Page 11 of Sweet Surrender
He made a good point. I hadn’t been out in over three months sincemoving to Brownsville and getting this job. Before that, I’d been too focused on getting caught up on my education to go out.
The few times I did venture out was with Liam, and we usually endedup in a casino which was hardly my idea of fun.
“Sav, everything okay?” Harry’s voice called out before I could say noto Trent yet again.
My head snapped to where Harry was watching from the other side ofthe diner. He knew Trent was a little pushy, and he always said that if Trent got too much to let him know, but so far, I’d managed to handle him myself.
“All good, Harry.”
“Good. There are customers waiting,” Harry said before turning back tothe till. It was only then I realized several customers were waiting at the counter. The lunchtime rush had begun.
“I best get back to work,” I mumbled to Trent, grateful for the excuseto stop talking to him.
“Let me know about Friday,” he called as I headed to serve the firstcustomer, ignoring the fact I’d already told him I wasn’t interested.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Shortly after I’d startedserving the lunch customers, Nash left, but I didn’t see him go. I cleared his coffee cup away, shocked to find that not only had he left money for the coffee, but he’d also left me a $100 tip, and a note to say he’d deal with my car.
I wished he’d left his number so I could thank him, and a little part ofme hoped Brian would appear after I’d finished so I could ask him for Nash’s number.
As my shift drew to an end, and I wiped down the last table in myarea, Michelle came over to refill the ketchup bottle. When she kept looking at me with a conspiratorial look on her face, I couldn’t stop the question from bursting free.
“What’s up?”
“You know Nash Carson?” she said with awe in her voice. Thequestion took me back.
How didsheknow who Nash was?
“I wouldn’t say I know him as such. I accidentally crashed into his caryesterday and he helped me get it towed away. He only came in to tell me there was no hope for it.”
Her brows rose before she let out an undignified snort.
“You crashed into Nash Carson?” she repeated, sounding very muchas if she thought I was making it up.
“Yeah. Wait, how do you know who he is?” I said, now distracted fromwiping thetable.
“Erm, hello! Are you telling me you don’t know who he is?” shereplied in bewilderment.
I shook my head, my brows furrowing in frustration at her lack ofinformation.
“He’s Nash Carson of Carson-Fox Resorts!” she continued as if thatshould mean something to me. She sighed at my lack of response, rolling her eyes before continuing. “He and his business partner own like a gazillion hotels and casinos around the world. He’s the epitome of eligible billionaire bachelor.”
Stunned into silence, I gaped at Michelle as an image of Nash,wearing his expensive suit and stepping out of his sleek car popped into my head. It certainly explained why he wasn’t bothered about covering the cost of my tow.
When I still didn’t respond, Michelle pulled her phone from her pocketand tapped on the screen before shoving it under my nose.
Holy shit.
I snatched the phone from her hand and scrolled through the images.Picture after picture showed Nash at VIP events, Nash with stunning models who had fake boobs and tiny waists, Nash opening a new casino, and finally, the headlines declaring Nash and his business partner, Fox, to be in the top ten onForbes Rich List.
I guess that was why he looked familiar, I’d probably seen himsomewhere on tv or in a magazine.
Embarrassment curled through me. There he was, billionairebachelor who could get any woman on the planet, and there I was, a waitress at a diner, earning minimum wage, and covered in bean juice when we first met.
Which begged the question, why the hell would he want to havedinner with me?
Right then, I was damn glad I’d turned him down. There was no wayI’d have managed to get through a dinner with someone like Nash without making the biggest fool of myself.
“Sav,” Harry called, poking his head out of his office which was off toone side of the counter. “Can I have a word?”
