Pawn of the Billionaire(3)

He’d obviously started online while I was still having the conversation with my father.

“Yes. Good idea. I wonder if …” I frowned. “Maybe ask them to start with titles that have gone extinct. If there’s no one holding the title now, the girl may be more inclined to think she’s as much right as anyone to get one, even if it’s not the same as she might have inherited if girls counted then.”

“Yes, sir.” Lawrence glanced at the clock. “It’s still very early in London. Your father must have been worried to have been up at this time.” He moved back to his desk. “Anyway, I’ll contact them first thing in the morning. Would you want me to research finishing schools then too?”

I nodded. “Yes. Thanks, Lawrence. You get off now. I’ll go down for dinner in a moment.”





Toni





I screwed my hair back into an untidy bun and made a face at myself in the small mirror that was just too low to see my face in unless I stooped. God! I hated my life at the moment. Long hours, crap job, too tired in the evenings to study my way out and onto better things.

But I had to keep this job, keep this roof over my head, and my bills paid. It was lucky that I only lived a few minutes walk from the diner. Most rooms this close to the hospital were too expensive, but nurses wouldn’t stand for crap places like this. I looked around with disgust at where I had to live. It was hard to keep it clean, all the surfaces were so grimy from years of neglect. And there was no storage for my belongings, even though I didn’t have much.

I gritted my jaw. I would get out of this somehow. I really would. I’d got a great idea. I just had to make it work. I shrugged my shoulders into my coat and held it tightly around myself as I strode along the sidewalk, head down against the usual rain. Even when it wasn’t raining here in San Francisco, it was so humid, I usually wished it was raining.

Turning into the diner, I was hit by the warmth from the kitchen and the stale, greasy smell from the back storage area. I didn’t have long before some of the families would be in for breakfast. They had such bad luck with their sick kids, and most of them had little money left for their own food. The hospital cafeteria cost too much, so they’d come in here. Some of them came back month after month, a long downward spiral of losing hope. Then they’d stop coming, and I’d know that they’d lost their child. I shivered as I hung my coat up. It was depressing. I had to stop getting too involved in people’s lives.

I swung through to the kitchen. “Morning, Pete.” The junior chef’s life was probably worse than mine, and I tried to keep his spirits up and the atmosphere sweet.

He glanced up. “Hello, Toni. Nearly ready.” He was so nice. A bacon sandwich each morning meant I didn’t have to have breakfast before I came to work.

“Thanks, hun. I’ll make some tea.” I shoved the teapot under the urn and grabbed a couple of teabags. It was relaxed here until about nine when Marco the owner would show up.

I went back out to the front. Checking that all the chairs were set straight and the night girl had wiped the tables down properly, I wondered if that chap in the suit from yesterday would be back.

He’d been so out of place, sitting silently. Typing on a laptop, for God’s sake! In here. He stuck out while he sat watching, drinking three mugs of coffee. He’d given me the shivers, though. I’d felt he was watching me, and I couldn’t think why.

I’d even asked Marco if it was him, arranging to check up on me, and he’d growled at me.

“I can watch you for myself, girl. You’re all right here, even if you do talk too much to the customers. At least it means they keep loyal.”

I’d had to accept that as a back-handed compliment, and I’d shrugged off thoughts of the odd guy, and carried on with my day.

I went to the back and took a bite from my sandwich before pouring out the tea. I took Pete his mug while he was busy topping up the oil in the fryer. Then I heard the main door swing open.

“Here we go.” I stopped for another bite, and swallowed it quickly before going through. These were a couple I knew from the last few weeks. They were with another couple, who stood nervously behind them.

I smiled. “Good morning.” I looked the first woman in the eye. “What sort of night did he have?”

“Oh, not so bad.” Her face was thin and anxious. “He starts a new round of chemo today and he’s really cross.”

“Oh, you poor things.” I led them over to their usual table. “They always take it out on their parents.”

“I know. We had to get out for a bit.” She shivered. “We’ll be busy the rest of the day.”