Chapter 2 - The Billionaire's Questions
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The silence in the restaurant was heavy, broken only by the clinking of silverware against porcelain. I ate quickly, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on my plate, terrified that if I looked up, the illusion would shatter.
Chloe, however, possessed none of my fearful restraint.
“This is the best steak in the whole world,” she announced, her mouth half-full, pointing her fork at James. “Did you make it?”
“I did,” James nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. “I used to be a line cook a long time ago, before I bought the building.”
I stopped chewing. The billionaire CEO of Whitmore Hospitality had been a line cook? The rumor around the staff was that he came from old, untouchable money.
“You’re a very good cooker,” Chloe praised him, taking another massive bite of potatoes. “Mommy usually just makes us noodles. Sometimes we have toast for dinner when the noodles run out.”
“Chloe,” I gasped, my face flushing scarlet. “Please eat your food.”
James leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn't look at me with pity, which somehow made the exposure even worse. He looked at me with an intense, calculated curiosity.
“How long have you been working the night shift, Grace?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.
“Six months, sir,” I answered, staring at my hands in my lap. “Ever since the daytime daycare closed. I have to stay home with her during the day, so I clean at night while she sleeps.”
“And her father?”
The question felt like a physical blow. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“He left before she was born,” I said softly, refusing to let the tears fall. “It’s just the two of us.”
James stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. The silence stretched until it felt like a taught wire ready to snap. He looked at my worn-out shoes, the fraying cuffs of my coat, and the exhaustion permanently etched into my face.
He didn't offer empty sympathies. He didn't tell me things would get better.
May you like
He simply reached across the table, took my empty plate, and stacked it neatly on top of Chloe’s.
“Get your things,” James commanded, standing up and grabbing the plates. “My driver is waiting outside. I’m taking you both home.”
