EroticReverie

Maven Rose

"Hey" I say calling after the man that just left me double the bill on his check. 

"Hey! Excuse me!" I call after him, my heels clicking along the pavement as him and the other suits with him walk along the side walk. One of the men with him turn their head and see me, chasing them down waving the check in the air. 

I watch the man who turned say something to the man who had given me his card. 

Now, I knew some suits could tip extremely well, but this. This had to have been a mistake and I wouldn't get fired over some man who wasn't paying attention to when he filled out the tip section. Was he drunk? He didn't even drink any of the alcohol I'd served the table. 

He turns slowly watching me as I slow from a light jog in my heels, to a steady walk, slightly panting from booking it through the restaurant and down the sidewalk. 

He says something to the men with him and then they all keep walking.

"There's....there's a mistake" I pant, slowing down even more when I come closer. My eyes rising, not even realizing until just how tall this man was. He'd been sitting down the entire time. Now he was standing tall, sliding his hands into the pockets of perfectly and probably very expensively tailored suit pants. 

"Is there?" he asks and I nod, still attempting to catch my breath. He was even more attractive now than he was sitting at the table. Those sky blue eyes, and his dark hair, perfectly groomed, his five o clock shadow showing through his lightly bronzed skin. Was that due to his ethnicity, or had he recently spent time in the sun somewhere?  My eye flick to the barely there scar on his pronounced cheekbone. Then back to his eyes. That were about a foot above me right now. 

"Yeah." I say. I hold up the check book , flipping it open with my thumb. 

"The tip...it's...it's too much." I say and take a deep breath and watch him tilt his head ever so slightly and cock his brow. 

"Too..much?" he asks as if he's uncertain of what I've just said. 

"Yes." I say. "You...I don't know...it doesn't make sense...it's more than the bill." I say as he studies my face and I stand there, my hand outstretched. 

"mm." He makes a soft hum. "And, is that...against dining rules? Leaving a tip that is more than the bill?" 

I blink a few times and shake my head. 

"Well....no...it's not....but...it's...." I pause and just look at him a small flicker of an amused smile on his lips. 

I drop my hand. 

"You can't honestly have meant to leave me double the bill when the bill itself was that high." I say. 

"I can honestly say..." he says and takes a half step closer and brings his tall frame closer, smiling ever so slightly down at me, half smile, half smirk, and a hundred percent insanely sexy. 

"That the tip I left on my check, is intentional, and no mistake." He says. 

"What? Why?" I say shaking my head. It was NOT good ettiquette to question any tip, it was just something as a server you never did. 

"Because the service was good." he says with a soft shrug and then reaches out, taking the check book from my hand and then opens it. 

"Oh....I see." he says and clicks his tongue. "You're right." 

I exhale a breath, suddenly feeling less awkward, and thankful that I caught his mistake. 

"Here...let me fix it." he says and then pulls out a gold plated pen from the inside of his jacket.

"Is it okay to use the customer copy for the adjustment?" he asks and I nod. 

"Yeah of course, that's fine." I say as I stand there in my tight black dress, my cleavage being kissed by the cool breeze, and my bare thighs shaking slightly  as my dress that just covers all the goods, does nothing to stop the breeze. 

"Here, that should do it." He says, tucking his pen back into his jacket and then closing the checkbook.

"thank you." I say and he gives me a bit more of a smile and smirk this time. 

"No problem. Have a good night Maven." he says. Normally I hate when customers use my name when speaking to me, as if it's some kind of customer inside joke to call you by your name like they're your best friend. But when he says it, there's a low purr to it that sends shivers down the back of my neck and spine.

"You too." I say with a nod, turning and walking back to the restaurant at a slow pace and a sigh of relief. Even though I should wait till I'm inside to look at what my tip actually is, I flip it open, my eyes skimming down and I stop, my heels skidding slightly as I come to a halt. 

I whip my head over my shoulder. He's still standing there, both hands back in his pockets. 

"Is this a joke?" I ask. Turning and holding the book in the air. I was just getting angry now. I try to do the right thing, and this fancy motherfucker wanted to play games with me while I had other tables waiting for me inside. 

"No it's a check book." he says and I grit my teeth. 

I stomp back over with my heels slapping against the pavement, trying to sound as tough as I can with my small strides.

"Listen...I don't know what game you're playing here but ..I've had a long day...if you want to stiff me on a tip then just say that!" I say pointing a finger into his chest. 

He's looking at my finger poking into his fancy fucking suit tie. 

"Do you normally assault customers that tip you well?" He asks. I slap the book at his chest.

"Nobody tips this much! Nobody! You're fucking with me! And I dont appreciate it, because like I said, it's been a long fucking day, and I don't...I dont have time to chase down assholes on the sidewalk to play his little rich man games. Do you just enjoy fucking with waitresses? Because you know our apartments cost as much as one of your fancy fucking suits?" I say angrily. His brows lift and he fucking laughs. 

"It's not funny! You're a real fucking jerk for dicking me around!" I say poking his chest even further. 

"So take your fancy fucking suit, and your fancy fucking pen and get out of my face!" I say, sounding like a child, but I don't care. I'd spent close to THREE hours waiting on that table, three fucking hours, and I was going to go home with no god damn tip, and possibly lose my job if someone comes out and finds me having a tantrum in front of the restaurant. My boss liked me, but I dont think he liked me that much to not fire me before the owner found out he let the tiny new waitress assault a grown man. 

"Do you talk to all the customers this way?" he muses , his lips smirking still and I narrow my eyes.

"JUST YOU" I bite out. I don't even know why I was still standing there. Why I was still facing off with this rich man bitch that apparently got off on yanking chains of waitresses just trying to fucking pay their bills. 

"Well, that's good to hear." he says and then reaches up, closes his hand around my finger that's still pressed into his chest and lowers it. 

He sighs and shakes his head and I step back as he reaches inside the other side of suit pocket and pulls out a wad of crisp cash. A thick wad of crisp cash. I watch him drag his thumb over his tongue and then look down at his hand as he flicks through fiftites, twenties, and hundreds. 

"I'm guessing the only way you'll believe me is if I give you your tip in cash?" He asks, peeking to me as I stand there my mouth open and speechless.

"You know what." he says, folding the cash back in half and holds it out. My brows pinch and I look at the fat wad of money in front of my face. I blink and look at him. 

"Here. Take it." he says, and I narrow my eyes. As soon as I reached for that money, he'd yank it away and laugh. I knew it. I wouldn't be made to look like a fucking fool. 

"Bastard." I mutter and turn on my heels, gritting my teeth hard as he laughs. 

"What are you doing? Take your money Maven." He calls after me. 

"Screw you! And don't call me that!" I yell back over my shoulder, storming away, as the wind whips my hair that I'll now have to adjust in the mirror before returning to my waiting customers. 

"Isn't that your name?" He yells down the sidewalk. 

I get to the door. 

"Fuck you." I say and throw him the finger and yank open the front door and go inside. 

I take three minutes in the restroom to calm my racing heart, the anger pumping through my veins as I finger comb my hair. 

I take a deep breath. Then another. Then I forget about the rich fuck and his stupid bullshit, and continue my shift, hoping to god, he doesn't report to me the manager on duty, or my boss, and hoping nobody at all saw me confront him and finger stab him in his chest. 

At the end of the night, I tip out the bartenders, the bus boys, and the hostess. Even without any tip from rich fuck's table I still made out alright. But would have made out better had I not wasted half of my shift on that table. I bet they were all having a real good fucking laugh right now about the blonde and rose hair colored waitress with the big tits that they stiffed. 

I go to the back, and grab my purse, change out of my heels , throwing them in the locker I'd been assigned and shoving on my beaten up white sneakers and groan at the heaven and comfort of normal fucking footwear. Those heels were torture, but fucking mandatory as part of the uniform. I put my small apron into the locker, close it and slam the lock shut. 

"Maven?" Ross my boss calls as I move towards the back exit. I turn. 

"Yeah?" I turn. 

"Come to my office please?" he asks. My heart immediately turns into a fucking horse, galloping in my chest. Shit. Fucking shit. 

"Uh huh." I say and turn and walk across the back and towards his office. 

Ross is already in his chair behind his desk, and when I walk in, pulling the door shut behind me. 

"What's up?" I ask as I look at Ross, then look to the side, finding HIM sitting in a chair. That son of a .... It was the god damn rich fuck. HE CAME TO RAT ME OUT IN PERSON?!

"Listen Ross...I can explain." I say , steppping forward. 

Ross's brows pull inward.

"Explain?" he asks. 

"Yeah....I ...please don't fire me....I was having a bad night...It won't happen again." I say, almost feeling tears well in my eyes. I needed this fucking job. It was the only job I could get that if I kept working, I'd be able to catch up on my back rent and other bills. 

"Maven...what are you....what are you talking about?" Ross cocks his head and then looks nervously to the man and then back at me. 

"Did....did something happen on the floor that I should know about?" Ross asks. 

"He.." I say, gesturing to the guy, who stands up at that moment and reaches out his hand. 

"Hi Maven, I'm Tobias..Thorn." he says and I look at his hand and then back up at him a scowl on my face. Thorn. Thorn. 

"No you're not." I say. That small fucking smile and smirk reappear. 

"Maven...this is Tobias Thorn." Ross says. "The owner." 

Fuck. No. No. No. No. No. I shake my head slightly. Still just staring at his out stretched hand. 

"Maven?" Ross says, as if he's nervous at the fact I'm not shaking the owners hand.

The owner. I....oh my god. I called him an asshole. I called him a bastard. I'd...I'd yelled at him, like YELLED at him. 

"Maven..." Ross says, and I just blink at Tobias.

"Huh?" I turn my head to Ross. 

"You waited on him earlier...." Ross says. 

"Yeah." I say and look back to Tobias.

"He said he forgot to leave a tip....also said you were one of the best servers he's had when visiting. He wanted to personally apologize Maven. Shake his hand." Ross says, his voice pleading as if I'm embarrassing him. Im sure I am. But not even close to how I've now embarrassed myself. 

I reach out my hand and Tobias smiles, taking my hand. 

"Strong handshake. Strong fingers." Tobias says and then places his hand over his tie. I flinch. 

"umm." I stand there, unsure if I'm still angry, scared, or just confused. 

Ross sighs as his phone sends him an alert. 

"I need to take this. Mister Thorn is it okay if I..." Ross gestures to the door as Tobias still holds my hand. Tobias nods to him. 

"Of course. Take your time." he says to Ross who leaves the office, closing the door behind him. I watch him go then look back at my hand still in Tobias's grip. 

I snatch it away.

"Are you having me fired?" I ask, unable to hide my anger. Cause I'd decided, I was infact still angry. How dare he. He couldve mentioned the fact he was the fucking owner over dozens of restaurants. 

He laughs. "It would be a fitting punishment for assaulting a customer, would it not?" he asks and slips his hands into his pockets once again. 

"I didnt assault you." I reply bitterly. 

"And you're not a REAL customer." I bite out. 

His brows pop. "I'm not?" 

"No. You're the owner. Which you FAILED to mention AT ALL during the time I served you or the time I.."

"The time you assualted me?" he asks, cocking his head. My nostrils flare. 

I cross my arms. "Fine." 

"Fine then. Should I go get my things from my locker? Do I give them to Ross or directly to you?" I say, shaking hard with anger. 

He shakes his head and steps forward and I scowl up at him, feeling even smaller now that I was out of those ridiculous heels. 

"I'm not having you fired." he says. My brows pinch even harder. 

"Why not?" I ask. 

He laughs. 

"A man tips you generously...you fight him on that. He lets you keep your job after being...might I say, extremely unprofessional and extremely rude to a customer." he says.

"You are NOT a customer, and...and "

"and you are just not going to admit you were wrong, are you?" He smirks. 

"Why would you let me keep my job after that?" I ask.

"because....like I told Ross, you ARE one of the better waitresses I've had when visiting my restaurants." He says. 

"And....because of you...me and my guests had a lovely dinner.." he says and takes another step closer and is standing right in front of me, almost touching our fronts to one another.

"And because I'd like to take YOU to dinner sometime."