“Not sure how much you know but Woods broke it off with that uptight Greystone heiress. My guess is daddy is pissed. Anyway, the heiress, her equally uptight mother, and Mrs. Kerrington are sitting at six. There can be nothing good about that gathering.”
Oh no. I didn’t want to deal with those three. But I didn’t have a choice. It was just Jimmy and me for the breakfast shift. We would have more help for the lunch shift.
“I’ve scared you. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s good. You didn’t piss them off, Woods did. You just serve them their food and all should be good.”
He was right. They didn’t even know I existed. Besides, I wasn’t sure what was going on with Woods. Yesterday he’d completely confused me.
“I can do it,” I assured Jimmy, taking my tray of waters out to table four.
Once I had that table served and orders taken I made my way over to table six. All three women seemed to be in deep conversation. I almost walked past them and gave them a few more moments before interrupting. But then that could piss them off and I didn’t want to add to this drama.
“Good morning,” I said in more of a squeak than a greeting. Fantastic. Mrs. Kerrington flashed an annoyed look my way. I had never met her but I recognized those dark brown eyes glaring at me. There was no mistaking that she was Woods mother.
“Sparkling water.”
“Evian with a glass of ice,” Angelina said.
“The same,” the third lady who had to be her mother informed me without looking at me.
I quickly headed to the kitchen and took a deep breath. They were just like all the other guests. No reason to panic. I fixed their drinks and went back out to serve them.
“He just needs time. He’s never been one to like being told what to do. It’s not you darling. He’s a male and he is as red blooded as they come. The boy wants to sow his wild oats.” Woods’ mother was reaching across the table patting Angelina’s hand as she said this.
“I don’t think that’s it. He truly doesn’t like me. He said that we’d be miserable together. And maybe he’s right. I want things he doesn’t. Obviously.”
Mrs. Kerrington sighed. “Yes. Well, his father is very disappointed in him. We expected him to think about something other than himself this time. But he’s a spoiled boy. He has always had his way. This is my fault of course. I should have told him no more often.”
I sat the waters down in front of them and tried to be as invisible as possible.
“Bring us a fruit tray please and make sure the kiwi is included.”
I nodded once before leaving. I wanted to hear more but then it was best that I didn’t. I wanted to argue with them. Woods wasn’t selfish. He wasn’t some kid having a temper tantrum. He was a grown man tired of being controlled and manipulated. And who did Angelina think she was? She wants different things obviously. Like she was so noble. Bitch.
I slammed the door behind me and let out an aggravated growl.
“Whoa, sugar. You look ready to tear someone up,” Jimmy said as he set the order that was up on his tray.
“Woods’ mother is infuriating. And that… that ugh… God, I’m glad he isn’t marrying that woman. She’s just... I want to slap her.”
Jimmy started to chuckle when the door behind me closed and his eyes went wide. I was almost afraid to turn around.
“I have to agree with you on both accounts.” Woods’ sexy voice was amused. I turned around and took in the sight of him. His dark hair was styled with the messy look and his jeans hugged his hips perfectly. The white oxford shirt he was wearing only made his olive complexion stand out even more.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to say as my heart rate picked up. I stared at his hand and thought about how that hand felt as it slipped under my shorts yesterday.
“Don’t be. I said I agreed with you.” I lifted my eyes to meet his. He thought it was funny I didn’t like his mother or his former fiancée. I could see it in his eyes.
“Good morning, “ he said and glanced behind me toward the kitchen staff that I knew were a more rapt audience than they let on.
“Good morning,” I replied.
“I’ll take out their fruit,” he said, walking over to get it. I hadn’t even ordered it yet.
“That can’t be theirs; I haven’t entered their order,” I said as he made his way to the door with the fruit that included kiwi.
“It’s theirs. My mother rarely orders anything else for breakfast. This crew knows that.”
Then he was out the door.