The Waitress With a PhD Who Silenced a Arrogant And Rude Billionaire
Chapter 9
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His companions shifted uncomfortably. The woman, red-haired with sharp features, said, "Theodore, maybe we should just order in English.""Nonsense. This is part of the experience." Theodore gestured at Camille dismissively. "Sie ist daran gewöhnt, nicht wahr? She's used to it. Isn't that right?"Camille kept her expression neutral. "I'll bring the champagne."In the kitchen, James was plating orders with angry precision. "That guy again?""With friends this time," Camille said."I hate him," Bethany declared, carrying a tray of salads. "Like, genuinely hate him. How do you stand it?""Because I have to," Camille said simply.She brought the champagne, an expensive French label that cost $200. Theodore made a show of tasting it, nodding his approval, then launching into a story in German about a business deal he'd closed that week. Throughout the story, he made side comments about Camille: how she was probably dreaming of affording champagne someday; how service work was perfect for people with limited options; how some people were simply born to serve, while others were born to be served.His companions grew increasingly uncomfortable. The red-haired woman kept looking at Camille apologetically. The younger man stared at his menu. Only the third associate, an older man with gray temples, seemed to find Theodore's performance amusing.Camille took their orders and delivered them to the kitchen. She moved through the evening on autopilot, her mind somewhere else. She'd gotten good at that: at being physically present while mentally absent.Around 8:30, during a brief lull, Mrs. Patterson pulled her aside. "Table seven needs more wine," the owner said. Then, more quietly, "Are you all right, Camille?""Yes, ma'am."Mrs. Patterson studied her for a moment. "He's good for business. The bills he runs up feed three families for a week. But if you want me to say something to him, I will."Camille was surprised by the offer. Mrs. Patterson wasn't known for her warmth. "Thank you, but it's fine. Really.""You're one of my best servers," Mrs. Patterson said. "Professional, punctual, never complains. I don't want to lose you.""You won't," Camille promised.She brought more wine to table seven. Theodore was in the middle of another story, this one about a competitor he'd crushed. The German flowed smoothly, his voice confident and commanding."Und das Beste daran ist," he said, "and the best part is they never saw it coming. Just like our little waitress here never sees when I'm talking about her."He looked directly at Camille as he said it, a small smile playing at his lips.Something flickered in Camille's chest—not anger, not yet, but something close: a tiny spark of resistance she'd been carefully smothering for weeks. She poured the wine, her movements precise, and walked away without responding.