Beverly had just seated a lone gentleman at a recently vacated table, and after a quick goodbye to the Hungarian couple, Tasha headed his way.
She stopped at his table and offered him her standard greeting of, “Good morning.” She shot him a smile before offering, “Can I get you started with something to drink?”
“I’d love a cup of coffee,” he said with a British accent.
“Sure thing. I’ll just grab that for you while you look over the menu.”
“Thanks, love,” his voice followed her as she turned away.
Oh, great. Another guy who thinks he’s Don Juan. Tasha chuckled as she headed for the coffee.
After delivering the orders to tables fourteen and fifteen, she grabbed the coffeepot and headed back to Don Juan.
He flipped over the upside-down cup with a smile, and Tasha began pouring the elixir into the mug. “Decided what you want yet?” she asked, watching the coffee as she poured.
“I think I’ll try the Electric Bash.” He pointed to the menu.
“How do you like your eggs?” She set the coffeepot on the table.
“Over easy.”
“Link or patty?” she asked of the sausage.
“Patty.”
“Toast, bagel, or English muffin?” She looked at him. He was eying her closely. He was probably figuring the odds of her remembering his order since she wasn’t writing it down. But no worries, Tasha could do this stuff in her sleep.
“Toast.” He nodded.
“Anything else?”
“I think that’ll do it.”
“Cool. I’ll get that order in and it’ll be out in a jiff.”
She turned away, and heard him say, “Thanks, love.” Luckily, sweet talk seemed to be the extent of his flirting.
Tasha went about her business, handing out checks, delivering dishes of food, refilling beverages and taking more orders—all while that heaviness in her gut grew.
But she trudged on, making her rounds until she was back at Don Juan’s table. She gestured the coffeepot in his direction and he nodded.
“I keep thinking,” he said, as she poured, “that I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“You been in here before?” She chuckled.
“No. First time.”
“Well, you know what they say,” she said, after she filled his cup. “Everybody has a twin somewhere.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess that’s it.”
Tasha strode away, wishing she felt better. Maybe what she needed was some rest. That’s it, as soon as her shift was over, she was heading home for a date with her pillow.
A few minutes later, she delivered Don Juan’s Electric Bash, complete with eggs over easy, sausage patty and toast.
He examined his breakfast and then looked up at her with a satisfied smile. “Thanks.”
“Can I bring you anything else?”
“No. I think I have everything I need.” He picked up his napkin and spread it over his lap. “You know…” He picked up his fork with one hand and pointed the finger on his other at Tasha. “I think I have it.”
“Have it?”
“I’ve seen your picture in the papers.” He nodded. “With that rich guy. Laurent or something or other.”
“Guilty as charged.” No use denying it. She’d tried that angle, and it’d gotten her nowhere. Tasha sucked in a big gulp of air. Undoubtedly, this meant little or no tip.
That heavy feeling in her gut moved up into her throat.
“Must be nice, jet-setting around with all that money.” His words could’ve been construed as umbrage, but the casual tone of his voice and the chuckle that followed suggested otherwise.
“Well, my jet-setting consisted of a ride to a wedding. Not mine. My college roommate’s.” Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. Tasha and Camille hadn’t been college roommates. Tasha hadn’t gone to Stanford, or any other university for that matter. Even so, she had to distance herself from the de Laurents as much as possible when she was at work.
“Ah, but you got to live it for a day or two, right?”
“That’s about the size of it.” She shrugged and then shook her head. “Definitely didn’t make me rich by association.” She glanced around the restaurant. “Hence my working in this fine establishment.”
“Don’t fret it, love.” He jabbed his fork into the eggs. “Those of us who have to work for our money appreciate it more.”
“Yeah.” She snorted a laugh. “You enjoy your meal.”
Tasha walked away feeling confident in her ability as an actress. Hell, she’d just convinced a perfect stranger that she had no other ties to the de Laurents than hitching a ride to an old friend’s wedding.
And here at work, unless she wanted to jeopardize her finances, she’d keep up that charade. Nobody liked tipping the rich.
Half an hour later, Don Juan was gone but Tasha wasn’t expecting much of a tip because he’d recognized her from the papers. She hoped she’d put in enough of a performance that he’d left her a little something.
Anticipation swirled inside Tasha as she strolled toward his table. A pile of ones had been propped against his coffee cup. Tasha scooped them up and gave them a quick count before stuffing them inside her apron pocket.
Imagine that. A five-dollar tip for a fifteen-dollar breakfast. Very generous, considering that most people who recognized her as the recent companion of Andre de Laurent left her little to no tip, thinking she had access to enough money and didn’t need any of theirs.
Nice to see there was still some good in the world. It made Tasha almost forget about the off-kilter feeling that’d taken up residence and left her feeling a bit tired and just plain old yucky these days.
CHAPTER FOUR
FATE HAD DEALT ANDRE DE LAURENT a lousy hand; he’d been born second. He didn’t mind though—most of the time.
Andre had been conditioned from birth to accept the fact that his older brother Julian was and always would be in control of de Laurent Enterprises. But that didn’t bother Andre. In fact, he liked it that way. Julian had all the responsibility and Andre would still inherit more money than he would ever spend in his lifetime.
So everything should’ve been satisfactory, right? It was, right up until that day, two weeks ago, when they learned of Edouard Renault’s death.
Clearly, the siblings would inherit their granduncle’s estate, and Julian would once again come out on top. Andre had never felt envious toward his brother until faced with the prospect of Julian inheriting another conglomerate. That was enough to turn a small corner of his heart envious.