The beginning of summer in Florida was hot. And working in a fast paced kitchen in one of the classiest restaurants in Fort Lauderdale didn't make it any easier. I could feel the sweat gathering under the long sleeve white shirt, my forehead needed constant wiping with a towel and I was sure that my make up was a mess at this point.

I watched the other waitresses in their short sleeve tops, bouts of envy welled within me that I couldn't expose my arms like that as well. But under these sleeves were secrets that I wasn't willing to reveal. That I couldn't reveal.

"Arian, table nine and seventeen please."

I turned around to the impatient snip that came from Michael — the assistant manager. Who knew what the hell his job was. He seemed to just stand around and watch all of the waitresses over work themselves while he kept pristine and free of that hard work sheen.

He gestured at the four plates that were lined up on the stainless steel surface. So I swept a few of my copper tendrils of hair from my damp face and managed to get three of the four plates in my hands. Michael placed the fourth on my forearm and I walked over to the kitchen doors and walked out backwards, just narrowly missing Jules — a friend and fellow waitress — as she came bustling back through.

As exhausting and hot as the job could be, I loved where I worked. The entire front of the restaurant was open with huge roller doors that allowed an indoor to outdoor transition without flaw. The beach was a mere walk across the road and the scent of the sea and delicious hot food made the long nights worth while.

The atmosphere was a huge part of why I had kept this job despite Michael being an over privileged perverted piece of shit. I dealt with a lot worse at home. One douchebag and his advances was nothing.

After I had set the plates down on the second table and wiped my clammy palms on the front of my apron, I turned in the direction of my third table with the intention of checking in and offering more beverages. But before I made it to the sweet old couple celebrating their anniversary, I noticed two men hovering near the maître D desk but Hailey was nowhere to be seen.

A quick sweep of the restaurant was no help and I muttered with frustration under my breath as I moved through the tables towards the two patrons that were waiting to be seated. I swiped my fingers underneath my eyes to rid some of the run mascara and quickly re tied my ponytail. Waitresses were supposed to upkeep appearances but the maître D needed to be pristine and I was not in the best shape of my shift.

"Welcome to Stella Pines," I exhaled as I reached behind the desk and snatched a few menus. "Sorry about the wait. Can—"

My sentence trailed off as I finally glanced up at the man who stood before me. He was tall with bronzed skin and rich brown hair that contrasted against his green gaze.

I'd heard about captivating eyes. Read about them in novels, the sort of stare that would render one speechless. But this was something else. His orbs were so rich. An emerald. The colour of gems in the fairy tales that we read.

He wore tailored suit pants and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. I snapped my jaw shut and shoved the menus into his hands as I attempted to reboot my brain which had malfunctioned entirely. "Can I seat you at a table or would you like to wait at the bar?"

He twisted and glanced over his shoulder and for some reason that evaded me, I took a moment to admire his large hands and perfect complexion. When he turned back around my eyes flickered up to meet his and again, I was floored. I had never seen such a beautiful colour before.

"We've hired the private dining room for the evening," he said and of course, in a cruel twist of fate, his voice did things to my stomach that left me somewhat breathless. "We have guests on the way. If you're able to send them through when they arrive?"

"Of course," I nodded with a smile that I was sure made me appear as though I'd popped a pill or two. "Just let me know if you need anything else."

His brows pulled together and a soft smile lifted his lips. "I've never been here before. I'm not sure where I'm meant to go."

"Oh," I flustered and blushed a rich red as I walked out from behind the desk. I wasn't used to leading people to and from. I could blame routine but the truth was simple, he had frazzled me. "Sorry, it's been a long shift."

"Not a problem Arian."

I was confused for a short moment as I lead him through the tables towards the back of the restaurant but then I remembered that I wore a name tag. My heeled booties tapped the hard wood floors as I moved through the sea inspired establishment. There was an almost casual beach vibe about our decor. But it wasn't a cheap eat and the food was five star.

I pushed open the retractable double doors that provided a private space for events. A long table for twelve was set up in the middle of the room. Candles flickered on small tables in the corners of the room, the lighting was ambient and pitchers of water were set up and waiting.

"Any special occasion," I questioned as the man and his friend took a seat. I hadn't paid much attention to the second guy. He appeared a little younger with velvet mocha skin and thick cropped hair.

"We're celebrating my thirtieth," the man explained as his elbows leaned on the surface and he clasped his hands in front of his chin. "It's technically tomorrow. But I was free tonight."

He smiled and I felt my breath hitch. "Your birthday is the third of June?"

"Yeah," he answered, still watching me without wavering. "Something special about that date?"

"Uh no," I lied, swallowing the lump in my throat. I shook off the unpleasant feeling that I felt and started to back out of the room. "Uh well I'll be back soon to collect your orders. . . Let me know if you need anything um—"

"Aiden," he filled in the blank with a small smile that left me feeling all sorts of wound up. "I'm Aiden."

As I nodded with understanding and turned to leave the room, I stole a brief glance at his friend who was watching Aiden with furrowed brows. I didn't give it a lot of attention though and rushed back to the kitchen, stopping at the table I was on my way to earlier to check on the patrons. When I pushed the kitchen doors open Michael seemed a little more flustered than usual.

"Where the hell have you been?" He snapped, smoothing down his almost white blonde hair that often sat in a styled quaf but had become somewhat dishevelled.

I strolled past him and picked up a waiting dish of entrees, breads and dips. "Hailey wasn't on the front desk and there were customers waiting to be seated so I had to help them. Should I have just left them stand—"

Michael gripped my forearm as I turned around and I froze, panic flaring and pain seizing me. He was muttering something. Whatever it was wasn't violent, I could hear his tone but the words were a blur because all that I could see was swarms of black dots dancing in front of me as I breathed through the panic.

This isn't Desmond. I told myself as I took deep breaths in and out. He's not going to hurt you.

"Michael," I spoke with a slight tremor but forced my focus to meet his frustrated glare. "Let go of me please."

His brows furrowed together but he dropped his hold and scoffed with impatience. "Hailey has been out on the floor doing her job, which is more than I can say for you," he snapped. "Tables. Now. And take care of the private dining room tonight."

"My shift ends soon," I argued with a small voice. "Jules can take the private dining room."

"Do you know who the man is that's celebrating here tonight?" He asked with incredulity.

"No," I shrugged. "Should I?"

He sighed and shook his head, waving his hands in dismissal. It was hard not to feel like a total peasant when he waved at me like a pestering animal. "Never mind. Just do your job. You can stay on late."

He didn't let me argue again, he turned around and stalked off with his long gangly legs. I started to panic as I walked the entrees out to the table that was waiting for them. I couldn't be home late. I couldn't.

I'd developed a skill for dealing with these onslaughts of panic. I was able to hide it with a polite smile and no one ever suspected that my heart was beating a million miles an hour. No one could tell that my stomach was in knots and if I let it, I'd lose my dinner. So when I opened the private dining room doors, Aiden and his guests were none the wiser.

A fair few more people had joined him. They appeared to be similar in age and dressed in sharp suits and nice dresses. There was a couple, a slim tall girl around my age I suspected — twenty four — and a handsome man that appeared to be her partner. He spent a lot of time on the beach, that was obvious. There were a few men that must have been business associates or friends and an older woman, possibly his mother.

I thought about what Michael said and became curious as to who this man was and what he did. There were two bottles of our most expensive wine on the table, uncorked and poured into glasses. I stood at the head of the table and whipped out a notepad, feeling the sensation of watching gazes. Which of course, I was used to. But when I glanced up, I noticed that Aiden was leaned back in his seat, his finger tips grazing his lip as he watched me with a narrow and curious stare.

"Hey everyone," I slapped on that fake confidence and gained the attention of the diners. "I'm Arian, your waitress for the evening. I'll just run through tonight's specials."

As I listed off our pasta, seafood and steak specials, I attempted to keep my eyes scanning over all of the tables occupants. But no matter what, my sights fell back on Aiden who never removed that small mysterious grin. It was unnerving, but exciting and I was doing what I could to control the shake in my hands as I read the small note on the back of my order pad.

"So is everyone ready to order," I smiled and glanced around at the faces who seemed indecisive still. Most of them glanced back down at their menus, a few discussed amongst each other.

But Aiden straightened up and nodded. "I'm good to go."

I felt my stomach do a little flip flop as I rounded the table to where he was sitting in the middle of the left side. He pushed his seat back a fraction and peered over his shoulder to where I stood behind him, waiting and attempting not to stare at the muscle definition that was clear under his white shirt.

"The pappardelle with sea urchin and cauliflower," he questioned, twisting in his seat after he'd read the menu. "How is it prepared and served?"

"Oh sure," I felt thrilled to be asked these questions. It was the one time that I could revert back to the studies and years that I spent in culinary school. There was always the kitchen at home, but it just wasn't the same. I'd dreamed of being a chef for a joint like this. But . . . when I met Desmond, that was all thwarted.

I delved into an explanation of the cuisine and tried to ignore the manner in which he watched me as I spoke. He didn't want to hear about just the one dish though. He asked about at least four of them and each time I provided a decent description of its preparation and flavours. "It's delicious," I eventually finished with a deep breath.

I realised that I was now leaning over, not all that far from that enchanting green gaze that I don't think I could ever get sick of staring at. He chuckled and closed his menu, handing it over. "I'll get the steak and chips please."

I gave him a curious look. Not sure why he'd been so intent on hearing about some of our more expensive dishes if he was just going to order steak and chips. But I shrugged and jotted it down, asking how he liked his steak cooked before I moved on to the rest of the table who were now — after waiting a while — ready to place their orders.

As soon as I was done I checked the clock and dashed back towards the kitchen where Jules was about to fetch a few waiting plates. I stuck the order to the metal grate before I called out. "Jules," I bowled up beside my brunette friend. Her pixie cut was pinned back at the front and she turned to me with puzzlement as I grabbed her arm. "Please cover the private dining table for me? I need to leave. Like now."

"Oh, sure," she nodded with enthusiasm. "I heard there's a big shot hottie eating in there."

"I don't know what that's about," I waved her off and gestured for her to follow me. She prattled on as we moved through the restaurant, talking about her man and their weekend plans. I didn't give it a lot of attention, which I felt terrible about. But my mind was focused on getting home before nine.

"Hey everyone," I chimed with a warm smile as I pushed through the doors and interrupted the low conversation that was being had. "This is Jules. She's going to be your waitress for the rest of the evening. Please let her know if there's anything that you need."

My gaze fell on Aiden who was watching me with his brows pulled together. I ignored the fact that he looked put out and gave Jules a caress on the shoulder, thanking her before I all but ran out of the room.

I didn't let anyone talk to me as I gathered my things from the staff room and slipped out the back door. Michael would be upset for not doing as he asked but it didn't matter. I would rather deal with his frustration, than Desmond's.