Chapter 2 Insults at First Glance

"Who on earth parked that junk right next to my car?!"

A booming male voice echoed through the air. Ah, New York! It was just another chaotic Monday. Couldn't people get their acts together? But no, they thrived on the drama, as if it were their lifeblood.

"Ally!"My boss' irritated voice cut through the noise. "Ugh, I can't stand this place," I sighed, even though I desperately needed the paycheck.

"I heard you, missy," he teased back.

"Whatever," I grumbled under my breath, hoping he wouldn't hear. "Coming!" I shouted, hoping it was loud enough to muffle his ears. If only it worked.

It's not that I disliked my boss; he was just a stern, no-nonsense kind of guy. My role at his diner was to serve tables, not to be his cleaning crew. Since I started working there, he'd piled on the extra chores, like scrubbing the restrooms and the kitchen. Seriously, who does that? Right, my grumpy, old boss. Some days, I couldn't help but think he was put on this planet just to make my life miserable.

"Snap out of it, missy!" he barked, more of a shout. I was grateful to dodge a few droplets of saliva that flew my way. This man could use a lesson in hygiene and manners.

"Go help, Mr. Reynolds. Some idiot parked their car too close and even managed to scratch his. That person is in serious trouble. He's Reynolds, for crying out loud-he could get away with anything. There was a ti-"

"Mr. who?" I interrupted.

"Reynolds, Ally. You've never heard of him?" His surprise was evident in his tone.

"Clearly," I muttered.

"Well, he just purchased this building from Sir Philips. So technically, he's our landlord now."

"Fantastic," I replied, my disinterest evident.

"Enough with the attitude, young lady. I can't believe you're unaware of who he is. Ally, do you even live on this planet? This is unbelievable, you're unbelievable, dear. The Reynolds family owns more than half of New York. They're the wealth-"

"Excuse me, about the assistance?" I quickly interjected. Did I mention he tends to ramble on? Seriously, he could go on for two days without stopping.

"Yes, about that. Now, off you go." He waved me away like I was a child begging for sweets.

So infuriating.

I made my way to the parking lot to find Mr. Reynolds, and to my surprise, he was standing next to my car-more like seething.

I couldn't see his face as he had his back turned to me, but it was clear he had an impressive physique. His backside was quite appealing, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of desire.

What was wrong with me? Here I was, daydreaming about a man I had never even met. I needed to seriously get a grip.

Clearing my throat, I said, "Mr. Campbell sent me to assist you, sir. He mentioned you needed help, and I'm here to provide it." I counted my fingers to shake off the nerves.

"Move this junk out of my way," he snapped. Wow, his voice was something else-deep and husky, definitely captivating.

Hold on a minute, he just referred to my car as junk! Nobody disrespects my baby. There was no way I was going to let that slide, especially after all the thoughts I had about him. His infuriatingly attractive self. Ugh.

What a jerk.

"Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds, just because you drive a luxury car doesn't make this 'junk' any less of a vehicle. Both of the cars are engaged in the same activity, and it's called driving, but I suppose that concept escapes you since your ego seems to be your closest companion," I shot back, matching his hostility. What an insufferable egotist.

In a fit of rage, he spun around, eyes blazing.

"Who. The. Hell. Are. You. To. Dictate. My. Actions? Do you have any idea who I am, little girl?"

"Little?" I scoffed in disbelief. "You're probably older than me with a few years." I spat, my irritation bubbling over.

"Just so you know, I could destroy your life in an instant. In mere seconds, I could turn your world into a nightmare with a simple snap of my fingers. No one challenges me and gets away unscathed, and you? You're teetering on the edge, and trust me, you're the one who's going to get hurt. I'm Trevor Reynolds, CEO of a multi-billion dollar enterprise. Got that? I wield billions!" he declared, his pride peeking through.

Wow, a billionaire. He was striking, no less, with eyes that shimmered like silver-intense and captivating. His perfectly chiseled face, dark hair with a stylish swoosh, and sun-kissed tan screamed bad boy allure. His angular jaw and slightly crooked nose only added to his rugged charm. Those thick, dark eyebrows framed his mesmerizing eyes, adorned with lashes that would make any woman envious. He was undeniably worth a second glance; I couldn't deny it, I was inexplicably drawn to this arrogant man standing before me. Was he waiting for an answer? Because he didn't expect me to say "I'm sorry sir," I sure wasn't.

"Mr. Reynolds, can we discuss this like mature adults?" I decided to play the role of the peacemaker. Goody-two shoes, if you know what I mean.

"What we need to address is your responsibility to pay me five thousand dollars for the little accident you caused, Miss." He fired back in one breath.

If only I had done what he said, none of this would have happened. He might have let me off the hook, and I wouldn't be stuck facing such an outrageous bill for a mere scratch. If only I had kept my mouth shut.

Where on earth was I supposed to find that kind of money? I was drowning in debt, scraping by with two dead-end jobs, while this incredibly wealthy, attractive man demanded a ridiculous sum from my broke self. It was just a minor scratch, and he was more than capable of handling it himself. He was loaded, for crying out loud! Was he sent to make my life miserable, just like that old Campbell?

"Sir, I simply don't have that kind of money. I'm just a waitress, for heaven's sake!" I retorted, frustration spilling over.

"Your options are either that or you come to work for me. Choose what works best for you," he said, handing me a business card. "This has my office details, reach out to me when you've made your decision. In just two days, Miss. Two days." He gestured for me to move my car away from his 'premium' vehicle.

Once I finished, he strode to his car without even a word of thanks. Seriously? He shot me one last look before slipping into his Mercedes-Maybach S 680 4MATIC and speeding off, leaving me in a cloud of dust and resentment.

Two days!

Five thousand dollars or a job with him.

Stupid options.

Ugh! What the hell was I supposed to do? In my state of shock, I lingered in the driveway for what felt like fifteen minutes until old Campbell came looking for me. Hunting for me.

I needed some time to sort through my thoughts and process everything. Nobody could give me a heart attack, not even some handsome hunk.

Well, maybe Captain America could.