Crash (A Billionaire Contract Romance)

Arrogance Meets Karma

Tara keeps informing me that I'm too pale and don't get out enough, so she insists that's after work today were going to the beach. I've never seen the ocean, so of course, I'm looking forward to sticking my feet in for the first time. Only I have to get through this day from hell first.

It's only Thursday, meaning I still have to work tomorrow, and it's been five very long days since last Friday’s bar incident. Tara was "mad" at me for a day because I didn't let her dig her claws into that "disgusting w***e" as she likes to call her. I was surprised she even remembered the incident. But she was quick to see things my way and admit that it was better that we didn't get into a catfight even if she insist, we would have won.

Now we're both pissed off for a whole different reason, these stuck-up, arrogant one-percenters. They have been curler than usual this week and haven't been leaving good tips. Our hostess will seat them and before she can even hand them the menus something ugly is pouring out of their mouths.

By the time I make my way over to their tables they have already begun to talk about the latest fashion, gossip, or politics. When I ask for their drinks they look at me like I'm the devil for interrupting their conversations, even though I've already been standing at their table for three minutes patiently waiting for them to look up and realize I'm there.

When I get back and ask for their orders they aren't ready seeing how they haven't had a chance to stop talking for five minutes and pick up a menu so I move on and wait for them to make their selection. Only apparently, I'm not fast enough for them because they have to stop the busboy or another waitress and tell them they're ready to order. Me being me I put a smile on and take their order acting like they are the most important people in the whole world, granite some of them actually are.

It's late in the afternoon going on three, only an hour left thank god! When four beautifully snobby brats walk through the door. Tara's sitting next to me helping fold napkins when she sees and lets out a defeated-sounding sigh. "I swear if I get stuck with that table I'm going to end up dumping Merlot all over those bitches."

"Ugh, really they're that bad?" I ask looking back at them and rolling my eyes when I see the hostess seat them in my section.

"They come in here a lot, I'm surprised they haven't been in sooner but they'll give you nothing but problems and then leave you a ten percent tip. The blonde that looks like a Barbie is Lauren, Senator Amatranio's daughter. She thinks she can do just about anything and get away with it. In all reality, she can.

“A couple of months ago I heard Mrs. Winchester talking. Senator Amatranio is up for re-election next year, so they were throwing a campaign party. A huge event, everyone comes. Politicians, donors, lobbyists, they come from all over to show support and all that.

“Well according to Mrs. Winchester Lauren was having an affair with Congressmen Flynn. He has a wife and two kids, all of whom were at the party. Mrs. Winchester’s great-niece caught them in some closet doing the dirty, with his wife in the next room.” Eww, how disrespectful, and self-degrading. She is beautiful, as in model-worthy, long blonde hair, long legs, a zero size waist.

She’s got high maintenance written all over her. I’m sure she has men throwing themselves at her feet all day long, why does she need to sleep with a married man, while his family is a few feet away? It’s beyond me. If I had her looks, her position in the world, in society, god the things I could do. I guess you can’t really understand that sort of thing unless you experience it personally. At the very least these people in this room should use their privilege to educate themselves in what the majority of the world suffers.

If I grew up having everything handed to me, would I be different, absolutely? Would I think that everything is just given to you, that nothing requires hard work to achieve your goal? I couldn’t say.

I know I grew up with absent, sometimes abusive parents. I had noodles and butter with some garlic salt for flavor more nights than I care to admit. School lunches were free, during the summer I went to Caz Park, played on the sprinkler pad, and ate the free peanut butter and jelly sandwiches they passed out. Or I found myself at Grandma's kitchen counter. I had clothes from goodwill, I was always smaller, never had any fat on my body and I wasn’t very tall.

My friends at school were taller than me and most had more fluff on them. I grew really close with this one girl Mia, she was the same age in my class but she was bigger than me, and when she would grow out of her clothes they boxed them up and sent them over to my house.

Tara’s voice is low, yet excited, she loves telling me the latest scandals. Mostly I think she likes knowing that they may try and act like they are better than all of us. Like they are somehow above it all, but they still have their faults, their downfalls.

She continues scooting her chair closer to mine, we’ve both long forgotten that we’re supposed to be folding napkins and sorting silverware. “Plus I know Daddy, got her out of a DUI, where she crashed her car into the side of the building! She caused so much damage and there wasn’t even a story about it in the paper

“Then there is the dark brown-haired girl that actually looks like she eats something other than rabbit food she is Krista, the nicest of the bunch. And the other two are like Lauren's minions, Stacey and Clare. They will do anything that Lauren tells them to.

“They all come from families with old money. It’s been invested in great companies that just continually pull in more money than they will ever need. No one really talks about them, they are kind of always just in Laurens shadow." That has to suck, always being outshone by Lauren.

“Aria, you have a table of six at 7B.” Kay our hostess tells me even she has a grimace on her usually cheery face. She slaps me on the shoulder trying to give me some encouragement but I'm already in a bad mood and am definitely not ready to deal with more s**t.

I walk towards their table slowly not in any hurry to begin the torture that I'm sure awaits me but I can hear them talking about what they are all wearing to Adams yacht party tomorrow night. Wouldn't that be nice hanging out on a big yacht tossing back a couple of drinks, wearing the latest Armani, carrying a brand-new coach bag?

Grabbing the candle off the center of the table to light it I introduce myself and ask what I can get for them to drink. They order the best bottle of Cabernet we have and dismiss me without ever looking up at me.

By the time I get back to the table with the bottle in hand, they have two extra people sitting there. Both men wearing suits one with black hair the color of coal with big green eyes. He's extremely handsome, slightly familiar, but I'm sure his bad personality counterbalances all the positive looks. The other guy has blonde naturally looking messy hair but that's all I can see well looking at the back of his head. He does have his arm wrapped around Lauren, of course, she's leaning into him marking her territory.

I keep my head down as I round the corner with the bottle while I dig through my apron for the bottle opener. "Crash?" A deep familiar voice asks making my heart speed up instantly and my eyes lock with his. I suck in a breath wondering how he could be even more gorgeous than I remember.

I'm basically drooling while thinking back to my first day in Boston and how kind and infuriating this man was. Mostly my body yearns to have his warm hands on me to see if they can make shivers run along my spine as they did before.

"Crash? What kind of name is that? You know each other?" Lauren's voice snaps me out of my daze only to notice that she's sending me looks that could kill. Obviously, she doesn't like to feel threatened. I can feel my face turn red I hate being in uncomfortable situations.

"Aria,” He stresses my given name sending the butterflies that only happen around him into a fluttering mess in my stomach. “Just moved here we meet a while ago. I didn’t know you worked here." Thankfully he leaves out the part where I tripped and embarrassed myself. I don’t know if I could handle that on a day like today.

"I don’t, just like to dress up like a waitress and pretend." Not being able to be overly friendly to Mason. I start undoing the cork in the wine bottle to keep myself busy trying not to think about the past month when my mind would wander off to Mason. I imagined his face, and what I would assume his abs to look like.

"Funny. How's Boston treating you so far?" I'm surprised he's trying to start a conversation with me, Laurens right next to him practically sitting on his lap, her fingers digging into his thigh. I want to rip her perfectly manicured hands right off of him.

He’s not mine nor will he ever be. What’s it matter to you?

That she’s a b***h and he’s a good man.

You’ve been fooled before. He may be just cruel and wicked as the rest of them.

Yet somehow I doubt it.

"I love it! Everything is so beautiful here!" I say well pouring their wine not making eye contact with anyone.

"Have you been to the Boston historical park yet? You’ll learn all you need to about Boston."

Before I get a chance to respond Lauren speaks up "I'm sure she's already seen it darling no need to bore her. Anyhow, I'm famished how about we order."

"What can I get for you?" I ask they take turns ordering the most expensive things on the menu. When they finish I’m beyond happy to get as far away from Mason and Lauren as fast as possible.

When their food finally comes up I seriously contemplate spitting in Lauren's food. She’s practically sitting on top of him while he looks like he sits on the edge of the seat. Almost falling out altogether.

But she doesn’t care she’s a dog marking its territory. Funny, there’s no need for her to be jealous, she’ll never have competition from me, not really. Noticing my jaw is clenched too tight I loosen it as I shove my petty, useless frustration aside.

“How’s it going over there?” Tara slides in beside me while I set their starting salads on a tray to carry over to their table.

“Alright, they are overly snotty but nothing different than a normal table,” I say offhandedly. Pausing before adding “Except that’s him…you know the guy that helped me when I tripped the day I moved here?”

She gasps looking from me to the table and back. “Which one?” She says on a shocked exhale.

“The one with the dirty blonde messy hair, and crystal blue eyes.” I sigh, picking up the tray turning towards the dreaded table, leaving before she can even form a response.

I approach the table with caution, worried over what will happen next. Hoping I can just set their salads down and move on. I’m not being seated anymore so as soon as they leave, I can go to the beach so I can forget all about this day

I set their salads in front of them to the snotty sound of Lauren's voice, “Finally, how long does it take to make a salad. I’ve been coming here for years; I’ve never had service so bad.” The other three girls chuckle while the men seem to stay out of it altogether.

I bite my lip as I spit out what I’ve been trained to say in a situation like this, “Would you like me to bring over my manager so you can speak to him, or I could send a different server over to make sure the rest of your visit with us is a pleasant one.” I hope they don’t want to talk to Josh, he’s a great guy, and he even seems to like me and the work I do around here, but Tara wasn’t lying when she said customers really could get you fired.

I need this job. More so, I want this job. For the most part, it’s a good one. If only the clientele would loosen up a little.

“Thank you, Aria, for bringing us our salads quickly, I apologize for Lauren's rude behavior and comments.” Mason looks at me while he speaks, making me nervous and thrilled that he put Lauren in her place in front of me and everyone else. She stays quiet, I’m not sure if she isn’t used to Mason standing up to her or if she knows he’s more respected, important, and just an overall better person than she will ever be.

I turn and head back to the waiting station so I can get away from them and think about that carton of chocolate panda paws ice cream in the freezer, it’ll be a little pick me up before I do something with the two pounds of flour I just bought.

I need to get my menu ironed out, master the recipes, and make bigger portions to make sure the recipe converts well into larger portions. I’ve been bringing my creations to the Soup Kitchen every morning before work during the week. On the weekends I actually get to stay, help, and get to know everyone.

I like seeing what they do and don’t like. It helps me figure out what to make next and who likes what. Jude’s my favorite part. He’s a really great kid. He keeps me laughing with his crazy stories.

A small hand wraps around my arm pulling me behind the wall leading towards the kitchen and out of view from the guests. “Do you know who that is?” She whispers excitedly.

“Mason?” I say not sure how she wants me to answer. I know his name, and that he owns my apartment building, him being here with Lauren, the expensive suits, I know he’s a Someone.

“Yeah Mason, he’s The Mason Maverick as in His family owns Dixie Incorporated!” Did Dixie incorporate? Holy crap!!! Dixie’s an international family name, they own Dixie Supercenters and they’re bigger than Walmart in most of the world. Dixie online is only beaten out by sss. They own investment and realty firms all over the world. They are a multibillion-dollar massive company.

Last I heard they were close to being the first company to be worth trillions. That’s more money than most of us can even imagine. What the f**k?

“What? That’s insane! I had no idea.” What does one family even need with that much money, when their little Jude’s sleeping in their cars, showering in Public restrooms.

I take a deep breath as I move back to their table to clear it. “How are your salads?” I ask while topping off their glasses with more wine. I feel Laurens eyes boring into my skull, like a bug crawling under my skin that I can’t get rid of. Then there’s Mason’s gaze, it feels like a warm embrace, sending that now-familiar attraction to course through my body as if he was touching me with his hands not just his eyes.

“The salads are great as always, thank you.” So polite, he’s different than the girls, really the typical clientele, he has common curtsey and doesn’t look down on me like the rest do. It’s refreshing yet confusing. He’s had the same upbringing as the rest. Is he this way with all people that have less money than him, or does he just want to slum with the klutz that lives in one of his many buildings?

More so what’s he doing with Lauren? Are they together, sure looks like it from Laurens reactions and touches, but then why is he so openly showing me attention and attraction?

I nod my thanks, “Your entrees will be up shortly, anything else I can get you in the meantime?” I ask politely trying not to make eye contact with any of them.

The beach and that ice cream are calling my name.

“Were all set thank you Crash.” I walk away wondering why I like that he calls me that ridiculous name, hearing his voice say it is even better. Why does my body want him so badly? Why do I have these freaking reactions around him, like he is literally setting every nerve ending on fire, making me feel this intense pain that’s really kind of full of pleasure?

I’ve been getting myself off thinking about his face, his touch, seeing him in person, knowing he’s even hotter than I remembered? Thinking about everything I want him to do to me if I could. If I wasn’t broken and destroyed.

The way I can imagine his lips tasting, tasting them while he tells me how good he’s going to make it. His hands running down my bare skin, they were incredible wiping blood off my knees, touching me with the purpose of pleasuring me? I can’t even begin to imagine what the real thing would be like.

His crystal blue eyes full of want and need, holding mine as he undresses, showing off his sexy as f**k body I just know he hides under the thousand-dollar suits he wears.

Damnit Aria, looking around I’m glad to see that no one is looking my way. I don’t need anyone noticing the pink staining my cheeks or the way my breath has become shallow. Or that my hands are gripping the metal workstation in front of me turning my knuckles white.

I’m so glad Tara wants to go out to the beach, I need to have a few drinks tonight, after this hellish day. I don’t know how I let Tara in, I certainly didn’t mean to. That’s one too many relationships, no way will I let Mason anywhere near, so why my body's reaction? Why is it him I picture at night? Why are my hands still gripping the wait station?

I uncurl my fingers that are slick with sweat wiping them on my greasy pants and apron, watching as the cook, Joe puts up the final plate for their entrees. I load them onto a tray, steam rising off the plates, bringing a mouth-watering smell. I would never pay full price for any of the food here, but I sure as s**t love all the scraps the Chefs give out. It all looks amazing, the plates garnished in greens, reds, blacks. Always different, always changing with each entrée.

The food that comes off the window looks like some kind of art, every time. Joe takes his time creating each part of the dish he prepares, pairing every side with the main course, every sauce, meat vegetable with the correct garnishes, and suggestions on wine. He’s extremely talented at what he does.

I have no problem placing their entrees down when I get to their table, or I wouldn’t have much trouble if Claire didn’t stick her foot out at the last second making me lose my balance and once again trip with Mason watching. Only this time with much higher consequences. I watch almost in slow motion as their hot meals fall to the ground, the table and all over Claire, Mason, and Lauren, and slightly over the guy next to Claire.

I catch myself on the edge of the table, as the plates hit the ground shattering. The sound seems to echo in a now quiet room. I can feel every eye on me almost instantly. The women screech as they stand up, grabbing their napkins to get some of it off themselves. The guys just stand wiping themselves off not making as much of a scene as Lauren and Claire. Krista and Stacey were out of the line of fire, but they are just as outraged for their leader and her number one minion. Not that it matters, everyone’s already watching, probably recording to put this embarrassment up on f*******: Live.

I stand up straight, surveying the mess I made, the damage I’ve caused, their clothing alone has to cost more than I will make all year, probably longer.

This cannot be happening right now. It can’t be happening. “Oh my God!” I screech “I am so, so sorry!” I grab the linen napkin out of my apron and start to dap up the mess on the table, not getting very far before Josh, Tara and three other waiters are next to me helping me clean up the mess I created.

“Look at my dress, do you know how much this dress costs, it ruined!” Lauren cries tiring to wipe off the brown thick sauce splattered on the front of her. She looks like a canvas for a splatter paint artist. Her face is twisted in a grim line, eyes filling with tears. I can feel it deep in my bones that this is only about to get worse, no way in hell will she let this just slide by, accept my heartfelt apology and move on.

No, from this point on I’ll just be along for the show, her puppet to do with as she wants.

Josh approaches her trying to calm her down, save the situation as much as possible, although I don’t think there’s any returning at this point. Not for me.

“Ms. Amatranio, Mr. Maverick, I am extremely sorry, we will pay any damages done to any of you or your clothing,” Josh says a grimace on his face knowing it’ll cost the business a fortune.

Lauren turns to me pointing her skinny finger at me “I want her fired, straight away! She did this! She ruined all our clothes and nearly burnt us!” The whole restaurant is still waiting to love all the drama, great gossip for the rich and famous. The disgraced server that dumped burning hot food all over the richest guy in Boston and his slightly less-rich friends. I have no job forget that, no way of getting a job again after this gets to everyone and anyone. Who will employ me after this?

Ha! I’m going to have to ask Jude’s dad where he parks his car, I won’t have an apartment when Mason evicts me. I’m f*****g SCREWED!!!

Josh turns towards me a grimace on his face and regrets evident. “Aria, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to let you go.” I feel my head move up and down slightly and my limbs turn to move away from the scene. Ron, Lori, and Terri already have it as clean as possible for the moment.

I want out of here. Pivoting I walk as fast I can to the back.

“Aria. Girl. Hey.” She tugs at my sleeve, trying to get me to slow or stop, but I can’t, won’t. She follows anyways “Aria, wait!”

I sign out at the back computer, pulling out my tips with a note saying I’m sorry. The least I can do is leave as much money as I can with them. I won’t be getting my last paycheck that’s for sure.

“I saw Claire trip you, we can try and explain to Brain.” I shot her a heated glare at that, there’s literally no way he’ll ever take me back, and not with how public this is. Tara knows that.

“Claire tripped you?” Why does he always insist on prolonging my embarrassment?

I don’t stay to respond, almost running out the back door. The summer heat did not give any relief to my already overheated state. Breathing in the fresh air and no eyes on me feeling better than I could imagine, until the backdoor swings open.

“I asked you a question, Crash.”

“I’m well aware Mason.” Stomping away with my head held high I pray he doesn’t follow, knowing he will.

“Did Claire trip you? Or are you just prone to Crashing into things?” He doesn’t sound happy, but there’s still some humor in his voice, that pisses me off. He’s seen the worst of me, all he’s seen is the worst of me.

I stop us in our tracks, turning to face him in the middle of the sidewalk. My finger jabbed to his food-stained dress shirt. “Why the f**k does it matter? I still won’t have a job tomorrow.” His hands settle on my biceps as he takes a step closer. I have to crane my neck up to keep eye contact.

“Your job is secure Crash.” Rolling my eyes, I can’t forget who I’m talking to, Mister Rich and Powerful.

“Please just leave me alone Mason.” I tug backward, releasing myself from his hold. Once again on a mission to get to my kitchen before something else happens on this absolutely terrible day.

Mason sighs behind me, his presence pulls at my core. He’s never left my side. He doesn’t talk again either. Not for a good two minutes before a very expensive car pulls up next to us.

Mason stops and points towards the car with his head, “Aria, Come on, it’s sweltering out here, you’re in all black long sleeves and pants”. I keep walking. “Jesus, you are a stubborn thing. Get in the car.” His fingers interlock with mine, stopping me with a slight tug towards the car and a pleading look that does something weird to my broken heart.

Flicking my eyes to the car and back to his heavy gaze I give I give in, knowing he’s right. It’s hot, today was horrible, and honestly for some f****d up reason I don’t want him to let go of my hand.

His driver opens the door for us, I get into the car first forced to let his hand go. An invisible imprint is left behind from where he was holding me.

The car smells like him, the leather interior smooth and sleek. It isn’t long until Mason's driver opens the door on the other side of the car for Mason before he slides in. We sit there silently the whole ride home, a fact I am grateful for.

I fight tears the whole ride home, my voice would surely crack if I started talking now. I’m devastated at what just happened. The opportunity I just lost and the trouble I’ll have to go through to attempt to find something else. Especially now. How much do you want to bet Lauren practically black lists me?

I don’t know how this s**t happens to me.

Will I ever catch a break? What am I going to do now?

I should go somewhere south, find a small town somewhere. It will take me longer to save going to a small town, but better than no income at all. Plus they’ll have a cheaper cost of living.

I don’t wait for the driver to open my door when we pull into the parking lot of my apartment building, I swing it open before he even has it in park. I hear Mason saying something before his door opens too.

How do I get him to leave me alone?

I plow right through the front doors, past the elevator straight to the stairs. Footsteps echoing off the bare walls, Mason’s and mine.

I’m beyond relieved when I reach my door. I don’t bother closing it behind me knowing Mason will follow no matter what. He even has a right to, it’s his place after all. Maybe he doesn’t want some crazy, clumsy i***t damaging his property.

Leaving my purse on my bed I grab fresh clothes heading to the shower. I check the lock twice before feeling comfortable enough to undress.

Turning the water up high, the hot drops mi with my tears. Resting my head between my legs I let it all out wishing all my bad luck would just go down the drain with my tears.