A strange look crossed the man's face, then disappeared so quickly that she wondered if she really saw something.
"Ah, he's not that bad," said the man as he continued to refill the tray.
Atiya sniffled. It was clear that he didn't see the pretentiousness emanating from the butler and it was certainly due to the man who had hired him. "Yes. Well, who can blame the guy? He can get a lot of criticism from his boss. I mean, come on, who throws an adult birthday party?" She looked up and smiled at him.
He has a sour face. "Well, sometimes parties are held without the permission of the intended host."
Atiya rummaged through several drawers before finding a knife. Then she started smoothing out the clipped frost. "Well, anyone who lives a life like this doesn't understand what it's like to be a bad guy. I'm sure he even asked the maid to iron his underwear. "
The man coughs. She glanced at him. His face flushed red as he surveyed the counter. A feeling of guilt enveloped him. The truth is she doesn't know the billionaire. He can be good. But experience has taught him that the chances are slim. If you had money, you were rude. Stage.
But, from the pursed lips of the boy in front of her, he felt different. "I'm sorry," she said, giving him a smile. "Sometimes I speak before I think." She pointed at his forehead.
He studied her. His frown gradually turned into a smile. "It's okay," he said, closing the box of appetizers. "Some rich people can be fools… and some poor people can judge.
Atiya 's cheeks heated up as guilt prickled under her ribs. God, being late put her in a bad mood. "I'm sorry. You're right." She gave him a small smile. "I don't remember your name," Atiya said, spreading cream over another cupcake.
"Probably because I didn't give it to you." He stood up from the counter and grabbed the now-full tray. "It's been a pleasure talking to you, Miss. Cupcake."
She watched him as he walked to the door and pushed her away. "I…uh…" she called, but the door closed before she could say a coherent sentence.
Now she studies the counter alone. It was a strange experience. She'll have to ask Detty about her when she gets here. Any waiter would feel like her when it comes to helping the rich. Maybe he gets paid more than her. She mocked. No possibility.
When she finished her last cupcake, Detty burst into the kitchen door, cheeks flushed and her bright blue hair pulled into a messy bun. She wears a white chef's coat and carries five stacked crates.
"I see, Ceasar !" she shouted over her shoulder as the door closed.
"Hey, Det," Atiya said, setting down the cupcake to help her unpack.
"Atiya !" I'm here." When Detty 's hand was free, she reached out and hugged Atiya .After two kisses on the cheek, she pulled away. "I'm glad you did. How long have you been here?" she asked as she began to rush into the kitchen.
"About twenty minutes ago. I had some problems getting the cupcakes here so I had to make some adjustments. She pointed to the tray in front of her. It wasn't her best work, but she saved them.
"They look great, P," said Detty as she placed several trays side by side on the counter.
Atiya stared at them. "I hope they work for the birthday boy."
Detty stopped and gave Atiya a goofy smile. "Did you see it?" His eyebrows raised. "He's so handsome."
Atiya rolled her eyes. Detty 's only criterion for being a charming man is two legs. "Really, Det?" Do you remember the butler? It was the sixty-year-old patent attorney that Detty had tried to trap her.
Detty raised her hand. "Hey, he's perfect for you."
Atiya shook her head. "Our only thing in common is our birthdays, except that he's thirty-four years ahead of me."
"You're being too picky," said Detty as she began loading the takeout on the tray.
"And you're not picky enough." Atiya hated how Detty was always trying to trap her. Right now, a man was the last thing Atiya needed. She was there to start her own business. To do true to what his father gave him when he died. One man will get in the way of all this.
"Well, I doubt you feel sorry for Mr. Scott . He is the whole package. Money. Best regards. Character." Detty stopped to fan herself with a nearby towel.
Atiya shook her head. Wrapping up a billionaire is not something she wants to do. His smile flashed through his mind. "And that new guy you have working for you?"
"Which newcomer?" Detty asked as she returned to refilling the tray.
"You were here earlier. He said he worked for you."
Detty stared at her. "Honestly, I don't understand what you're talking about. I haven't hired anyone yet."
Now it was Atiya 's turn to stare. "No. There was a guy here earlier who filled a tray with baguettes and bruschetta."
Detty glanced around the kitchen. "Did anyone here touch my food?" Atiya nodded, leaning forward. And slide the tray over the shoulder. As she followed Ceasar, she tried to shake off the feeling of embarrassment. Who is in the kitchen then? And why does he say he works for Detty ?
When Ceasar led her into the living room, she saw the waiter. He was standing at the back of the room, under the happy birthday sign. When her eyes met his, he smiled.
Atiya watched him. If he doesn't work for Detty , who does he work for? She should wait until she can find him alone to ask.
Ceasar pointed to the table. Atiya bent down and set down the cupcake tray. When she stood up, a mysterious man appeared beside them.
"They look great," he said, nodding at the cupcakes. His voice was soft, almost playful. "Mr. Scott ," said Ceasar , nodding at the enigmatic man. "It's Miss. Bailey."
Atiya stopped. What? Did Ceasar just say, Mr. Scott ? Warmth spread through her body as she met Mr. Scott 's eyes. Is he a billionaire? Consciousness had collapsed with her. Why is she so stupid in the kitchen? She swallowed. What is she going to say?
Mr. Scott 's smile widened. "Nice to meet you, Miss. Bailey. You can call me Aquila."
Ceasar growled behind her.
"I—uh. . ." Atiya watched him. "I thought you worked for Detty ." Mentally, she slapped herself. Is that the best she can find?
He leaned over and nodded to a passing reveler. "You asked, but I never confirmed it."
Her cheeks burned as she replayed their conversation in her head. Even if she wanted to prove him wrong, he was right. "Why don't you tell me who you are?" Atiya asked. For some reason, she felt betrayed. It was ridiculous because they had just met.
Aquila shrugged. "You seem pretty confident you know all about me."
Atiya swallowed. It's the truth. But if she knew, she would never say what she said. "But-"
"Miss . . ." He raised his eyebrows as if wondering.
"Atiya ". Was it wrong for her to feel disappointed that he had forgotten her name?
"Atiya , don't worry about that. I won't tell anyone how you feel about the rich." He gave her a half-smile then turned his attention to an elderly woman walking towards them. She has blonde hair tied in a ponytail tied at the nape of her neck and wears a navy blue suit.
Her jaw clenched as she looked at Atiya. "Ready, Aquila ?" she asked, glancing at him.
"Yes, ma'am." Aquila gave Atiya one last smile and then turned to the guests gathered around him.
Atiya passed out in the crowd as they began to sing Happy Birthday. Not wanting to stand there looking like an idiot, she grabbed her coat, waved Detty goodbye, and headed down the hallway.
Once in the elevator, she leaned against the wall. A stinging confusion passed through her. How could she make herself such a fool? Her father always told her that she should think more before speaking. Today is proof of that.
But if a billionaire just needs to be honest about who she is, she'll never say the things she did. His stomach twisted. Her father did not raise her to be rude. What is wrong with her?
When the elevator doors opened, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least she would never see Aquila Scott again. That thought made her feel a little better.