The Millionaire and the Waitress

It was a hot summer night, the crackle of a distant thunderstorm only adding to the sense of anticipation which filled the air. Kathy had been working at the huge mansion since mid-morning, where a society event was being hosted. Comparatively speaking, the money wasn't great, but the hours were long, starting before lunchtime and running well into the evening, so the effort was certainly worth her while. Her university bills were starting to rack up quite considerably now and she needed to replenish her funds. Unlike some of her wealthier peers, Kathy wasn't a trust fund baby and had to make her own way in life. Something the owner of this mansion knew all about, as it happened, for tonight's party was being held to celebrate his fortieth birthday. Sir Samuel Lattimer had Kathy's full respect because he'd come from nothing to carve out a multi-million pound empire. Quite rightly, Samuel was celebrating in style and Kathy couldn't begrudge him that.

Predictably, the party was jam-packed with local socialites, some of which Kathy had seen at other events. Being a local girl, she was vaguely aware of celebrities who lived in the area, including Samuel, although she had never met him before. As Kathy scurried in and out of the main hall with canapes and champagne, she tried not to stare whenever she recognised someone famous. There had even been rumours of a certain prince and princess visiting, although nobody of royal blood had materialised yet. Regardless, Kathy had barely stopped all day and consequently, her feet were absolutely killing her. Thankfully, reprieve eventually arrived in the form of a half hour break, so it wasn't surprising she felt a sense of despair to hear her name being called, just as the clock started ticking.

'Yes Mrs Sanderson,' Kathy replied, trying to look alert and happy to be speaking with her boss, even though she felt knackered. After all, she needed this job and more jobs like it in the future, if she was going to pay off her tuition debts.

'Oh, were you just about to take a break?'

'I was,' confirmed Kathy, diplomatically. 'But is there something you need me to take care of first?'

'Yes, please. If you don't mind,' admitted Mrs Sanderson, looking as stressed as she always did in the middle of an event. 'Could you check the items in the ladies please; I've just been informed that we're low on hairspray.'

'Of course,' replied Kathy, putting down the cutlery and plate she'd just collected for her dinner. 'I'll go straight away.'

Grabbing the basket of beauty products, Kathy made her way towards the ladies cloakroom, trying to ignore her grumbling tummy which hadn't been fed for eight hours straight. Mrs Sanderson offered an additional service, which was supplying various useful products to the bathrooms, such as hairspray, moisturisers, deodorant and emergency makeup items. This was always well received by the clients but it did require somebody to keep the baskets replenished.

In Kathy's opinion, the way to judge if you were somewhere posh, was when the bathrooms had individual hand towels with which to dry your hands, and this place certainly didn't disappoint. As she walked along the numerous baskets in front of pristine mirrors, interspersed with floral bouquets, Kathy became horribly aware of her dowdy appearance. Dressed in a black skirt and white shirt, she was very much a monotone moth in a room full of exquisitely bedecked butterflies. Two such butterflies, clothed in expensive designer dresses which displayed an excessive expanse of cleavage, were flamboyantly beautifying themselves. Instinctively, Kathy knew their hair styles for that evening cost more than her entire wages for the day.

'Well, what is his type, then?' enquired one, pushing in front of Kathy, as though she simply didn't exist. 'I mean, will I do?' Pulling her most pouty face in the smear-free mirror, it caused her collagen lips to look even more unnatural. 'Well?!' she demanded, when her companion failed to respond.

'You'll definitely do!' her friend quickly replied, hiking up one breast and then the other.

'What's his type?'

It was perfectly obvious to Kathy, as she went about her business, that the two beauties were discussing their host. Indeed, she guessed their entire efforts over the course of the evening had been pre-planned, in an attempt to ensnare such a wealthy bachelor; the birthday boy himself. Silently, she felt sorry for the guy, to be discussed in such a manner.

'Not sure he's got a type, to be honest,' admitted the other woman, now waylaid with replenishing her lipstick and checking she hadn't got any stuck between her teeth. 'But he doesn't exactly...you know?'

'What?'

'Spread it around.'

'You mean he's waiting for "the one"?' The woman groaned, flashing her eyes dramatically. 'Well, I can play nice for a few months. It would be worth it for all the riches I'd be exposed to.'

'You're such a gold digger!' The two women giggled in great amusement until they caught sight of an astonished Kathy, who was struggling to believe anyone could be quite so shallow and callous.

'What are you gawping at?' the ringleader demanded, aggressively.

'I...er...um.' Kathy was so taken aback at their rudeness, she had no idea how to respond. 'I'm just...'

'You're here to clean the toilets, not to have an opinion,' she snickered. 'So do try not to eavesdrop!'

'To be perfectly frank with you, not listening to you is fairly difficult,' admitted Kathy, sending them both a very false smile, before turning her back on them to continue with her work. Consequently, she missed their joint glare, before the two ugly step-sisters launched back into their previous conversation.

'Well, step number one is to secure a dance with him. Then I can weave my magic spell.'

Kathy surreptitiously rolled her eyes, surprised to discover there truly were women like this in the world, totally devoid of character and out to snap up a rich man at any cost. She had thought, or perhaps hoped, such characters were just the creation of imaginative satirists.

'And how are you going to manage that? He's permanently surrounded and seems far more interested in talking to his friends than dancing. Plus, I've already seen him turn down a few requests; you're not going to get a pity dance from Samuel.'

'If you'd like an outside opinion, desperation is never a good look on a woman.' Kathy's statement was said so sweetly that it took a few seconds before the women realised they'd been insulted at all. God, she hated false people, particularly those with their fingers stuck quite so far up their own arses. Kathy knew her behaviour could result in a complaint, but sometimes even "toilet cleaners" had to stand up for themselves, no matter what the cost.

'What the hell do you know?' snapped one of them. 'Look at the fucking state of you!' And with that, they both pouted for real this time, turned and flounced out.

Taking the advice of her new-found enemy, Kathy gazed into the mirror. She certainly couldn't match the beautifully made-up women who had just departed, but her reflection didn't immediately make her want to vomit either. With lightly applied makeup, a natural blush from racing around and receiving insults, sparkling blue eyes and her blonde hair piled into a top-knot on her head, Kathy acknowledged she wasn't beautiful, but she still exhibited a degree of natural charm. Besides, having recently reached the grand old age of twenty-one, she refused to feel bad about herself, simply because she was wearing a waitresses' uniform, as opposed to a priceless Vivien Westwood.

Having completed her duties in the bathroom, Kathy returned to the kitchen to grab her long-awaited meal. Finding a quiet corner out the back, she gulped down her food, the threat of indigestion forever present. Fast was the only way to eat on this kind of job. In theory, every staff member was supposed to get a half hour break, but that never happened in reality. Sure enough, barely ten minutes later, Kathy was being called to assist with the champagne toast.

Wiping away any remnants of food from her lips, Kathy stood. Instantly, she became highly aware of her footwear; her heels were already starting to make her feet ache. Straightening her skirt, she grabbed a tray of pre-filled glasses and made her way through to the banqueting room. As she undertook her duties, offering a glass of champagne to any guest not already holding one, Kathy noticed one of the ugly step-sisters loitering near to the birthday boy himself. Poor bloke; he literally had no idea what he was in for. Purposefully, she headed in a different direction, in order to avoid further confrontation, before noticing that all her colleagues were already fanned out in that direction.

'Waitress!' called a high-pitched, unarguably bitchy voice which she recognised.

Biting back her attitude, Kathy forced a smile onto her face and turned towards the very woman she'd been trying to avoid. As her group of squealing friends each snatched up a glass of bubbly, Kathy stood there in silence, a benign look fixed upon her face, in order to avoid any further arguments. That didn't stop the ugly step-sister smirking at her as she took a glass, highlighting the extreme difference in their social class. Thankfully, when Kathy glanced at the tray she was holding, it was to acknowledge that she only had one glass remaining. Time to make herself scarce. But as she turned to leave, a deep, male voice spoke to her. It stood out because the tone was firm, but also gentle and kind, and kindness was something that had been sadly lacking from this event so far.

'One moment, please? Might I take that?'

Kathy turned in the direction of the voice, only to see the birthday boy himself approaching. His question amused her somewhat. Given he was paying an astronomical fee for the catering, as far as Kathy was concerned, he could take every last glass of champagne he wished.

'Of course,' she beamed. Offering the tray in his direction, she was temporarily surprised by just how tall he was, up close, and the intensity of his gaze. For a long, precious moment, their eyes locked, causing Kathy to swallow hard as a coldness filled her skull. Meanwhile, heat flooded her abdomen. It was a highly unexpected reaction, particularly given the man was a complete stranger to her.

'Thank you...?' And then he waited, leaving no doubt that she was expected to fill in the pause with her name. Unfortunately, Kathy was struggling to remember what that name was.

'I...er...Kathy,' she stumbled.

'Thank you, Kathy. I'm much obliged.' And then with a look that lingered far longer than strictly necessary, Samuel eventually smiled and released her from his gentle gaze. Given her face was now flushed and her knees trembling, only an idiot would remain oblivious to the reaction the rather dashing man was having on her.

With a final smile and nod of her head, Kathy turned around and walked as quickly as she possibly could without breaking into a jog, back to the sanctuary of the kitchen. Taking deep breaths, she grabbed a glass of iced water and downed it in one.

'You okay?' queried one of her colleagues.

'Fine, thanks. Just a bit....hot.'

'Yeah, I know. It's stifling in there, isn't it?'

Kathy nodded in agreement, failing to mention that her raised temperature had nothing to do with the heating system and everything to do with the hottest, sexiest guy she'd ever had cause to speak with.

***

The party was due to continue into the wee small hours, but the catering company was only contracted to remain on site until midnight. Several minibuses of staff had already left, leaving a skeleton crew, of which Kathy was a member. She didn't doubt this was because she lived relatively close so had her own transport.

When Mrs Sanderson eventually confirmed she could leave, Kathy breathed a sigh of relief; her feet were aching unbearably and she replaced her heels with flat shoes for driving. Having said goodnight to her remaining colleagues, she grabbed her bag and coat and began to walk away, just as the band started to play one of her favourite songs. Unable to prevent herself, Kathy paused in her departure, captivated by the spellbinding ballroom scene. Leaning against one of the great marble pillars in the function room, Kathy observed the timeless affair. Beneath twinkling lights, beautiful women were being swirled around the dance floor by handsome men, just as the grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight. She truly could have been in a scene from Cinderella...just as long as she wasn't going to turn into a pumpkin. Having consumed the sight with pleasure, Kathy turned to leave when she spotted a motionless Samuel in the centre of the room, just staring at her.

As though in a trance, she found she couldn't look away. With their eyes locked, the most powerful connection burnt between them; a connection that despite her attempts to the contrary, neither seemed able to resist. Kathy tried her hardest to swallow, but the mechanism failed. Her throat was simply too dry. She tried again, but aborted mid-way through as she watched Samuel raise his hand into the air and beckon her over with a single forefinger. Instantly heat flooded her tummy. It was a sensation which spread lower still when Samuel's mouth was transformed by a small smile. This wasn't happening to her, surely to God?

The temptation to glance behind, just to confirm Samuel's attention was on her and not somebody else, was too much to resist. Sure, it felt as though his eyes were burning into her soul, but it seemed like such an unlikely scenario that Kathy subtly glanced to her left, then her right, only to find she was entirely alone. He wanted her. Although the distance made it difficult to be sure, Kathy thought she saw his gaze softening when their eyes met again. She didn't have long to ponder the issue, though, for he had begun to walk in her direction. Instinctively, her hand reached out for the pillar behind, in order to balance herself.

'Please would you dance with me?' he enquired, holding out his hand as soon as they were within touching distance.

'W...why?' she managed to stutter.

'Because I want my first dance as a forty year old to be with you.'

'Of course,' she stuttered, as he gently removed the coat and bag from her tightly clenched hands and passed them across to one of his own staff members for safe keeping. Then, taking an astonished Kathy by the hand, he led her towards the centre of the dance floor. The zing that accompanied his touch was immediate and absolute. To Kathy, it felt as though heat was physically radiating from his hand to hers, before searing up her arm to consume her entire body. Never before had she experienced such a powerful reaction from one person. What power did this guy hold over her, to make her react in this way?

'I'm not like any of these other women,' explained Kathy, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious in her scruffy flat shoes and black and white uniform. Although, given the way she'd been treated by some of these allegedly beautiful women earlier, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

'No, you're not,' he agreed. 'Thank God. You are more refreshing than I can put into words.'

'But I'm really not dressed for this occasion,' she muttered.

'I don't know what you mean, Kathy,' he admitted, wrapping his strong arms around her, as he started to lead them around the room in a proficient waltz. 'You look perfect to me.'

Up to this point, Kathy's evening had been pretty shit if she was honest, particularly thanks to the two ugly step-sisters. But hearing Samuel's heartfelt words, combined with the knowledge that he'd remembered her name from their earlier conversation, filled her with a sense of well-being, happiness and warmth. Samuel had been the coveted prize of so many women tonight and yet he'd sought her out specifically. And now, here the two of them were, dancing joyfully, ignoring the nearby mutterings and looks of shocked disbelief. Somehow, even after the entire day on her feet, Kathy had discovered the energy, will and inclination to dance for as long as possible with this fascinating and heart-breakingly handsome man.

'I mean that I'm a waitress in uniform,' she laughed, sounding a little embarrassed. 'And there are tens of women surrounding us who are far more beautiful than me. And they all want to dance with you.' At that point, she dared to glance across at the two ugly step-sisters, allowing Kathy to truly understand the saying "looks like a bulldog chewing on a wasp". Their expressions were so sour that the women's mouths had almost entirely disappeared. Samuel followed her line of sight, frowning slightly when he realised who Kathy was referring to.

'They want to date a cheque book,' he said dismissively. 'And I won't give them the satisfaction. Besides, they've got no style.'

Kathy laughed, instantly warmed by the knowledge that Samuel was capable of seeing straight through their vacuous personalities.

'And you think a waitress does have style?'

'I don't judge people on their employment status. I judge people by their actions. And you can try as hard as you wish, but nothing you say will stop me believing that you are the most beautiful woman in this room.'

Unable to process the fact that he'd called her beautiful, Kathy decided to just live in the moment. So instead of entering into any further debate, she chose to spend those next four minutes absorbing him. Delighted by his company, enchanted within his embrace, Kathy wanted nothing more than for their dance to last forever. It was therefore a wonderful surprise when, as the band shifted from the end of one track into the next, Samuel failed to release her. Despite a number of women surging forward to take her place, Kathy instead found his arms tightening around her.

'Please stay with me,' he growled against her silky hair. Kathy had no idea what the meaning behind such an ambiguous statement was. Did he mean for her to stay for one more dance? Or to stay the night with him? At the thought of this, her legs almost buckled with heady anticipation. Failing to gain clarification, she simply sent a nod to Samuel and they shared a smile, as the music steered them on. Nobody would ever suspect she'd just worked a twelve hour shift on her feet, going by the way she was spinning around in his arms.

On and on they danced that evening; no other woman stood a chance. Feeling invigorated, she could have danced all night, and ended up doing so. And all the time, they chatted almost non-stop about a wide range of subjects. Engaged and fascinated, Kathy simply couldn't get enough of the guy. She'd simply never met anybody like Samuel before; he was the equivalent of a beacon, who energised and illuminated everything around him.

'I don't want to let you go,' Samuel periodically muttered in her ear.

'Then don't,' she would reply. Even when they paused for a drink, they maintained physical contact. It was as though they'd found something wonderous in each other; something they weren't willing to relinquish at any cost, just in case the connection was broken and they never met again.

It was after two in the morning when the band announced they were playing their very last song. It was a slow number, entitling Samuel's fingers to slide seductively across Kathy's back. It wasn't the first time that Kathy hoped the catering staff were tucked up in bed and fast asleep, given the rather wanton display she was currently involved in.

'I should um...probably... go?' The questioning lilt at the end of her statement was extremely telling. It confirmed that as well as not understanding what was happening between them, Kathy was also very short on experience with men. She'd never known anything like this connection before and she simply didn't understand what was happening.