The Waitress With a PhD Who Silenced a Arrogant And Rude Billionaire
Chapter 11
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"By knowing the truth in here." Gloria placed her hand over Camille's heart. "The truth is, he's the small one. He's the one who needs to hurt others to feel big. You're already bigger than him. You just can't see it right now."Camille closed her eyes, letting her mother's words wash over her. She wanted to believe them. She wanted to feel big and valuable and worthy, but all she felt was tired.The next morning, Camille woke with a sense of dread. It was Friday, which meant a double shift at the restaurant: lunch and dinner, 12 hours on her feet, smiling and serving and swallowing her feelings.She helped her mother with breakfast and medications, then caught the early bus downtown. The Sterling Oak was quiet in the morning, the bright dining room empty except for staff preparing for lunch service.James was in the kitchen prepping vegetables. "Morning, Camille.""Morning.""You look exhausted.""Thanks," she said dryly.He grinned. "I meant it with love. Listen, about that Lancaster guy. You want me to accidentally drop his next meal on the floor? I'll make it look convincing."Despite her mood, Camille smiled. "No, but thank you for the offer."The lunch shift was manageable: regular customers, normal interactions, adequate tips. For a few hours, Camille almost felt like a regular person doing a regular job.Then 5:00 came, and with it, Theodore Lancaster.He wasn't supposed to be there; he only came on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But there he was, walking through the door in another perfect suit, heading straight for table seven. Mrs. Patterson seated him. Camille's heart sank.When she approached his table, Theodore looked up with that now-familiar cold smile. "Überraschung. Surprise. Ich dachte, ich würde Sie mit einem zusätzlichen Besuch beehren. I thought I'd bless you with an extra visit.""What can I get you to drink?" Camille asked, her voice flat."So enthusiastisch. So lebendig." He laughed, the sound devoid of real humor. "Bringen Sie mir einen Scotch. Bring me a Scotch. The most expensive you have. Not that you'd know the difference."Camille brought the drink. Theodore sipped it slowly, making comments in German the entire time: about her appearance, about her intelligence, about her worthlessness.And something inside Camille began to change. It was small at first, barely noticeable: a tightening in her chest, a warmth behind her eyes, a whisper in her mind that said,This has to stop.But she pushed it down. She had to. For her mother. For the job. For survival.Theodore ordered dinner and ate slowly, as always. Camille served him with mechanical efficiency. When he finally left, dropping another insulting tip on the table, she collected the money without expression.Bethany found her in the kitchen after the shift ended. "You're coming out with us tonight. No arguments.""I can't. My mother—"