Damon Blackwood. Soon to be CEO of Blackwood Industries. If you asked people to describe him, the first words that come to mind are "stoic" and "mean." But if he wants to inherit his dad's company, he has to prove his maturity. So of course, he lies...
Here's a picture of Olivia as I imagine her. But you can imagine her however you want :)
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I shifted my weight back and forth as I watched the clock impatiently. Thank god my shift was almost over. I smiled politely at the last couple of the night before turning around and rolling my eyes. You'd think working at a fancier restaurant would be easier, but nope. Not only were the people ruder, but the pay was basically the same. People didn't even tip well.
"Olivia, come help clean up back here!" I sighed tiredly. I was already working 14 hour shifts, 7 days a week, but obviously that wasn't enough for Mr. Porter. I grimaced as I turned to face him; whenever we were alone, his hands... wandered a lot and he was constantly leering at me.
Just as I was about to head to the back, the small bell near the door chimed, signalling that someone had entered. Groaning, I turned around to inform them that the restaurant was closed. "Excuse me, but the..." I trailed off as I looked up at the most handsome guy I had ever seen, with dark hair, deep gray eyes, and a chiseled jaw. Next to him was another man just as good looking, but the first one was... breathtaking.
Flustered, I struggled to maintain my professional attitude. "I'm sorry, but we're closed," I informed them, avoiding eye contact. Neither of them looked very happy when they came in and I didn't want to get them any angrier than they already were.
The hot guy glared at me. "What do you mean you're closed?" He demanded. "It's only 9:00, for fuck's sake! Do you know who I am?" I cowered away from him, praying to god Mr. Porter wouldn't fire me like he did the last girl.
"N-n-no," I mumbled quietly, staring down at my feet. Damn, rich people act so entitled.
"Let me speak to your manager!" he yelled. Oh shit, I was so done.
His friend grabbed his shoulder. "Damon, calm down. Don't take your anger out on her, you're scaring her."
He, apparently his name was Damon, pushed his friend's arm away and growled, "Does it look like I give a shit?" But when he looked at me his eyes softened a little and he seemed to calm down.
I sighed a breath of relief, but tensed up again when I saw that Mr. Porter had come out from the back. "Oh, Mr. Blackwood, Mr. Everson, welcome! Is there a problem?" How did he know who they were?
Damon rolled his eyes. "Apparently your restaurant is closed."
Mr. Porter glanced back at me furiously and I shrunk away from his gaze. "No, no, we're open." He glared at me before facing the men. "Our waitress here is a bit incompetent if you'll excuse her. She's new." My mouth dropped open. I'd been working here for months.
He seated them before pulling me to the back. "You will serve them, I don't care if your shift is over. Are you stupid? Do you not know who those men are!" He whispered in my ear, making sure no one could hear.
