Fiancée for Hire (GirlxGirl)

1 | It All Started With A Ristretto

"No wonder you need a ristretto, something strong."

"Oh no, it's not for me," he gestured to the car waiting outside, "it's for her."

A Bugatti was parked outside, one that I had noticed most mornings, but had failed to connect to the tense man who had arrived every morning for the past who knows how long.

Inside sat a woman, her window down allowing her to look distastefully down the street. Even from a distance, she was beautiful. In a way that no matter how close you were to her, she would have still seemed as though she was just out of reach. Her eyes were dark, a color I couldn't pinpoint, feathered in lashes and simmering with an intensity that I couldn't quite articulate.

"Is that your wife?"

Violet's voice brought me back to the room, and my eyes snapped back to Christopher in an instant. She passed him his coffee as he hastily turned to leave.

"I work for her," he replied, making his way to the door in a hurry, "and she certainly does not swing my way. Even if she did, man, she's the bloody she-devil."

Violet stifled a laugh as Christopher swung the door open and exited the café.

"No wonder he's been a sweaty mess all this time."

"No wonder."

"That woman was beautiful," Violet looked at me, lips quirking, "a tyrant, obviously, but beautiful."

I ignored her suggestive gaze, scoffing, "she must be important, or at least certainly think that she's important. I mean, come on, a Bugatti? Don't the rich have somewhere better to put their money?"

"Well, they earnt it, didn't they? Shouldn't they be able to choose where to invest it," a lady chimed from the corner of the café, sipping her coffee and looking at Violet and I thoughtfully.

Kim Hartley. Another one of our regulars, who had sat in the corner of our café writing with a mug of coffee every day for the past year. Always watching Violet and I quietly. I never quite knew when she was listening, or what exactly she was listening for.

"But what about charities? Somewhere that would actually benefit people other than themselves?" I retaliated.

"But at the end of the day, it's their money, and they will buy whatever they feel will benefit them," she eyed me purposefully, gaze lingering before she looked back to her coffee, "and you'd be surprised with what the rich are willing to pay for."

~~~~~

I ran down the street that seemed to stretch forward, almost tauntingly. Snow was falling, leaving my fingers numb and my huffs of breath clouding the chill air. Late for work. Again. The White Swan Café came into view, and from its windows you could see clusters of figures. Shit. Violet was going to kill me. The breakfast rush had us swamped this morning by the looks of it. Bursting through the door, I grabbed my apron and made my way to the counter.

"That'll be $12.50." Violet smiled at the customers, although her smile was strained.

Her eyes locked with mine, and she raised her eyebrows scornfully, before she turned back towards the customers.

"Have a good day you two!" She called out to the couple, forcing a final smile before facing me. "You."

"I'm so sorry, I overslept- "

"For the goddamn breakfast rush?" She hissed.

She looked at me for a moment disapprovingly, before her lips curved into a smile and we both burst out laughing.