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"Table 14!" the chef calls out through the kitchen. I pick the plates up off the counter and march over to the table.

"Alright, here you go," I set the dishes down before them. "How does this look?"

"Perfect. Thanks for that," the woman smiles.

"No worries. Enjoy your meal," I turn back towards the kitchen, quickly wiping down a table on my way. It's busy today — not unusually so, but still busy. It's bearable, though. It's definitely been keeping me from glancing at the door every three seconds.

"Thank God you're here," Karla grumbles, dumping a pile of plates on the counter. "Working without you yesterday was absolute hell. I had no one to complain to! No one!"

"Aw, I'm sorry. You could've called."

"And interrupt your time with Diego? I don't think so," she scoffs.

"Diego left, like... right after you."

"What?" she scowls. "He didn't take you on a one-way trip to pound town?"

"Oh my god, no," I laugh. "That's so inappropriate!"

"Well, it's not like you hadn't just spent the night getting to know each other."

"We didn't even kiss. I just spent the day cleanings the apartment and running errands."

"Is Penny doing okay?"

"She's great," I tell her. "She's completely back to normal, acting like nothing happened."

"Damn, kids are resilient."

"They're the best," I respond, but I barely get the words out before Eric storms into the kitchen.

"What the hell are you two doing in here?" he exclaims. "You're supposed to be out there, serving our customers like I pay you to do!"

"I'm going, I'm going," I hold my hands up in surrender.

"God, you should be lucky I didn't fire you after that stunt you pulled with the Ferrari's. You were acting like a spoilt teenager!"

"Alright, alright," I ignore his calls, knowing that responding in any way will only make it worse. Instead, I head back out to the bar, scanning my tables to see if anyone needs any help. But they all seem fine.

"Amy, pay attention!" Eric motions towards the door. I glance over, spotting Diego walk inside with Oliver and Roman in tow.

I smile widely. For once, I'm relieved to see them. I've been waiting for them — glancing at the doors at each chance I get. My heart skips a beat when our eyes meet. He winks at me cheekily, a cocky smirk on his face. I look away. When did I start feeling this way? I feel like a giddy high school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team. Oh, God, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually was the captain of his football team.

"Hi," I head towards them hesitantly, trying not to make my nerves obvious. It's almost impossible to avoid Diego's eyes. "How are we doing today?"

"Great now that we're here, huh?" Roman nudges Diego teasingly.

"Shut up, man," he shoves his friend.

"We're fine, thanks, Amelia," Oliver says, a polite smile on his face.

"Just the usual today?" I ask.

"That'd be great, thanks."

"No worries," I start to lead them to their booth, but someone grabs my hand. I turn towards them, coming face-to-face with a reluctant Diego.

"Sorry about this," he says. "I tried to convince them to go somewhere else, but they're assholes."

"It's fine. I don't mind."

"Nah, it's weird. You shouldn't have to serve us."

"Seriously, I don't mind," I assure him. "I was hoping you'd come."

"You were?"

"Yeah, I uh... I just wanted to check if we were still on for tonight."

"I hope so," he snickers. "I wore my lucky boxers and everything."

"Lucky boxers?" I laugh. "That's a bit presumptuous."

"Oh no, they're like a good luck charm. So I don't spill coffee on my shirt or some shit."

"Do you spill coffee on yourself often?"

"Not at all, but it would be embarrassing as fuck if it happened today."

I can't wipe the smile off my face. He just manages to make me laugh with all his little comments. We slowly make our way towards his table, where Roman and Oliver have already made themselves comfortable.

"We're not doing anything fancy or extravagant are we?" I check. I brought a change of clothes, but they're not exactly formal. I tried to match Diego's business attire, but I didn't really have anything. I settled for black jeans and a grey sweater. I didn't even bother bringing along an extra pair of shoes. My Nike's will have to do.

"Would that be a problem?"

"It's just not really my style."

"Don't worry," he waves me off. "We're keeping it casual. It might even get messy."

"Messy? Are we actually doing something?"

"Oh, for sure. We're going to have fun."

"Fun?" I eye him suspiciously, finally making it to his table. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," he takes a seat beside his father. They all turn to look at me, but it takes me a second to compose myself and put my waitress face back on.

"Should we get another waiter?" Oliver asks. "You shouldn't have to serve us today."

"Oh, no, it's fine," I tell him. "I'm happy to."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. What can I get you all?"

I take their orders one by one. As usual, both Roman and Oliver order some kind of alcoholic beverage, but Diego holds off on the Americana's today. He ordered just an iced tea.

Roman seems to be enjoying this a lot. He keeps glancing between the two of us with a knowing smile. It's obvious Diego has told them about our night, and I didn't expect anything less. Part of me had hoped he'd leave out the details about my living situation, but I doubt it. I'm not embarrassed about it, but it's not ideal.

I wonder what they think of me. Oliver has never been anything but nice. He's always friendly and polite. I can see why Diego admires his dad so much. I've never heard anything but good things about him. When he's seen out, he's always with his wife or kids, even though they're mostly adults now. I don't know him personally, but I can't see him being rude or unpleasant in any way. If anything, he's the opposite — always willing to have a chat and support you in any way you may need.

I see that in Diego, too. He looks threatening and unapproachable, but he's not like that at all. He's fun-loving and sweet. He cares about people.

Maybe that comes with the territory... not of being wealthy, but of being a Ferrari — of taking on the responsibilities they do and upholding the family image. They're classy, charitable, and respectable.

Diego's eyes meet mine from across the room. He shoots me a sweet smile, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. How does he manage to look so good all the time? He waves over at me, and I wave back.

"You're staring at him," Karla states, suddenly appearing by my side.

"I am not."

"You totally are. You're in love."

"I'm not!" I protest.

"You should quit here right now and join them. Eric would have a field day!"

"I wish," I scoff. I'd quit this job in a heartbeat, but it would take me a lot more than two dates with a wealthy man to get me there. 


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