time for these games, any way.

“Kendra, get over yourself for one night and go have some fun, please. How frequently do you imagine yourself going out on a date with a hot CEO? So, what’s