The Waitress With a PhD Who Silenced a Arrogant And Rude Billionaire
Chapter 13
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But the walls she built were starting to crack.It was a Tuesday evening, the restaurant moderately busy, when Theodore arrived with a date. She was young, maybe 25, with blonde hair styled in waves and a pink dress that probably cost more than Camille's monthly rent. The woman looked nervous, clutching a small purse and smiling too brightly.Mrs. Patterson seated them at table seven. Camille approached, notepad ready. "Good evening. Can I start you with drinks?"Theodore barely looked at her. "Champagner," he said, then switched to English for his date's benefit. "The good French one. Not that domestic nonsense.""Of course, sir."As she walked away, she heard Theodore switch back to German: "Entschuldigen Sie den Service. Das Personal hier ist begrenzt." Excuse the service. The staff here is limited.The woman's response was too quiet to hear, but her expression said she was uncomfortable.Camille brought the champagne, a bottle of Veuve Clicquot that cost $300. Theodore made a show of tasting it, nodding approval, then pouring a glass for his date."So, tell me about yourself," Theodore said to the woman, speaking English now. "Your profile mentioned you work in marketing."The woman launched into a nervous explanation of her job. Theodore listened with half his attention, his eyes occasionally drifting to his phone. When the woman paused, he would make a comment that sounded interested, but wasn't really.Camille took their order: filet mignon for him, salmon for her. As she wrote, Theodore switched to German again:"Sie glaubt wahrscheinlich, das sei eine echte Verbindung. Das arme Ding." She probably thinks this is a real connection. Poor thing. He gestured at his date, who was smiling hopefully at him. Then he looked at Camille. "Aber Sie verstehen das, nicht wahr? Sie verstehen, was es bedeutet, unsichtbar zu sein. Unwichtig zu sein." But you understand, don't you? You understand what it means to be invisible. To be unimportant.Something in his tone was different tonight—not just cruel, but almost philosophical, like he was genuinely curious about what it felt like to be beneath him.Camille's hand tightened on her notepad, but she kept her expression neutral. "I'll have your orders right out."In the kitchen, her hands were shaking. James noticed immediately. "What happened?""Nothing. Just... nothing." She set down her notepad and took a deep breath.Bethany came in carrying an empty tray. "Is Lancaster here? With a date?"Camille confirmed."Poor woman." Bethany shook her head. "Why do terrible men always get dates?""Because they're rich," James said flatly. "Money covers a lot of sins."Camille brought the meals to table seven. The woman was talking about a marketing campaign she'd worked on, clearly trying to impress Theodore. He was scrolling through his phone, making occasional humming sounds that might have been agreement or nothing at all.