CEO Calls The Waitress A Liar About Speaking 9 Languages — Until Three Words Leave Him Silent
Chapter 9
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"I... I accept, Mr. Adler," she managed to say.Sterling nodded, his face a grim mask. "She will be there. My office, 10:00 a.m." He looked at her again, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of regret, awe, and something else she couldn't quite decipher. "Miss Vance, we will speak tomorrow."He turned and walked back to his table. "We're leaving," he said to his stunned colleagues.Thorne started to protest, but Sterling cut him off with a single brutal glare. They gathered their things and fled the restaurant, leaving a half-eaten meal and a shattered sense of superiority in their wake.As soon as they were gone, the restaurant erupted in a low roar of conversation. Elara felt a hundred pairs of eyes on her, no longer looking through her, but at her. She was no longer a ghost.Mr. Adler smiled—a genuine, warm expression this time. "Well, Frau Vance, I believe your shift here is over. Permanently, if you wish." He slid a business card across the table. "My personal assistant's number is on the back. Call her in the morning. She will arrange for a car to bring you to Mr. Sterling's office, and we'll discuss the terms of your compensation."Elara took the card. The heavy linen stock felt foreign in her fingers, which were calloused from carrying trays. "Thank you, Mr. Adler. You have no idea what this means.""Oh, I think I do," he said kindly. "Talent should be recognized, no matter where one finds it."She excused herself from their table and walked toward the staff locker room on legs that felt like jelly. As she passed the service station, Mr. Dubois simply stared at her, his face a comical blend of fear and awe. She was no longer the lowly waitress he could torment; she was someone else entirely.In the cramped, fluorescent-lit locker room, she leaned against the cool metal, taking her first full, deep breath of the night. Her hands were trembling. She looked at her reflection in the small, cracked mirror: the same tired face, the same cheap eyeliner, the same plain brown hair pulled back in a severe bun. But the eyes staring back at her were different: they were shining with a fierce, terrified, triumphant light.