Meeting Mr. Mogul(2)

After solving that mystery on my own, I went back to work without having  those thoughts lingering in my head. Before I resumed my job, however, I  got one last look at the man when he finished his meal. I noticed, yet  again, that the manager was the only person attending to him. I also  noticed that he didn't pay any bill, which was odd. But since it was the  manager who served him, that would be his problem not mine.

When the customer got up from his table, I got a full view of him. He  was tall, for one thing. And I was right about his muscular build. He  stood straight, indicating an aura of confidence. I wanted to hurl and  crush that confidence, though. One thing I knew about men like him is  they wear their arrogance like armor and think that people who aren't in  the same social class are beneath them.

As the man got out of the restaurant, the thick air of unease around me  suddenly lifted. I let out a sigh of relief. I couldn't help wishing  that the man never came back. But if he does, I'm glad it's the  manager's sole responsibility to serve him.

After the restaurant closed, the staff lingered as the manager called  our attention for a meeting. My guess was it had something to do with  tonight's encounter with Mr. Asshole. And my suspicion was confirmed  when Reyna was called. I felt bad that the whole staff was present while  the manager scolded her. It was like watching a strict professor  scolding a student about a failed exam. Not a good scene to watch.

"Everyone can go," the manager said after his lecture. "Andy, can I talk  to you for a minute?" he added as he looked at me, gesturing me with  his finger to come forward.

Some of the staff lingered for a while, but walked away when the manager  and I stood there, watching them all walk out of the room. I caught  Terry's eye and gave him a small smile. In reply, he smiled back and  mouthed something that seemed like ‘Your key'.

"I'm so sorry about my outburst, Andy. I could see that you were offended by it," the manager said after the room was emptied.

I simply looked at him, stunned. And here I thought he would be scolding  me. "No. It's okay. I'm new here, so I'm not familiar with the regulars  yet," I replied with the same excuse I gave to Mr. Overconfident.

"Oh! You don't know who he is?" he asked, looking surprised.

I gave him a shy smile. "In truth, I don't. Should I know who he is?" I  asked back and bit my lips afterwards, cringing at his reaction.

He chuckled and patted my shoulders. "That man was our boss. I thought  everyone knew who he was. You lived further away from here than I  thought," he stated as he walked away from me towards his office.

I was slightly confused about what he had said. Before I could ask, he  was already out of hearing range. So, I went back to the locker room  without any answer. When I finished changing into normal clothes, which  consisted of my white shirt, regular jeans, and black sneakers, I opened  the back door and was startled at the sight of a man's back. I gaped at  the figure for a second as my mind tried to register who it was.

"Hey! Oh, sorry for startling you. What did the manager want from you?" Terry asked as he turned around.   





 

I let out a sigh of relief and gave him a grim smile. "Do you know that man our manager served this evening?"

"Which one?" he asked in confusion.

"You know, the tall, blond, and muscular one in a black suit, looking  all sexy and arrogant," I explained further, glumly describing the man  to refresh his memory.

He smirked at me, his eye twinkling in amusement. "I know who you are  talking about. I was just curious about your thoughts on the boss,"  Terry said after I paused to look at him.

I punched him lightly in the shoulder, feeling annoyed at his trickery.  "God. You're lame sometimes," I remarked and shook my head.

When I moved here in the city, Terry was the only person who helped me  out. For a stranger, who is not much of a stranger by now, he had grown  on me. I knew him through a friend of my father, Billy (who is a very  talkative, and mostly drunk, person). If I needed help or a place to  stay, he told me to contact Terry. With a non-existent bank account and  no savings whatsoever, I'm practically broke, which makes finding an  apartment close to impossible. So, I took Billy's advice, called a  stranger for help, and lived with Terry ever since.

So here I am now, riding a motorcycle back to his flat. Sure, his place  wasn't what I'd classify as five stars (maybe two stars, at best), but  it was all I've got. I made a place for myself in his living room couch,  so I cooked for him in exchange. But I drew the line at doing his  laundry when we made this unspoken contract. To be honest, Terry is a  nice roommate and a true gentleman. I think that's great considering I  don't need another man trouble, which was my first fear when I agreed to  do this. I already have enough problems as it is.

"Do you want some midnight snacks?" Terry asked when we finally reached the apartment building.

"You just had to ask now that we are already home," I replied  sarcastically after taking my helmet off, which he bought at a garage  sale. It still reeks even after I've washed it twice, but it was better  than nothing.

"So?" he asked, unaffected by my mood. He looked at me mischievously, waiting for my reply.

"Get me pizza and a cola, but then I'm sleeping in after. No clubbing  for me tonight," I replied, knowing what he implied as his eyes twinkled  and his lips twitched into a smile.

"Why do you always think that I'm inviting you to go to a club or a  party?" he asked, looking taken aback by my words, although amusement  still danced in his eyes.

"You aren't?" I asked in mock surprising, playing along with this charade.

He chuckled at my reaction and shook his head. "Even though you've only  known me for a month, you got me just like that," he snapped his fingers  for emphasis. "So, are you coming?" he added, looking at me with  pleading eyes.

"You are seriously going to ask me again after a month of doing the same  routine. Get a clue, Terry. You know it's not my scene," I snorted. It  was always the same every night.

"Well, your loss," he stated in defeat as he put his helmet back on.  "I'll bring your pizza when I get back - if there are stores still  open," he added but the helmet muffled his words.

"Why don't we go get some food first next time?" I offered, looking at him gravely.

"That's because I'm only humoring you with these talks. Besides, I don't  like pizza." He cracked in laughter as he started the engine.

Before I could comment back, he was already speeding away on the main  road. I stood there with a smile, looking at the empty space where his  motorcycle had been. Men have such a carefree nature. They are never too  complicated, but are jerks when they have the opportunity.





Two





I woke up the next morning to my phone alarm beeping in tune with my  throbbing head. This is the result of always sleeping late at night and  waking up so early in the morning. Five hours of sleep is not enough for  anyone who loves to sleep.

Careful not to make any noise, I tiptoed to the bathroom. I freshened up  and silently made breakfast as I let Terry sleep in. After I cooked  breakfast and washed the dishes, I left Terry's food on the counter and  covered it to keep it warm. Next, I went back on the couch and turned on  the television, which was on mute so I wouldn't wake Terry. Basically,  this was my routine every morning.   





 

When I heard the soft thud and light creak of a door, I knew Terry was up. I waited for him to appear before saying anything.

"I'll be going to the hospital early today, if you don't mind," I said  as he passed the living room going to the kitchen counter. Though he  knew this already, I still felt obliged to tell him my whereabouts.

"Since you cooked, I can peacefully let you go," he replied, his voice still slurry from sleepiness.

I shook my head in amusement at his reply and turned my attention back  to the television, increasing the volume. I left Terry to do his routine  and waited for him to come back in the living room, looking alive and  presentable.

"So, how was last night? Did you get laid this time?" I asked when he  reappeared with his usual black shirt and faded jeans. He had such manly  taste in clothes.

"No, I didn't. I'm still not ready for any of that," he replied as he sunk on the couch beside me, sighing in defeat.

"You never told me who you are dating. I don't want to pry, but you keep  having these moods every morning, and I'm running out of advices for  you," I barked in frustration, setting the TV on mute again and faced  him. "So, tell me."

"Do you really want to know that much?" he asked, his eyebrow raised in question.

"Yes. I think we've been together long enough, and some secrets are  bound to be revealed. So, let's get this out of the way. You tell me  about the person you are dating and I tell you something about myself." I  offered, looking at him dead in the eyes. "Do we have a deal?" I asked,  offering my hand to shake his.