Chapter 17: Working Girls

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Stacy

Snack Attack is owned by Bob Mejia, 28, and Filipino, built his own name from scratch.

At 21, he earned his degree in Finance and Economics. For two years he was a kitchen bust boy and waited tables until his boss, who had no children, chose him as the successor of his Asian-themed restaurant. By the time Bob was 27, that one restaurant had flourished into a worldwide chain of successful food businesses, spread throughout 45 countries, most of which are being managed by his four loyal and trustworthy friends.

His wife had passed away in a car accident three years ago, just a few months after they got married.

It may have been a bit intrusive to Google his profile yesterday but if it's on the internet, then it's totally legal to appraise my current boss.

"You ready, Ace?"

My sky blue eyes flew on Sophia's twinkling brown ones. We're both wearing the same uniform of teal polo shirt, black slacks, and tennis white shoes with ocean-blue shoelaces. Our name plates were pinned on the right breast pocket of our teal polo, the bright shade of azure matching our visor hats which say "S.A." on them. Our shirts had "Snack Attack" emblazoned on their backs, and we wore our long hair up in high ponytails, providing a perky, approachable look.

"I'm always ready," I replied cheekily, securing my visor firmly on my blonde head.

The wall-clock read 10:15. Fifteen more minutes before the diner opens,and already there were flocks of kids, adults, teenagers, and elderly citizens were hovering outside the vast glass doors.

And why shouldn't they? Not only was Snack Attack having its opening day today, but the diner was a devastating combination of modern and comfortable, with pale blue walls and ceilings, the upper halves of the three walls lined with literal aquariums containing live, exotic fish. The floor was decorated with tiles that gave off the illusion of beach sand, complete with washed up starfish designs and seashells and beguiling footprints. Trendy music played from the amps installed in every corner of the ceiling while round white tables with wooden stools were scattered throughout the well-ventilated beach-like diner.

I could see my brunette sister checking the crowd outside, obviously looking for Lucas.

"Sop?" I called, folding my arms over my impressive chest.

The bespectacled waitress stiffened. She shot me a little smile. "He's busy with schoolwork," she said in a normal voice. "But he promised he'll try to drop by later."

As much as I wanted to needle her about her boyfriend's absence, I needed to focus on my job.

Two teenagers dressed in teal polo shirts, black slacks, and teal visors walked through the door.

"You?!" Sophia blurted out when she spotted the tall male with neat black hair and gray eyes.

"Well, if it isn't the melodramatic bookworm." He grinned and moved closer to my sister, his lips whispering into her ear: "I almost didn't recognize you. I think I prefer the way you looked in the library, wild-hair and lazy eyes, as if you just woke up in bed. I found it sexy."

I inserted myself between the creep and Sophia. I hissed at him: "Whoever you are, keep your distance."

The male newcomer raised his palms in mock surrender. "Need I remind you to maintain a warm and friendly atmosphere?" he taunted, his gray eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Oh yes." Like hell I would shrink down. "Let us ALL bare in mind that friendly is different from flirting and my sister wouldn't waste her precious time on you so just back off."

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