The Billionaire's Favorite Waitress

Amara Okafor got ready for her night shift at the hotel where she has been working for the past few months as a waitress. Waiting tables at Eko Heights Hotel was never part of Amara Okafor’s plan for her life. But plans stopped mattering the day her father died. Then worse, her mother fell sick, and her only brother wanted to go to university. Then there was house rent, feeding, and all other bills piling up. She had to take on the financial responsibilities, and since no good job was forthcoming, she had to settle for this. As she put on her uniform and was about to step out of the staff room, her phone rang. She looked at it and saw it was her brother. What could he be calling her for at this time? "Obinna, what is it?" she said into the phone once she picked up. "Sister, Mama is very sick..." he answered with a trembling voice. "She has been coughing seriously, and I don't know what to do." Amara panicked immediately. She knew her mother was sick, but she was hoping, with the medication, her mother would get better and not worse. "Has she taken her medication?" She asked quickly. "Yes, but the coughing just keeps getting worse." Obinna answered, "I'm scared, sister." "Obinna, listen to me..." Amara began, but before she could continue, the angry gaze from her manager made her shut up immediately. "Amara, it's like you don't want this job anymore?" her manager said. Amara quickly ended the call, "I'm sorry, ma'am. I was just attending to some family issues." "And who will be attending to our customers?" the manager retorted. "I'm sorry ma'am," Amara replied, "I'll be on my way." "You've already spent twenty minutes away from duty, and I'll make sure it's deducted from your salary." Amara frowned, but as she stepped out of the staff room, her manager called her back. "Hand me your phone," she ordered, "We have a full house tonight, and I don't need anything distracting you." Amara reluctantly gives her the phone. Amara stepped into the lounge, and instantly inhaled the smell of alcohol and smoke. Crystal chandeliers glowed above the crowded lounge while soft Afrobeats pulsed through hidden speakers. This was a hotel for the big men of Lagos. Life really was not balanced. Here she was worried about her mother's health and other unpaid bills, but the people around her were drinking very expensive drinks that could pay her rent and buy her mother's medication for a whole year. Shoving her thoughts aside, Amara got to work and started serving tables alongside her other co-waitresses. At a corner in the lounge, sat a group of friends, and from the way they were dressed you could tell they were wealthy. "Guy, your single days are numbered," one of them said to a handsome-looking man, six-foot-two inches tall, and the only son and heir to the Lawson empire. "I dread it so much," Jide Lawson replied, "I haven't enjoyed myself to my fill." "Who says you can't even after tying the knot," another friend of his cut in. "You're a Nigerian man, we're polygamous in nature," another one said, and they all laughed. "Lara Benson is not a woman to joke with though," Jide cuts in, "She's from a reputable family, I can't do anything to ruin our union. My parents will have my head if I do." His friends laughed again. "Well, enjoy yourself now, Jide," another of his friends chipped in, "because in a few months time you may not have the opportunity to." Jide smiled, but his eyes were elsewhere. It followed a beautiful waitress briefly as she moved between tables effortlessly, her expression calm despite the chaos around her. "Talking about enjoying yourself now," his friend's voice forced his attention back to the table, "Look at that fine waitress over there, she has got some assets." They all looked and admired her lustfully. Jide shook his head, "Don't you have class? She is a waitress, find someone else worthy of my attention." "But we can still have fun," his friend cajoled, and then waved the waitress to come over to their table. "Ten thousand dollars if you get her to sleep in your bed tonight," his friend whispered as the waitress approached them. Jude smirked, "Make it higher, and I might just agree." "Fine, twenty." "Game on..." Jide replied. And all his friends hailed him. Amara approached their table, hoping to get their order, but instead she got a smack on her buttocks. "Fine ass you've got there, wanna find out how much I can pay for it?" Jide said with a corny smile, and all his friends joined him laughing. "Are you drunk? How dare you?" They all froze and looked at her. "Do you know who you're speaking to?" "I don't care who you are, that doesn't give you the right to touch me." "I'm Jide Lawson the only son of Chief Adebayo Lawson, and I could make you lose your job right now." "Wow, you had to even call your father's name to sound relevant." His friends laughed at Jide for the jab she gave him. "Now, listen to me, Mr. Lawson," Amara said to him with a straight face, "The only thing you obviously have more than me is money, nothing else. So respect yourself and don't try this nonsense with me again." Jide's jaw tightened in humiliation. Who was this lady that wasn't even threatened by the mention of his name? "You just lost out on making good money for yourself tonight." "I pride myself on hustling and making my own money," Amara replied, "Can you say the same? Have you worked a day in your life? Or do you just make mouth off what your father labored on for years?" For the first time in years, Jide Lawson had no comeback. And strangely, he wanted to hear her speak again. "I guessed as much," Amara said, and strutted away. "Woah, that chick burned you..." one of his friends said, and the others laughed with him. "Shut up you guys!" Jide shouts angrily at them, "You all caused this..." "Calm down, Jide. You can't win them all." "I believe you owe me twenty thousand dollars," another said, grinning from ear to ear. Jide exhaled deeply, "Fine, I will send the money." They all laughed at him again.