The dedication goes to ---->ninyatippett <-------- Because out of writer on Wattpad I find her stories compelling and truly breath-taking. They're so raw and outstanding, they leave you wanting what the characters she created have! She's an amazing writer! One that truly deserve all the recognition she can get.

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Chapter 9

I stand in front of a five star restaurant, contemplating whether to get in or keep staring. I'm sure the people who keep passing in and out of it are wondering what was wrong with me.

It's now evening and I've spent the whole morning roaming the town; asking managers, employers in mostly cafés or cashers just for a job and so far most have turned me down except for one café called Millie's. It had been past three in the afternoon when I had entered that café:

**

"Excuse me, who is your manager?" I ask one of the waitresses.

She looks at me up and down with an impassive expression on her face. She wrinkles her nose before popping the gum she is chewing.

"Who is asking?" Her tone detects annoyance but somewhere there's amusement playing in her tone.

I frown at her, "Me."

She burst out with laughter, "Oh really?"

"Yes, please I need a job".

"Don't we all, honey." She smirks.

I blink a few times at her and then she sighs and she motions to the back. She tells me to turn left and to keep on walking until I find a blue door.

And so here I am standing by the blue door, my nerves wrecking. I pray to divine providence that whomever is in that office will overlook the simple clothes I'm wearing and the tangled mess of my hair to at least hire me.

I knock a few times.

"Come on in." A muffled feminine voice speaks.

She is a woman?

When I enter, I'm momentarily dazed into shock at what I perceive in front of me.

Darkness.

It's everywhere. The walls are painted a dark grey colour, contrasting the white tiles of the floor. But everything else in the room screams gothic.

Why I immediately jump into this conclusion? Well because in the midst of this whole room sits a frail but dangerous looking woman who is petting her black haired Yorkshire terrier dog.

Like the whole room she wears a black plaited dress with all gothic accessories; on her face there are three piercings, one just over her eyebrow. There's a nose ring between her two nostrils and then another lip ring just on the corner of her bottom black coloured lip.

I then notice that on her neck, she has what appears to be a necklace which is coated in metal skulls.

What surprises me the most is the fact that she looks as if she is in her mid-twenties. I move closer to her black coloured desk.

"What do you want?" She asks in a tone of boredom, dragging her words.

"I'm Leyla and I'm here to ask if you have a space for one more waitress." I introduce myself.

She looks me up and down with a blank expression on her face. "And why would I hire you?" She sighs and I get a feeling she's always like this; nonchalant.

"Well...um...I...I'm determined to work and I can do long hours if you so wish and--"

She holds out her palm in gesture for me to stop.

"Have you busted tables before?" She asks indifferently with the same tone.

I shake my head sadly.

She frowns. "Then why are you here?"

"I need this job." I plead.

She leans back at her plush black coloured chair as she regards me with her blank expression.

"Hmm, you're just in luck then...one of our waitresses bailed on us. I think you could fill in her places." She says, boredly.

I blink at her, still processing her words and when finally what she has said hits me, I gape at her.

"Really?" I ask in shock.

Suddenly she beams sweetly at my reaction, "No, not really." She says in a sweet fake tone.

Wait What?

She smirks evilly when she sees my face fall. "I'm kidding. You have the job."

I sigh in relief.

"Oh it's fun playing with people." She smirks and I notice how her expression changes whenever she pulls it into a smirk. It's as if she something more than the gothic looks she wears. She is somehow beautiful.

"Thank you."

"Now, now before you go we have to discuss this."

"Firstly, I'm Millie as you can see from the café's name."

I smile at her.

"Secondly, how about you come on Monday and get the fill on waitressing, since you said you haven't before, is that fine with you?" She asks her bored tone becoming replaced by a business-like tone.

Is that fine with me? Of 'course it is, she needed not to ask that.

"Of 'course." I reply her, my smile bigger now just at the thought of finally having a job.

"Good. Since you'll be filling the last girl's place, you'll be working, Monday until Wednesday, morning until mid-afternoon and then Friday and Saturday noon until evening." She regards me to see if that if that was fine with me.

Is she kidding, this is more than I bargained for, as long as I have something along the lines of a job.

I nod eagerly at her.

"Then I'll see you Monday and we will discuss the payment then." She holds out her hand for me to shake.

There's a power in agreement. I think as I shake her soft hands. A complete contrast from the dark she displays.

I have finally got a job after morning of begging and being turned down. I guess my luck has turned up.

Afterwards, I spend whole day roaming around town and for the first time I actually appreciate life. It feels good to look forwards to something. Even if it was just minor, at least it was something.

It'd been evening when I thought that my sudden change of luck could maybe help me get one more job.

And I know I was pushing it when I thought of going begging for another.

**

That is how I'm finding myself standing in front of this prestigious five star restaurant and doubting if I will be able to even pull a job here.

I mean the intricate building itself stood alone and screamed expensive.

It's better to try. Just try. I tell myself as I enter the double automatic glass door.

The interior is packed and buzzing.

As soon as I'm inside I find myself in a line of a waiting queue.

Inside the walls look as if they're made of grey marble and they seem artistically constructed to give the place a medieval look. Even the paintings on the wall looked extremely expensive. Not to mention that inside of this restaurant there's a dining area and a bar area.

The dining area was on the far left where the walls are made of windows that overlooked the city lights.

And the bar area was on the right side. It's packed and looks as if there's a party taking place when a few already drunken people spew shouts over the noise of the music.

It's a complete contrast to the serene and calm of the dining area and this makes me wonder how the noise of the bar cannot be overhead by the people eating. They seem calm and in no way disturbed by it.

That's when I realize there's a glass wall suited in the middle which is dividing the two parts.

How convenient, I guess it must be soundproof. I wonder who thought of this, hence the owner.

"You have a reservation?" The girl behind the desk interrupts me from my reverie.

I study her for a moment. She wears a black shirt with matching trousers which I assume is the restaurant uniform. She has her sandy blonde hair tied up in a ponytail and her blue eyes look expectantly at me. She really is beautiful in a natural way. Maybe she can help me.

"Um no actually...where can I find your manager?" I ask her.

She frowns and that's when she regards me up and down.

For a moment I stand uncomfortably. I remind myself, however, that I look presentable in my blue jeans and long grey sweater. I remind myself that I brushed my hair this morning so the natural curls I had this morning were wavy.

I also remind myself that Jeremy has called me beautiful on a few occasions--oh here I go again, I mean, I've kind of succeeded into avoiding him all day--so there isn't a need for me for me to feel intimidated by her.

"You have an appointment or something?" She asks with a frown marring her features.

"Or something."

Her eyebrow shoots up in amusement. Then she proceeds on calling someone on the phone. They have a brief conversation that I don't catch but I can tell it's about me as she shoots glances at me now and then.

After she's done she motions for me to follow her and that's what I do.

We head across the bar and the noise is merely dominated by the chit chatter of the drunk people enjoying themselves. A few people bump across me, almost making me lose the person I'm following. But with a few pushes and mutters of "sorry" I manage to escape.

She leads us to a set of stairs which is away from the bar noise and I find myself in a silent but gloomy corridor.

"Just this way." She motions to the door that says manager.

"O-kay?"

She smiles fleetly at me before she knocks.

"What!?" An annoyed voice on the other side of the door, bellows.

"Uh sir, it's Hallie."

So that's her name.

There's a gruff in response coming on the other side.

She opens the door and motions for me to follow. I enter what seems to the most prestigious office for a restaurant, I mean it even has a plush office chair and a mahogany table for a desk and everything.

The office overlooks the city from its open glasses window.

Hallie clears her throat before she says, "Sir, um I called before about--"

"Yeah I know. You can leave now." A voice behind the chair which is facing opposite us speaks. I notice that whomever is behind that chair has a cigarette in his hands.

Before Hallie leaves, she taps my arm and her face almost looks pitiful at me before she whispers. "Good luck."

I'm rendered speechless and before I can reply her, I hear the faint creak of the door closing, indicating that she is long gone.

Why is she wishing me luck for? I wonder.

"You asked to see me. Why?" The manly annoyed voice speaks behind the turned chair.

For some reason his voice sounds familiar.

"I'm looking for a job?"

"Really." I can almost trace sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah." I mutter to myself.

Suddenly the chair swings to face me.

I gasp... in fact we both gasp.

Because sitting in that plush chair looking almighty as he leans his elbows on the arm of the chair is none but Greta's man friend who had been in the apartment earlier.

"Well, well, well." He proceeds to smirk up at me as he regards me, while I stand there with my mouth agape, still reeling from the shock of seeing him.

Suddenly the events of the inappropriate way he touched me earlier springs to mind and this flares up my anger.

"So you're looking for a job?" He gets up from the chair and moves so that he is half leaning half sitting on the desk table.

"I...Uh." It's one of those moments where I've completely ran out of words I can possible say.

Somehow he finds my lack of response amusing to him because he has the most cunningly cold smirk that makes the bones of my body even shiver.

No, I will not seem weak to him, not after what he did.

"So? You're just gonna stand there and say nothing?" He folds his arms, waiting for my reply.

I frown at him and then I do the most irrational thing... and trust me, I'm acting on instincts.

Because in a few strides I'm standing a breath away from him and as if on its own accord my hand collides with his face... in a harsh slap.

The smack from the contact is the only thing audible in the room. When it dies down, the only thing heard is the shocked gasp hissing from his mouth.

Shît, my hand sting!

But I don't let that derail my now fierce composure.

At first, shock registers in those cold blue eyes of his before they turn into an murderous glare.

Before I can say anything or move away he grabs my arm and pulls me even closer to him.

"What. Was. That. For?" He spits each word out.

I try to move my hand from his tight grip but he doesn't budge.

"Let me go!"

He narrows his eyes so that they are in slits as they stare down at me, but then his gaze swiftly trails down towards my lips.

That's when I start panicking. The feeble attempts to free my hand before now turn to full blown trashing.

"Why did you slap me?" His tone is icy, not to be messed with.

Finally with one final yank of my hand, I'm able to be freed from his grip. I back away from him but he follows suit.

"For earlier, you had no right!" I manage to match his tone.

The glare printed on his face slowly turn to understanding and with this, the smirk on his face is back.

"I had no right eh?"

"No right!"

He subconsciously rubs the spot on his face where I slapped him. I notice that I left a mark of my fingers on his skin.

Good!

But seeing this suddenly makes the sting on my hands throb.

He had to have a hard jaw!

"Last time I checked it was a free country." He sneers.

He was really getting on my nerves.

"I will report you!"

"Will you?" He takes a step closer towards me.

"Yes!" I back away immediately.

"What exactly would you report?"

"It's called sexual harassment!"

"It's not sexual harassment when one responds positively." At this rate he has a complete grin on his face and this time it's an actual genuine grin which reaches his eyes.

It complete changes his cold hard features and it actually makes him look attractive!

Attractive!? I need to get a grip.

Sure he is extremely good looking but personality wise. Nuh-uh.

"I am not responding positively," I glower at him and that's when my back hits the door.

He smirks, that famous cold sneer as he closes in my personal space. He is merely inches away from me. I can smell his scent which is a mixture of cigarette and a tint of body wash.

I hold my breath.

"You are, even now you're responding." His breath fans across me.

I scowl at him but inside I'm screaming and try to decide whether I should make a break for it.

"You know, I usually don't tolerate people slapping me, women or not--if you touch me...well, let me spare the gory details." His voice has turned to somewhat husky.

Don't let it affect you. Don not let it affect you! I yell at my betraying body.

"But," he continues, "When you did, ugh. It was sexy as hell!" He half growls, half moans as he takes a strand of my hair and places it back behind my ear.

The skeletal muscles that are pulling my face into a frown begin to falter as he draws in closer but before I can succumb to the overwhelming feeling of his front muscles bugling towards me.

I remind myself that he has kissed Greta today and that I'm supposed to loathe him.

"So am I suddenly supposed to feel special?" The tone of my voice is venomous and I can tell this is not what he expected from me because he draws away instantly as if realizing where he is and what is doing.

When he is at least a meter away from I finally relax and breathe. Before I can get comfortable, I feel cold daggers of his glare pointed at me.

I look up and meet his icy stare.

"You know you act all feisty and controlled when in fact you're a fragile piece of cõck teasing shįt." He says this in the harshest way that I'm surprised I'm affected by his words. I'm even more surprise that he can manage to shock me when I have known all along how callous he actually is.

However I'm quick to change whatever shocked expression he has pulled out of me when I retort by saying,

"You don't know me!"

He smirks coldly, "I know enough." He turns away so that I'm staring at his back as he heads for his desk.

Ugh! If I hated him before now I fully despised him.

"Oh so the toy boy not only sleeps around but he has a brain that knows." I say sarcastically. At this point I'm beyond enraged I don't even care what I say.

He turns to face me with an enraged glare.

"You're walking on thin ice Leyla, thin ice!"

Before I can react, I'm rooted shocked on the spot.

How does he know my name?

He catches my falter and that cold smirks is back.

"You see, I know."

"Just because Greta might have filled you in with my name and my status doesn't make you the all-knowing," I glare.

"Oh? But I'm just proving my point!"

"You don't know anything about me, nothing."

"I know what I need to know." He glares at me.

I return the glare full on.

"So you think just because you manage a prestigious restaurant you can go around groping people without their consent."

"Oh but Leyla I don't just manage it, this is my restaurant and bar! And I don't go around groping people; no you're the only exception to that." He smirks.

I am getting nowhere with him. Why are you even still doing here? It's not like he's going to offer you a waitressing job anytime soon. My inner voice decides this moment to get involved.

I'm certainly not taking it, now that I know who owns it. There's no way I'm going to work for him.

"You're too fragile Leyla, toughen up a bit! Give me all you got." I know he's laughing at me.

"You know what. Fûck you!" I let out that angry curse.

For some reason this makes him smirk even more.

"I will gladly, if you are the one I'll be fūcking."

"Ugh!" I've had enough of his conniving attitude.

I turn to the door, ready to leave but before I can open the door. I'm stopped by firm cold hands griping and pulling at my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" His expression is different. Gone is a cold smirk that seems to be his permanent expression. He is frowning in a concerned look. The concern is alien in his callous personality.

"Far away from you, that's where." I yank my hand away from his hold.

"I thought you wanted a job?"

"As if you're gonna give me one," I snort. "And what makes you think after that I'll be willing to work for you."

His mouth twist in slight amusement and that expression somehow lightens up his features.

Okay I need to stop viewing him as good looking.

Sure, he is attractive in his own cunning way, but I will be confusing myself of how I should act towards him if I view him this way and right now he is in my bad books.

"Well first, yes I was actually thinking of offering you one but now well, you proved you won't be capable of handling it." He says this as if he's talking of something else. Somehow there's a double meaning in his words. And this results in me shivering.

Foolish body!

"And second," he continues, "From knowing how