Beautiful Stranger (18+)

Prologue

"Thank you, Kammy, don't forget to tell Carl to add her bill to mine." I start to walk away when she places her hand on my shoulder. I jerk away from her touch and whirl around, a murderous expression on my face. I loath when people touch me. Ask for permission, bitch! Unless I know you extremely well.

She cowers away and whimpers. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, Sir, it won't h-happen again." God, I hate when people stutter. Grow a fucking backbone. Unless I'm having my way with you in the bedroom then don't fucking stutter. That is the only exception.

"It better not," I say cooly. "Is there a reason you decided to place your hand on my shoulder?"

"A-are you sure you want to add her bill to yours?" Again with the stutter, really? "I'm sure she can pay for dinner herself-" A glance at the woman and then a sneer of disgust. "Or maybe not considering...are you sure you want to associate with people like her?"

I quirk a brow, my anger spiking. "Are you insinuating she can't afford dinner at this restaurant because she is a woman of color?"

"Well, yes, look at her she probably cleans houses for a living." Kammy sneers. "And this is a four hundred dollar meal restaurant on average."

"You do realize I am Hispanic, right?" I question rhetorically. What a fucking airhead. "Pack your shit and leave, you're fired."

Her sneer twists into a look of anger and she practically screams, "What?!"

I whirl around to face the dining room and send a glare at the nosy bitches trying to listen to our conversation now that this racist piece of shit aired it out to the entire restaurant. Including the grey-eyed beauty. She unlike the rest doesn't balk from my glare. However, she doesn't seem nearly as interested in what is happening as she does in her glass of near empty tequila.

"I have no room for racist dumbfucks on my staff. You. Are. Fired." I enunciate every word to get it through her thick headed skull. She slaps me across the face and storms out of the restaurant.

I hate talking to people.

Especially racist, sexist, and homophobic people. The nerve of some of these bitches I have met in my life. Talking shit like they're any better than someone of a different gender or a darker skin color or a different sexual preference. Stupid fucks. Literally makes my blood boil.

I hold in my sigh of exasperation as I head for the grey-eyed beauty's table. She watches me the entire way, her charcoal eyes boring into my blue ones as I weave in and out of tables, dodge incoming plates of food, and make sure I'm not spilling any of Satan's fruit punch also known as alcohol.

I finally reach the booth, setting the drinks down, and pulling out the leather chair across from her. She looks down at the glass and then back at me. Damn, those eyes are even more piercing up close. "I could send you away like I did the other guy, but since you came baring alcohol I'll let you entertain me for now." Her accent was American, but I could hear another underlying it, however, it was faded with disuse.

I quirk a brow. Bold. Sexy. "I guessed tequila."

She smirks and picks up the glass, inspecting it for any signs of tamper I assume. "You guessed correctly." She takes a tentative sip and nods when she realizes it doesn't taste funny. "Ever thought of being on Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune, wait what is the one that deals with pictures, is that Family Feud or The Price Is Right?" She shakes her head. "There are so many these days."