Soooo I know this seems like the most random set ever, basically it is a set about a story...well book I am writing. It is about a man named Kent Whitlock (Adam Garcia the really hot guy with black hair and green eyes, he is rich, kind of a brat, and Erica, a rather poor waitress with a lot of secrets. here is chapter 1 I will be SOOOOOOOO THANKFUL if you tell me what you think of the chapter, if it captivates you (honesty is expected even rudeness!), thanks guys, and if you dont want to read enjor the set :)
A not so Happy Fathers Day
"Happy Fathers Day Mr. Whitlock," the Sous Chef of Ruth's Chris Steakhouse greeted personally.
Kent looked up only with his dark green eyes to give his response to the world renowned chef. "Chateau Margaux 1995," Kent ordered flawlessly.
"Of course, I remember your father ordering that. Would you like anything to-,"
"Just the drink," Kent cut him off forcefully.
"Right," he nodded.
Kent gazed around the room, and as usual everyone was staring at him. He was used to this type of attention but certainly didn't enjoy it. His father Kenneth Whitlock used to be the most prestigious real estate tycoon in Los Angeles. He designed and built several Hollywood homes, many of which were custom made for celebrities.
With Kenneth's photo posted all over Hollywood, the Whitlock family had become something of celebrities themselves. If Kent ever made a rare appearance in a Hollywood night club or restaurant, it would be on the front page of the newspaper the next day. His male model looks didn't seem to hurt either.
Kent loosened his Hugo Boss white tie a little bit to take some of the edge off of the eyes beginning to pierce through him. Couldn't they stare at something else? Normally it didn't faze him one bit, but he knew they weren't just staring because of his presence there.
About a month ago Kenneth Whitlock had a heart attack and passed away unexpectedly. He was only fifty two years old and had left his son with everything, which was more of a burden than it seemed. While Kent was quite knowledgeable in real estate, the business of running the company his father built from the ground was a lot of pressure for a twenty four year old that had never worked a day in his life. Losing his father had left him numb and regretful, and today on Fathers Day he wanted to somehow reconcile with himself by dining at his dads favorite restaurant, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect.
Kent realized that by coming here alone on Fathers Day he was just torturing himself, and all he wanted to do now was immerse himself in the light-weight black cherry flavor of the wine he was now impatiently waiting for. Finally, for what seemed like hours, the waitress arrived. In an attempt to avoid more stares, Kent had become immersed in his Blackberry and didn't bother looking up.
"Here you go Sir," the woman carefully poured the bottle of wine into a glass. Out of the corner of his eye Kent could see a flash of dark red tendrils floating over the table.
"It's such a nice day today, perfect Fathers Day weather," the waitress babbled on while pouring. As she leaned forward her hair brushed Kent's wrist, and she tucked it behind her ear.
"I haven't seen this place so busy since- oh no! Oh crap!" she shrieked as the large bottle toppled out of her hands. The nearly black liquid spilled onto Kent's white tie and onto his Blackberry instantly breaking it. That certainly caused him to look up.
"I am so sorry!" the waitress apologized over and over. She pulled a dish towel out of her apron and desperately tried to clean the mess.
Kent was just about to express his irritation, but became too dumbfounded to speak, and it wasn't just from the cold drink. Kent continued to study her as panic glimmered throughout her eyes. Unlike most redheads she had sun kissed skin and only a few freckles that dotted her slim arms. He wondered what nationality she was, and if her deep auburn hair color was natural. It reminded him of autumn.
"Erica!" the Sous Chef tore off across the room, as if he was about to attack her. If only half the room was staring before, now everyone was looking straight at Kent, or at least it seemed that way.
"Do you realize you just spilled a thousand dollar bottle of wine all over one of our most favored clients?" he hissed as if he was about to attack her.
"I..," the nearly in tears waitress attempted.
"You are an idiot. Don't even think about getting paid this week, it’s coming out of your paycheck."
"But you don't even pay me that much!" she protested almost laughing.
"Get out of my sight," he replied waving her off. "My deepest apologies Mr. Whitlock, the girl is a complete dimwit. Would you like another bottle Sir? It is on us of course."
Kent hardly heard him as he followed the girl with his eyes.
"Mr. Whitlock?” the Chef repeated.
"No thank you," Kent stood up from his seat not making eye contact with the Chef. He stuffed his demolished Blackberry into his pocket and walked past everyone towards the kitchen. Not caring less about the sign that said Employees Only, he burst through the doors. The cooks looked up from their work surprised to see a customer in the back, and Kent Whitlock of all people.
He saw her crouched on the floor predictably in tears. She looked up surprised, and quickly wiped away the runny lines of eye makeup that had fallen down her face.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized again. The door swung open again, and the chef looked curiously at Kent.
"Sir was there something you needed? Erica, apologize to this man right now," he ordered.
"She already apologized. Several times," Kent cut her off before she could say sorry again.
"Oh I see. We will deal with her don't worry," the chef assured.
"That's not necessary. And as for the money, you don't need to take it out of her paycheck either."
"But Sir, the bottles cost over a grand each, she spilled it everywhere, it is her fault, therefore she doesn't get any pay for this week."
Kent fished into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook and a pen. "How much is it exactly?" he asked ready to write down the sum.
"Well, how much?" Kent repeated.
"It is nine hundred and sixty seven dollars."
Kent chuckled and rolled his eyes at the chump change figure. He quickly wrote the check and handed it over.
"Always a pleasure Sir," the Chef replied with a phony smile.
Before Kent turned around to leave, he took one last look at the surprised and beautiful waitress.
"You're welcome", he mumbled. For some reason he felt nervous and quickly left the kitchen. He walked quickly past everyone eating and out of the restaurant.
He was about to ask the valet driver to fetch his car, when the girl came running out after him.
"Wait!" she called. "You didn't need to do that, really!"
"He's a jerk. Just look at it this way, you get to keep your job," Kent replied nearly stumbling over the words as his breath caught in his throat.
"That was, just really unnecessary, and really kind," she shook her head still in surprise.
"Hard to believe I know. We Whitlock's actually have souls," he replied sarcastically.
"No! I’m sorry. I didn't mean-,"
"It’s fine. After all I don’t think you can do much worse to me," He laughed looking down at his ruined clothes. He watched as she blushed darker than her hair.
"Seriously, I can buy you a new tie," she offered.
"I don't think we shop at the same places, but thanks anyway," he replied condescendingly without realizing it.
"Oh I see. Since I'm just a waitress right?"
"And not a very good one I might add," Kent chuckled.
"If you look down on me so much, why did you pay all that money for a bottle of wine that I spilled on you?" she challenged.
"It was chump change sweetheart."
“Oh, I know what it is! You think you can buy me just because of who are right?"
"Yes that's it. I really wanted you to spill wine all over my now broken Blackberry so that I could impress you. Oh wait, weren't you the one that ran after me?"
"Yes, but it was only so I could tell you that I don't need your money!"
"Well it sure looks like you do," he said pointing down at her tattered black shoes.
"Well sorry that I can't just mooch off of daddy like you!" she shot back in defense.
He paused at the statement, realizing that she probably didn't know about the death of his father, but it was still insulting. He assumed that everyone always knew everything about him. It would be strange having to explain his life for the first time.
"Do you see my dad here?"
“That’s right,” he cut off before she could finish. “He’s been dead for a month. And I would never manipulate my father for money.
"Kent, I'm sorry,” she replied slowly.
"Don't talk to me like you know me. Go back inside, waitress," he pointed towards the door.
"My name is Erica.”
"It's waitress to everyone in there. You're boss, me, and anyone who matters. It's just waitress."
"I should have aimed for your crotch when I spilled," she muttered turning around going back inside.
Kent rolled his eyes, and got into his Porsche GT Carrera, enjoying the smooth ride while knowing Erica, waitress, whatever, would have to work her finger to the bone to probably earn rent money for some lousy apartment. Well one thing was for sure, she was one of the prettiest girls he ever laid eyes on, and he knew money couldn't pay for that. Not naturally at least.
P.S. thank you gwyn for the premade!