HARRO.
"Gemma? Can you come here for a second, please?" Harro called out to one of the girls scrubbing away at the dishes, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The girl quickly dried her hands and hurried over to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Yes, Harro?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Harro's grin grew wider as he handed her a service tray laden with an assortment of his most exquisite creations. "I need you to deliver this to that table over there" he glanced around the room, his eyes locking onto Orion's table, "...twelve. And when you do, I want you to tell the gentleman that the chef is trying new recipes and this is on the house."
The girl's eyes widened slightly as she took in the elaborate spread, but she nodded efficiently and set off towards the table, her hips swaying gently as she navigated through the crowded room. Harro watched her go, a satisfied smile still plastered on his face.
Good, he thought to himself, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. This was going to be so much fun!
Everything was falling into place, just as Harro had envisioned. But his triumphant smile was short-lived, as a hulking figure in a black suit suddenly materialized between Gemma and Orion's table. Harro's eyes widened in frustration as he let out a string of curses under his breath.
Damnit! A bodyguard! He hadn't factored that into his plan, but he wasn't about to let a minor setback like this derail his entire operation. With a swift motion, he ushered more staff out of the kitchen, each carrying trays laden with an assortment of dishes.
He rapidly fired off instructions to each of them, his voice low and urgent. "Take these to those tables around table twelve; tell them the chef said it's on the house. And make sure the gentleman in table twelve hears you." The staff nodded and dispersed, weaving through the crowded room with practice ease.
It seemed to be working, Harro observed with a mix of satisfaction and relief. Orion's bodyguard was stepping aside, allowing Gemma to set the tray down in front of him. As she whispered Harro's message in his ear, Orion's face broke into a warm smile, and Harro's heart skipped a beat.
Harro's eyes were glued to Orion's face, drinking in the sight of his radiant smile. He was, without a doubt, the most breathtakingly beautiful human being Harro had ever laid eyes on. The term "handsome" didn't even begin to do him justice. Those mesmerizing dimples, the sparkle in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips... Harro's heart was racing with excitement, his mind reeling with the possibilities.
As he watched, Orion's gaze wandered over the array of dishes in front of him, a look of bewilderment etched on his face. Harro could almost hear the thoughts running through his mind: "Isn't this food a bit too much for one person?" Ah, but that was where the beauty of Harro's plan lay. Who said it was all for him alone?
Harro's triumphant smile grew wider as Orion lifted his fork and took a tentative bite of the Lemony Broccoli Pasta. The look of surprise and delight that crossed his face was all the reward Harro needed. He had done it. He had finally gotten Orion's attention, and it was only a matter of time before he reeled him in completely.
Harro let out a triumphant whoop, pumping his fist in the air. "Finally...let the games begin!" He felt like a mastermind, having successfully orchestrated the first move in his plan.
Gemma burst into the kitchen, a look of relief washing over her face. "Good save, boss," she said, shaking her head in admiration. "I could tell he was skeptical at first, but when the others started accepting their meals without complaint, he relaxed a bit."
She shuddered, her eyes wide with excitement. "But, dude, his bodyguard is scary AF! I thought I was a goner for sure." Harro chuckled, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. Was he a genius or what? He knew people loved free food, especially when it was as delicious as his culinary creations. And what better way to break the ice than with a mouth-watering meal?
Harro's mind was already racing ahead, thinking about his next move. He had gotten Orion's attention, but now it was time to reel him in. The game was on, and Harro was ready to play.
The bodyguard was a wild card, a potential spanner in the works that Harro couldn't afford to ignore. He made a mental note to come up with a plan to neutralize the threat, to ensure that his carefully laid plans weren't derailed by the hulking giant.
"Gemma?" Harro called out, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What exactly did you say to him that made him smile like that?" He was intrigued, his mind racing with possibilities. What could Gemma have said to elicit that dazzling, dimple-filled smile?
Gemma's eyes darted around the kitchen as if searching for an escape route. "I simply told him what you said, boss," she replied, her voice measured. "I might have also mentioned that it would please the chef greatly if he liked the food."
Harro's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. There was something Gemma wasn't telling him, something that made her squirm with discomfort. Why did she look like she'd rather be anywhere but here, facing Harro's questioning gaze?
Harro's eyes locked onto Gemma's, his gaze piercing. "What else did you say, Gemma?" he asked, his voice low and even. Gemma's gulp was audible, and Harro's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Now he was really curious.
"I just told him he was very handsome?" Gemma's voice was laced with uncertainty as if she was questioning her own actions. Harro's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities.
"And...that he smelt like home on a cold winter night," Gemma rushed out in one breath, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry...I couldn't help myself, he smelled so good!" Harro let out a sigh, shaking his head in amusement.
Gemma was a born flirt, and her mouth often ran ahead of her brain. She was a free spirit, always speaking her mind, and Harro had lost count of how many times she'd fallen head over heels in love with a new face in the restaurant. With a place full of handsome men and women, it was a wonder she got any work done at all.
Harro's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "It's okay, Gemma. But he's mine, so don't go getting any ideas, okay?" Gemma's grin was mischievous as she saluted, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I wouldn't dare, boss," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Harro chuckled, shaking his head at her goofy pose before stripping off his apron. Wish me luck! Time to meet my target.
ORION'S POV...
"It's bad enough that you refused to join me in indulging in this culinary masterpiece," Orion said, his voice tinged with amusement, as he gazed at his driver/bodyguard's scowling face. "But it's even worse when you look at it like it's a crime scene. I swear, I've lost my appetite just watching you glare at this poor, defenseless food."
The bodyguard's expression remained unyielding, his eyes narrowing slightly as if daring the food to make a wrong move. Orion sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. So much for having an ex-military officer as a bodyguard; the man was as flexible as a granite statue.
Just then, a smooth, velvety voice cut through the air, sending a shiver down Orion's spine. "I'm afraid not everyone has the pleasure of appreciating good meals like you do, Orion." The voice was unmistakable, its low, husky tones echoing in Orion's mind like a whispered promise. He didn't need to turn around to know who was speaking; the memory of their brief encounter just hours ago was still etched vividly in his mind.
Orion's face burned with embarrassment as he realized he'd been caught off guard again by the younger man. He swiftly composed himself, dabbing his mouth with a napkin to buy some time. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Bishop, should I be surprised that you're here!" he said, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm that didn't go unnoticed.
Harro's eyes crinkled at the corners as he chuckled, his smile radiant. "The pleasure is all mine," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. "And no, you shouldn't be surprised that I'm here... but I am surprised to see you here." He gestured to the scantily clad bartender, his eyebrows arched in amusement.
Orion's cheeks flushed with a subtle tint, and Harro's heart skipped a beat. He loved the way Orion's eyes sparkled with embarrassment, the way his face glowed with a soft, pink hue. Harro's mind began to wander, conjuring up images of Orion flushed and ready for... He mentally slapped himself, forcing his thoughts back on track. Not now, damn it!
Harro mentally shook himself, refocusing on the game at hand. He couldn't let his fantasies distract him from the ultimate prize. "So, how did you like the food?" he asked, his tone innocent and curious.
Orion's response was music to Harro's ears. "The food is amazing, unlike anything I've ever tasted." Harro's eyes sparkled with triumph as Orion continued, his words spilling out with sincerity. "Lemony broccoli pasta is my favorite meal. I just have to find the chef and tell him that."
Harro's inner victory dance was epic. Step one of his plan was unfolding with precision, and Orion was taking the bait hook, line, and sinker. The fact that Orion genuinely loved the food only added to Harro's satisfaction. He had carefully crafted the dish to impress, and it seemed he had succeeded. Now, it was time to reel Orion in, to make his move and see where the night would take them.
Orion's stern expression softened slightly as he considered the younger man's words. As a self-proclaimed culinary disaster, he had a deep appreciation for the effort and energy that went into cooking a decent meal.
"Well...the chef is very happy to know that you liked the food, Orion," Harro said, his grin faltering for a moment as he awaited Orion's reaction.
But Orion's expression turned glacial once more. "It is Mr. Stone to you!" he snapped, his voice icy. The younger man's use of his first name was a breach of etiquette, a familiarity that Orion didn't appreciate.
Harro's eyes sparkled with mischief as he apologized, his tone dripping with insincerity. "I am sorry, Mr. Stone," he said, his voice laced with a hint of distaste. "I meant no disrespect. I just assumed you would want to be called a name that belongs to you, instead of the one you inherited from your ancestors."
Orion's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the implications of Harro's words. He recalled the younger man's apology to his father earlier that day, and how it had seemed more like a mockery than a sincere expression of regret. Yet, there was something about Harro's words that resonated with him, a sense of sincerity that Orion couldn't quite ignore. He cleared his throat, his voice firm once more.
Orion's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he pressed Harro for an answer. "You didn't answer my question about how you know the chef would be happy to know I liked the food, Mr. Bishop." He tread carefully, unsure of the younger man's motivations, but determined to uncover his true intentions.
Harro's expression turned solemn, his eyes gleaming with sincerity. "Please, call me Harro," he said, his voice low and genuine, a stark contrast to the playful tone he'd used earlier. "And yes, I know how the chef feels." A hint of his earlier cheekiness crept back into his voice, his words dripping with confidence.
Orion's eyes lingered on Harro's face, searching for any sign of deception. But Harro's expression remained open, his eyes sparkling with amusement, as if daring Orion to ask another question.
Orion's curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, his tone laced with skepticism, "Oh really, how's that?" His eyes locked onto Harro's, searching for any hint of deception. But Harro's smug expression only deepened, his eyes glinting with triumph.
Harro paused for dramatic effect, savoring the moment. "Yes..." He drew out the word, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Because I am the chef." The words burst forth like a triumphant fanfare, Harro's face aglow with pride.
Orion's poker face, legendary for its impassivity, shattered like glass, replaced by a look of genuine shock. His eyebrows shot up, his eyes wide with astonishment. "What?" The word tumbled out of his mouth, a stunned exclamation that was music to Harro's ears.
Harro's inner triumph was palpable. He felt like he was walking on air, his heart soaring with exhilaration. Bingo! He mentally pumped his fist in victory, basking in the glory of his successful revelation. And just like that, he was the happiest man on earth.