Chapter 1: Introduction
Amy Johnson had heart eyes for all things green. Literally. And primo, legit-fresh big salads were her top love—aside from the prospect of earning some extra bucks for college.
She flipped through her waitressing notebook, rattling off the day's to-do list to herself.
Setting up the outdoor dining section, stocking up on fresh coriander, and checking in on the kitchen staff were as routine as breathing to her. Every minute counted during the summer rush, especially for a school-focused lady like Amy.
Then she felt it—a shiver down her spine. A shiver she couldn't quite explain. Turning around, she locked eyes with a handsome stranger at a private table, handsomely clad in business casual.
Soft lighting gave his short black hair and deep gray eyes a mysterious aura, but she quickly shook the sensual thought away.
"Um Sportivo, congratulations! Get your feet out the kitchen and into a proper suit, huh?" Cristina, another waitress, teased, snapping Amy out of her reverie.
"Yeah, yeah, someday," Amy chirped, hiding her scarlet crimson flush. She busied herself with a carafe of water and a Parisian baguette.
Maybe he hadn't noticed her? thought Amy. But she could sense his gaze follow her every move.
The rest of her shift went by uneventfully, but the table remained on her mind. When she finally bussed the mysterious guest's empty dishes, she didn't have the nerve to ask about the bill, so she hightailed it back to the kitchen.
"What happened, Amy?" Cristina laughed, sensing Amy's strange fidgeting.
"That guy!" Amy replied. "I couldn't!"
A chuckle came from behind them, making Amy spin around.
And there he was, that tall, dark, and mysterious stranger, folding a thick wad of cash into her manager’s hand.
"Take good care of your staff. Especially those showing signs of hard work and ambition," he said coolly, extending his hand toward Amy to shake.
"And this is yours, for making my lunch here today."
That same shiver ran down her spine upon touching his hand. His generous compensation sat in the form of crisp, white, hundred-dollar bills.
Amy caught a glimpse of Cristina's envious stare the moment their eyes met.
"Follow me," Amy said nervously, entranced and bewildered all at once.
She led him up to the hotel's extravagant penthouse floor and stopped in front of a luxurious room adorned with modern artwork and soft lighting.
If Amy had butterflies earlier, they turned into flocks of birds, turning somersaults in her stomach.