Chapter 67

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He lets out a defeated and frustrated breath.

I try to hold back a smile but it proves difficult especially when I want to jump up and down and scream with joy.

"One bread," he tells me.

No way! "Three."

"Two."

I'm about to negotiate two and a half but he speaks up before I can. "And you're eating the other two."

"No. That isn't what we agreed on," I complain, following after him as he walks into the kitchen.

"It is now."

I jump in front of him with my hands on my hips. "Nope." A piece of hair falls and latches onto my lashes. I puff out a breath but it only comes back.

His hands come up to push the stray lock away, his lips twitching as if he's fighting back a smile. "Yes."

My glare deep—

Light bulb!

I whirl around and pull the stool out and then almost like a dance, I dramatically stretch my arm out toward it. "For you, sir."

Damien chuckles lightly. "What are you doing?"

I feign clueless. "My job as your waitress, sir. Please take a seat." I pull the chair out a little more.

Smiling and shaking his head, he takes a seat. I struggle to push in the chair, pushing and heaving my body against it. It doesn't budge. Not even a scrape.

"I think you're supposed to do that as I'm lowering myself onto the chair."

Ohhhhh. I almost make him do it again just so I can do it right. But as a waitress that would be very unprofessional of me.

Hold on a second, waitresses don't push in customers chairs.

I come to his side and bring up my hand and pretend it's got a notepad in it and a pen in the other. "Now  what would you like with your toast, tea or apple juice?" I'm quick to rectify my mistake. "If you pick tea I have to let you know our cafe hates lazy people so we bring the kettle and the milk and the tea bag and the sugar to you."

He holds up his bandaged hand. "I've hurt my hand."

"Good thing you've got a spare hand then isn't it." I don't deter.

I can tell from the puzzled look on his face I won. With a triumphant smile, I move over to the kettle and fill it up with water before turning it on.

As it's doing that, I turn and lean against the counter. He takes his first bite of the toast and I'm filled with so much happiness my face feels like it's going to rip apart.

He swallows the bite then points to the stool next to his using the bread. "Sit down."

I shake my head my smile not wavering. "I'm sorry sir, I cant. Work protocols."

"Rose, sit down and eat the other two bread," he demands.

I lean forward a little and whisper. "I'll get fired. Sir."

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