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I might have said the same thing had all the tables been available, but thankfully, it's lunch time, and every seat in this place is occupied.
Camden's eyebrows hike up an inch as one corner of his mouth curls in amusement, like he can’t believe I’d be so naive as to think I can make him leave when he doesn’t want to.
He strolls to the closest table—occupied by four giggling women—pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieve a bunch of bills. "You beautiful ladies wouldn't mind finishing up fast for me, would you?”
The four women stare at him open-mouthed for a good ten seconds, shamelessly gawking though they must be fifteen years older than him at least.
“Of course, hon. You don’t have to pay for our lunch. We have to get back to work anyway.”
Yeah, right. None of them are even halfway done with their meal.
“I insist.”
The charm. The charisma. The flirting.
God, I hate him.
Right now, I despisethemtoo, for fawning over him and giving into his demands.Like, what the fuck? If some stranger showed up and told me to move, I would—
I would do the exact same thing as they did: take the cash and scamper as he requested.Camden looks like a Greek god, shoved at least a hundred bucks at them, and called them beautiful.Of course they’d bow to his will.
I walk away, reining in my frustration.
Camden calls after me, teasing, pushing, challenging. “I wouldn't mind a clean table, Morgan.”
I mutter a curse under my breath. I’m sure he wouldn't.
With a bit of satisfaction, I glance over my shoulder. “You're not in my section. Ralph will take care of you today, sir.”
“You know,” he says as I walk toward the farthest table from him in my section, “I never was into the wholesirthing, but I’m starting to see the appeal.”
God help me.
If I was sure I’d get away with it, I would murder this man.
Ralph rushes to take care of Camden’s table, in all his flamboyance.
I'm glad I'm too busy to pay much attention to him, though his gaze burns my back, demanding I look at him. I resist.
I’m likely paranoid. He can’t be watching me nonstop, but whenever I give in and steal a glance, I catch his golden eyes boring into mine.
I try not to feel too self-conscious, but his scrutiny is getting to me. I shouldn’t give a single fuck what he thinks of me. And Idon’t. I just want him gone.
Ralph has never met a handsome man he didn’t fawn over, and Camden’s no exception. I’m surprised to watch them chat, convivial at first, then bantering like old friends. I didn’t think Camden would bother to play nice with a lowly waiter—at least, not without an agenda. He was just like his friends in that regard back home, ignoring anyone who didn’t have a trust fund. Like me.
Until that night. Now, for some reason, he’s decided I’m worth a look. I really don’t know what to make of it.
Camden orders a burger and a coffee, then another drink, and a third, until rush hour has flown by.
We're still busy afterwards, but I get a moment here and then to breathe for more than five seconds.Ben, our barista, makes me a latte, and I even manage to get a few sips in before it gets cold.
"Are you going to ignore me all day?" Camden asks when I pass in front of him to clear one of my tables.
I don't stop. "Yup."
My break's at four. After begging Ben for another drink, I rush to the staff room to bandage and rub my sore feet.
I've only had a chance to drink half of my triple caramel latte when Camden walks in like he has every right to be in the employees-only section.
