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Chapter One
Rachel Knight would give anything to be back in Paris at that very moment, sashaying down the catwalk in a pair of glittering diamond heels and a crimson silk dress, but fate had other plans for the wannabe model. She tied her apron strings around her waist and glanced warily into the dining room, where she was expected to start her next waitressing shift in less than a minute.
“Watch out, girl,” a fellow waitress whispered to her as she entered the kitchen, carrying a tray full of dirty dishes. “He’s in a mood today.”
Rachel made a face and ducked when the cause of her apprehension came into view. Tony Moon was tall, thick around the waist, and loved to flash his extra-white veneers at the waitresses. He had a head full of straight black hair and thick eyebrows to match. He thought he was heaven’s gift to women.
The women knew otherwise.
“All right, Rachel,” she muttered to herself, pulling her sleek chestnut hair off her slender neck and into a low ponytail. She’d been dumped back into her home town of San Jose, California, with nothing but an empty bank account to keep her company. Pep talks to herself were common nowadays. “You can do this. Just until you finish school.”
Not even her optimistic nature could wipe the disgust off her face when Tony came through the door, pinning her with a leer.
“You’re late,” he said, his lecherous gaze roving slowly over the curves of her slender body.
“Not yet.” Rachel looked down at her nickel-plated wristwatch. “My shift doesn’t start until five...four...three...two...one. Now, I’m on the clock.”
Tony wrinkled his long nose and then held the door open for her. “After you.”
She resisted the urge to shudder as she brushed past him. It had only been a month since she’d taken the waitressing job at La Fete and already she was regretting it. But rent had to be paid and as of today, her skill set only included posing in expensive clothing and bussing tables.
Since she couldn’t seem to burst onto the modeling scene, waitressing would have to do until she got her associates degree at the local community college. The alternative was to go to family for money, but the idea was more revolting than Tony Moon’s advances.
Rachel Knight would make it on her own. Money certainly wasn’t everything in this world and she was out to prove it. Especially to her father.
“We’ve got a special reservation coming in at four,” Tony said, following her into the dining room. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a fake pair of potted ferns. “I have it on good authority that it’s two baseball players for the LA Suns. Sit them at your table. I don’t want any of them walking away unhappy. If news gets out about them dining at La Fete, this could really put us on the map. I need you to do what you do best.”
Rachel’s lips curled into an overenthusiastic smile as she looked up at him. “Which is, provide great customer service?”
“Yeah.” He trailed his hand up her arm and played with the cuff of her sleeve. “Among other things.”
She shivered with disgust and turned toward the door. At that moment, two tall men in their early thirties came strolling through the entrance. It was easy to tell these were the athletes Tony had been spouting about.
Both of them had been blessed with broad shoulders, thick arms, and tapered V-shaped waists. Although they wore simple outfits consisting of t-shirts and jeans, Rachel could recognize expensive brand-names when she saw them. Even their exclusive Nike tennis shoes had to be worth more than the average person’s car. They looked like the kind of guys who left generous tips. She could only hope.
Rachel jumped toward them, picking up two heavy hard-backed menus. “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she said with a sweet smile. “Care to follow me? I’ve got our best table ready for you.”
They nodded and followed her to a small, round table set into a window alcove at the back. Soft sunlight streamed through the window and lit up the table with a golden shimmer. She handed each man a menu after they had chosen a seat.
“My name is Rachel and I’ll be your waitress this afternoon. May I ask what brought you to our tiny little corner of the world today?”
The guys laughed as if they shared a private joke, and then grinned up at her.
“The L-train here is moving up in the world,” said the man on her left. His orange-red hair was cropped close to his head and a spattering of freckles had sprouted across his nose. He picked up a sugar packet from the table and tossed it at his friend. “We’re here to check out the finer side of dining, since fast food is no longer good enough for his billions of dollars. What do you say, beautiful? Shouldn’t a guy stick to what he knows?”
