Meeting Mr. Mogul(6)

"Here's your stuff," Terry said as he held out my bag and jacket. "Do  you need a ride? Or a shower perhaps?" he asked as he pinched the bridge  of his nose.

I looked at him sternly for a second before getting a whiff of myself. I  cringed at how badly I smelled. I reeked of beer (though I never drank  last night), sweat, and a whole lot of other things. Basically, I  smelled like someone who had a rough night. Glancing back at him, I gave  him a grim smile and gestured for him to wait a second. Shortly after  that, I sprinted to the bathroom to freshen up. When I finally had a  good look at myself in the mirror, I jolted in surprise once I saw my  reflection. I almost didn't recognize myself. Maybe I was just  overreacting, but I think I looked like a caveman with my fuzzy hair and  dark eye bags.   





 

I sighed for a second before showering really quickly. I brushed my  teeth after and then tried very hard to straighten my hair, which I  ended up styling into a messy bun anyway. Lastly, I changed into fresh  clothes in less than fifteen minutes. When I was done, it didn't take  long for us to be on the road.

I accepted Terry's offer this time around, since it was already noon. I  was already late than usual. On the ride there, I prepared a bunch of  excuses on why I was late. It's quite hard to convince someone who knows  you inside and out and could tell if you lied.

"Hey, Dad. Terry is with me today," I greeted once I entered the room. He was watching reruns again.

"Hi, Mr. Peterson. How are you today?" Terry greeted as he followed me  inside, bringing a box of goodies as gift. The truth was I bought those  as a peace offering in case my alibi didn't go well.

"Terry! I'm doing good, son. How are you? Is my daughter behaving well?"  my father asked, muting the television as he turned to face us.

"I'm fine, Mr. Peterson. Andy is behaving like an angel, as always,"  Terry replied with a smile. The sarcasm in his voice was thick.

I eyed him for a second and rolled my eyes. "Dad, did Dr. Stanley finish his rounds already?" I asked, changing the topic.

"You just missed him," he replied nonchalantly, but kept his eyes on me  like he was studying my expression. "Do you like him?" he asked after a  moment.

"What?! Where did you get that idea?" I asked, shocked by his question.

"No reason. I just wanted to know your reaction," my father replied  calmly, and then increased the volume again. I sighed in relief and sat  on my usual chair.

Terry stayed with us for a while, but excused himself after mouthing  that Andrew wanted to meet up. I simply nodded at him in consent. For  the rest of the afternoon, my father and I just watched his favorite  reruns. It seemed as if he wasn't angry about my tardiness, or if he  was, he did a good job hiding it. A couple of shows later, I rose from  my seat and told him I was going. That's when he finally spoke up.

"Why were you late this morning?" he asked.

"I was late because I overslept. I know it's unlike me, but I was doing  some extra work last night," I replied, holding up a finger, as a sign  for him to stop when he opened his mouth to interject. This was the  excuse I decided to use because there was a little bit of truth to it,  hopefully to cover up the real reason.

"Oh. Okay. Just don't drain yourself. And get some sleep. If you're too  tired to visit, you should just stay home and rest, you know." He looked  and sounded worried.

"I'm alright, Dad. You don't have to worry so much," I replied, giving him a hug to hide my solemn expression.

I didn't prolong my stay, so I said goodbye and rushed out of the room.  On the ride back to Terry's place, I was mostly spaced out. My thoughts  were preoccupied with my father's condition. I never wanted to lie to  him, but if I told him the truth, it would make him worry even more and  probably worsen his condition. I felt miserable every time I did that.  Back then, I never lied to him. But now, I'm lying to him more and more,  and it hurts every time I keep doing that to him.

It didn't take long for Terry to notice my mood when we arrived at work.  When I didn't make a move to remove the helmet, he frantically waved  his hands in front of me.

"Earth to Andy! Are you awake?" he asked, snapping his fingers when I didn't respond.

I simply looked at him with a smirk. "I'm fine, Terry. Just slightly worn out," I admitted glumly but with a smile on my face.

"I think you need some chocolate mousse cake to cheer you up. And you're  in luck. I know where to get one," he stated with a reassuring smile.

"You know that is not allowed, right?" My eyebrow rose up in surprise at  the implication that he'd just grab one of the cakes in the restaurant.

"Don't worry. I'm buying it in case they find out," he replied as his  smile broadened. I hopped out of his motorcycle. He reached out for my  helmet, taking it from me.

I smirked in reply, not knowing what to say after that. We got in the  restaurant and went straight to our lockers and changed into our  uniform. It consisted of a plain, white polo and black slacks paired  with black shoes. Management provided everything after one was accepted  to the job.   





 

My evening started uneventfully, like yesterday. I was glad that there  were no douchebags seated on my section, but I couldn't say the same for  Terry. When I met him by the computer to punch in an order, he was  mumbling to himself in a silent rage.

"Are you alright?" I asked when I reached him, giving him a light pat on the back.

He replied with a frustrated sigh as he continued to type in the written  orders in his small notepad. When he was finished, he glanced up at me  and gave me a grim smile. "I'm not," he replied softly, his smile not  reaching his eyes.

"Which table?" I asked, already knowing the reason for his sour mood.

"Nineteen," he stated, his voice unusually low from trying to maintain  control. I could see from the way he clenched his teeth and his hands  balled into fists that he was on the brink of losing it.

"What did he do?" I asked calmly as I quickly glanced at the table. The  customer looked like every other businessman present in the room,  wearing the usual dark navy suit without a tie. There was a short pause  as I continued to assess the man. So, I turned to look at Terry but he  really wasn't in the mood for a recap.

"Tell me about it later in the bar. We can drink it off," I offered as I  gave him one last comforting pat before taking his place in the  computer.

This made him smirk and chuckle a little. "Wow. I didn't know that one  night in a bar could change you into this kind of woman, Andy."

"It didn't. I was just humoring you," I countered with a grin.

He snorted in reply, his smile still in place. With a final shake of his  head, he walked towards the counter where trays of food were present. I  worriedly looked at his retreating figure for a second before getting  back to business. When I finished typing my set of orders, I noticed  Reyna ushering a new customer to a reserved table.

As my eyes finally reached the man's face, I stiffened. His dirty blond  hair was slicked back and his dark gray silk suit, with a black polo  underneath, snugly fitted him. He looked like one of those moguls on the  cover of a lifestyle or business magazine. William Maxwell. The man  with the power to fire me from both my jobs and perhaps make it  difficult for me to get another one in a city he mostly owns. A man I  don't want to be enemies with, although that is getting harder every  time we meet.

Mr. Mogul, which was quite an apt title for him, was seated in the same  table he occupied on his last visit. I've learned my lesson after that  first encounter, so I ignored him and entertained the rest of the tables  in my section except his. He, too, ignored my presence for a while,  until he condescendingly snapped his fingers when I passed by, adding  fuel to the fire.

I resisted the urge to shout as I turned to him with my best fake smile. "Is there something you need, sir?" I asked.

He wasn't able to reply right away as his phone vibrated on the table,  getting his full attention. I wanted to walk away after that, but he  held his finger up as a signal for me to wait. I waited for him to  finish his call, all the while trying to control my temper.

When he was finally done, he didn't bother looking at me. Instead, he  glanced down at the menu in front of him and remained silent for another  minute, as if he had all the time in the world. I wanted to smack the  man in the head right then and there, but he suddenly looked up. A pair  of clear sky blue eyes stared directly at me.

"Have you finally figured out who I am?" he asked firmly, his familiar British accent thick and his voice deep.

"There wasn't much choice on my part," I replied in the same tone and looked back at him gravely.

"How so?" he asked, his lips in a smirk.

This man is trying to test what little patience I have left. "Well, I  had to find out sometime, since I do work here. I mean, what kind of an  employee would I be if I don't know who my employer is?" My self-control  was starting to wear thin.