The Billionaire And The Waitress (gxg)

16 - a sleepover

"READY?" 

     No, thought Muse. A hundred percent no, not even a little bit.

     How had she agreed to this? Had she really thought it would be a good idea? She'd said no. And then she'd changed her mind. She should blame it on something―the sugar high from the dessert. Or the way Adrien's jet-black eyes had captured hers, dark and shining and full of some mystery emotion.

     Curiosity was a good scapegoat, too. Simple curiosity. Muse just wanted to see the inside of Adrien's apartment.

     "I want to see what you write with. Says a lot about a person, you know. Their choice of writing utensil."

     Well, it would certainly be illuminating to see what filled the space Adrien lived, breathed, slept in. 

     Not that Muse cared that much. 

     She cared the normal, platonic, professional amount. That was all.

      "Ready as I'll ever be," she said, meeting Adrien's stare head-on. 

      The bill already paid, tip left on the table, Adrien held out her hand for Muse. Muse looked down at it. Swallowed. Then extended her own hand, letting Adrien's fingers interweave with hers. The warmth made her body feel fuzzy, loose.

      Leading her out of the little dessert shop, Adrien paused on the sidewalk. There was a platform, a step separating the shop from the ground. Adrien's other hand brushed Muse's waist, guiding her, and Muse stepped down―into the witching hour of New York. Past 3 a.m, the buildings towered over her, thousands of little windows glimmering, blinking like golden eyes. There were no stars. But there were people, awake, alive, bright all around her. She loved that more than she loved anything else.

     Even in the middle of the night, the whole city thrummed. Music and movement and endless conversation. You were never alone. 

     This was why Muse had to make the deal. This was why she didn't want to leave.

     "I texted my chauffeur already," Adrien said. She gave Muse's hand a light squeeze. "He's here."

     The chauffeur in question had warm brown skin and close-cropped golden corkscrew curls. He didn't seem that old―maybe early thirties.

     "That's James. He's getting his masters in South Asian languages," Adrien said quietly, as they approached the car. "I met him at a party in Bermuda. Offered him a stable job so he could pursue his studies without worrying."

     Bermuda? Once again, Muse was reminded of how rich Adrien was. Of the way she could go anywhere, do anything. And she wasn't just rich. She was a CEO of her own company, a billionaire. It wasn't just excessive, it was outrageous. What could one person possibly do with all that wealth?

      The car ride lasted twenty minutes. Muse leaned her head against the window. Her eyes fluttered briefly. The next thing she knew, the car had slowed to a stop in front of a shiny black building. 

      Maybe Adrien thought she was asleep, because she was arguing quietly with James. 

      "I didn't mean here." 

      "Sorry, I saw her and figured the usual―"

      Adrien glanced back. Muse pretended to still be sleeping.

      "It's fine. It's too late now. Thanks for the ride."

      "Sorry again. You need help getting her out?"