Beautiful Stranger (18+)

Prologue

Sebastian's POV

She sat in the booth alone, her hair unbound and flowing down her back, her piercing grey eyes scanning over the restaurant, legs crossed over the other, exposing her dark skin. She is sipping on a glass of what I assume is straight tequila by the looks of it. Sexy. I love a woman who can hold her liquor and drink the hard shit. Her posture was relaxed, arrogant even as she watched people be seated, hold conversations, sip on their drinks, and twirl pasta around their forks. Her charcoal grey eyes, almost black in color under the dim light do not portray the same. She looks irritated and uncomfortable, annoyed at something or someone.

Perhaps it was from the man who tried to talk to her earlier. She seemed interested at first, that quickly changed when he opened his mouth; most likely saying some stupid, cheesy pickup line.  An amused smile tugged at my lips when she flipped off his turned back and then stuck out her tongue like a child. A scowl settled over her features soon after and it has yet to leave.

She signals the waiter for another drink. Her third of the night. The waiter, Carl, nods and makes his way to the bar, where I am currently watching the beautiful woman from across the room like a fucking creep. I make it a point to know all my employees' names, my father and mother did the same. I intercept Carl by placing my hand on his shoulder and saying loud enough for the bartender to hear, "I'll take this to her." Carl nods and scurries away to check on his other tables.

I don't understand why people scurry and scuttle away from me like I lit their ass on fire. Sure, I can be a ruthless bastard, but I'm respectful and I'm only an asshole when you threaten my family or threaten me. It's a defense mechanism, but doesn't everyone have that? I have lit a human ass on fire before so maybe that wasn't a good analogy.

Dre slides a glass of tequila and a fresh glass of rum and coke across the bar towards me. I thank him with a nod of my head and stride for the hostess at the reception desk. She smiles and flutters her eyelashes as I approach. I inwardly roll my eyes and prepare for the flirtatious comments I know I'm about to receive. This wouldn't be the first time one of my employees has flirted with me, especially Kammy here. I have a rule about sleeping with my employees, too messy. I learned that the hard way with a clingy bitch that worked at one of my clubs in Spain that I frequently hooked up with. It's worse in America, one of the main reasons why I avoid coming here so much.

"What can I do for you, Boss?" She flutters her eyelashes in rapid succession and bends over to show her cleavage. I don't take the bait no matter how tempting. My eyes are set on the beauty in the booth.

"Do you have something in your eye?" I ask, scratching at my freshly shaved jaw in perplexion. "Did one of those fake eyelashes fall out? I know how arduous those can be from my sister."

Maybe I am an asshole.

Her smile completely falls off her face and the fluttering stops. Thank goodness. Her spine straightens and she clears her throat, her cheeks red from embarrassment. "D-did you need something?"

"I do, actually." My eyes fall on the grey-eyed beauty and hers follow. "The woman at that booth add her tab to mine and could you tell me if she had a reservation and who it was for?"

She flips through the reservation book and says, "Chase Jameson, table for two at six o'clock."

Chase? Not usually heard in regards to a girl's name, but I guess it could be unisex. Party for two at six o'clock. Her date obviously hasn't shown up yet and it's-I check my watch-a quarter past seven. What kind of asshole would stand her up? Whatever, their loss is my gain.