Ashley stood behind the counter of the bustling restaurant, adjusting the customized T-shirt and apron she'd been given that morning. The smell of sizzling steaks, roasted herbs, and freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she tried to get used to the noise and rush around her. It was her first day at the upscale restaurant, a place known for attracting celebrities, business moguls, and the city's elite. The grandeur of the place was a far cry from the cramped, shabby house she had left behind just hours ago.
Determined to make a good impression, Ashley wore a bright smile as she served each customer assigned to her by the head waiter. The restaurant's polished floors gleamed under the soft chandelier lights, and the sound of polite laughter and clinking glasses created an atmosphere that felt almost surreal to her. For once, she was in a world far removed from her everyday struggles, if only temporarily.
As she was clearing a table, the door to the restaurant swung open, and a hush fell over the room. The new arrival was hard to miss. A tall, well-built figure dressed in an all-black suit, his face completely obscured by a sleek, black mask that covered everything but his piercing eyes. The masked man was accompanied by two imposing bodyguards who flanked him on either side. The room buzzed with whispers and stolen glances everyone recognized him. He was the infamous "Masked CEO," a mysterious figure who had become a sensation in the city. His identity was a well-kept secret, but his wealth and influence were undeniable.
Ashley's heart skipped a beat when the head waiter approached her, a slight frown creasing his brows. "Ashley, you're up. Table six," he said, nodding toward the masked man's table. All eyes in the room seemed to follow her as she nervously approached, trying to steady her trembling hands.
When she reached his table, she opened her mouth to introduce herself, but one of his guards held up a hand, stopping her. "No need for introductions," the guard said curtly. "Here's the order: a medium-rare steak, roasted vegetables, and your finest red wine."
Ashley nodded quickly and rushed back to the kitchen, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Why did they assign me to serve him? she wondered, trying to focus on placing the order. The chefs, already aware of who they were cooking for, moved with swift precision. The tension in the air was palpable.
Minutes later, Ashley carefully carried a large silver tray with the ordered meal, her hands steady despite her nerves. She approached the table and set the covered dish down in front of the masked man. As she turned to leave, a sudden pressure on her wrist made her freeze. She glanced down to find his gloved hand lightly gripping her.
"What's your name?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth, like the rumble of distant thunder. His eyes, the only visible part of his face, were piercing and intense.
Ashley's breath hitched in her throat, her mind racing. Why is he asking for my name? Did I do something wrong? "I... I'm Ashley, sir," she stammered, trying to regain her composure.
He released her wrist slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. "You're... different," he said thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. "What college did you attend?"
Ashley's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't understand his sudden interest. "I... I didn't attend college, sir," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
The masked man seemed to study her for a moment longer, as if weighing his next words. "You're beautiful," he said, his tone almost casual. "Can I get your number?"
The unexpected compliment sent a jolt through her. This can't be happening. The last thing she needed was unwanted attention from someone as powerful and mysterious as him. "I'm sorry, sir," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I don't have a phone."
He gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable behind the mask. With a casual wave, he dismissed her. As she turned to leave, he raised his hand again, gesturing to one of his guards. "Add a generous tip for her," he murmured softly, his eyes still locked on Ashley's retreating form.
****
Ashley's shift finally came to an end. She was exhausted but relieved that she had made it through the day without any major mishaps. As she was wiping down tables, the restaurant manager, a stern woman named Mrs. Collins, approached her with a rare smile.
"You did good today," Mrs. Collins said, folding her arms. "When you came in here saying you'd work diligently, I was skeptical. But you've proven me wrong."
Ashley blinked in surprise. She had expected criticism, not praise. "Thank you, ma'am. I just did my best."
"The Masked CEO left you a tip one thousand dollars." Mrs. Collins handed her an envelope, her eyes gleaming with approval. "He said it was for your excellent service."
Ashley's jaw nearly dropped. "A thousand dollars?" she whispered, barely able to believe her luck. The weight of the envelope felt unreal in her hands. For a moment, she felt a glimmer of hope this money could make a huge difference for her family.
"From now on, you'll receive a hundred dollars each weekend you work here," Mrs. Collins added. "But don't let this get to your head. Continue working like you did today, and there may be more rewards."
Ashley nodded eagerly, unable to contain her excitement. As she left the restaurant, the cool night air hit her, and she let out a sigh of relief. Maybe things are finally starting to look up, she thought.
****
The weekend flew by in a blur, and soon it was Monday morning. Ashley walked into the school with a spring in her step, her spirits lifted by the unexpected tip she'd received. For once, she felt a small sense of accomplishment. The usual whispers and sideways glances that greeted her in the hallways seemed quieter today, allowing her a rare moment of peace.
When she reached her classroom, she was surprised to see Fred already seated in his usual spot. He looked up as she entered, giving her a small, almost hesitant wave. Ashley returned the gesture with a smile, feeling a strange warmth in her chest.
She made her way to her seat, only to feel the warm breath of someone whispering behind her ear. "Meet me at the football pitch after class," the voice said quietly.
Ashley's heart skipped a beat. She didn't need to turn around to know it was Fred. The proximity of his voice and the faint scent of his cologne were unmistakable. Her mind raced as she tried to focus on the lesson, but her thoughts kept drifting back to his request. What does he want to talk about? she wondered, her anxiety growing with each passing minute.
When the bell signaling the break period finally rang, Ashley quickly packed her backpack, her hands trembling slightly. She hesitated, unsure whether she should look back to see if Fred was still there. Gathering her courage, she turned around only to find his seat empty.
When did he leave? she wondered, a mix of disappointment and curiosity swirling in her chest. Without wasting another second, she rushed out of the classroom and made her way to the football pitch, her heart pounding with anticipation.
When she arrived, Fred was sitting alone on the bleachers, his eyes focused on the players running on the field. The sunlight caught the highlights in his hair, giving him an almost angelic glow.
"Sorry I'm late," Ashley said breathlessly as she sat down beside him. "You said you wanted to talk?"
Fred turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he just stared at her, as if struggling to find the right words. "Yeah... I did," he finally said, his voice unusually soft.
Ashley's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's on your mind?" she asked, pretending not to know the depth of emotion in his eyes.
"It's... complicated," he said, hesitating. He glanced away, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to hold something back. "There's something I need to tell you, but... I don't know where to start."
The air between them felt charged, as if the next words spoken could change everything. Ashley waited, her heart racing, knowing that whatever Fred was about to say could be the start of something new or the beginning of more trouble.