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A Furtive Romance With A Billionaire

A Furtive Romance With A Billionaire

Darla Tverdohleb

Last update: 1970-01-01

Chapter 1

  • Peri’s dark brown eyes wandered to the beggar who was standing outside the restaurant for what felt like the nth time. The old woman’s frail body was draped in tattered, dirty clothes that had likely not been washed for months, if not years. Peri could only imagine how difficult it must be for this seventy-something woman. Not to mention, the scorching afternoon sun in Dumaguete was probably burning her skin at that very moment, yet she remained there as if glued to the spot, gazing through the glass wall of the Filipino restaurant.
  • The twenty-year-old waitress discreetly glanced at their manager, who was engrossed in conversation with a colleague, possibly giving instructions. Peri then quickly retreated to the kitchen, requesting a few dishes.
  • “What? No. We’re in the middle of our work. Balyena will most likely reprimand us if she catches us!” Roland, the chef, downright rejected her request.
  • Peri made a face upon hearing the secret nickname for their manager, Mrs. Gandola, which literally meant “Whale.” Mrs. Gandola had a rotund body, hence the furtive sobriquet given by the staff. Personally, Peri didn’t like calling people names, except for their actual names.
  • “B-but... just this once!” she insisted.
  • Roland snorted, as did the others in the kitchen who overheard their conversation. “This once? I can’t even count on my fingers how many times you’ve asked me for free dishes, Peri,” he groaned. “You’re asking for trouble!”
  • Indeed, today wasn’t the first time Peri had asked for free dishes to give to those in need. Each time, she warned them not to come back, as it could get her into trouble. So far, she has been lucky.
  • “Shh! Just go and leave quickly, girl. And then come back before Balyena catches you,” Gina, a colleague in her thirties who worked as a washer, advised.
  • Roland glared at Gina. “When did you put them in a plastic bag?” he whispered loudly, quickly glancing at the kitchen doors as if they might open at any moment and their manager would catch them.
  • Peri happily accepted the plastic bag and expressed her gratitude to Gina. “You’re an angel!” she said, swiftly dashing through the back door.
  • “You’re the angel!” Gina shouted back, grinning.
  • Roland simply sighed and resumed his work. Meanwhile, Peri approached the old woman with sunken cheeks and wrinkled, dark brown skin. The strong, unpleasant smell emanating from the beggar was enough to deter most people, but not Peri. She offered the old woman a warm smile and handed her a few dishes placed in a plastic bag.
  • “For you, Lola,” she said, using Grandma as a term of respect for an elderly woman.
  • Peri noticed the tears welling up in the old woman’s small eyes, even as she smiled, revealing only a few yellowed teeth.
  • “I—” Before she could say more, Mrs. Gandola interrupted her abruptly.
  • “What do you think you’re doing, Peri?” Her dark eyes shot daggers at the young woman, and her nostrils flared.
  • Peri’s eyes widened, and she froze in place. Her heart skipped a beat and sank into her stomach.
  • ‘Oh no! She’s going to fire me!’ she thought miserably. Yet, she wasn’t remorseful for what she had done. She motioned for the old woman to go. Although hesitant, the latter had no other choice and gave Peri a grateful smile, albeit with worry in her old eyes.
  • “I... I thought Lola needed some food to eat,” Peri began to explain. “She’s been standing here for a while, so I know she hasn’t eaten anything yet. And I thought that—”
  • “Preposterous! Haven’t you familiarized yourself with our rules? Have you forgotten them? You’re not supposed to give any food to anyone, at all! Even if the food is going to waste in the kitchen or the trash, you are prohibited from taking it home or giving it away to beggars or street children. The food is not yours to give, Peri. You’re not the owner of the restaurant; you’re just an employee. You must follow the rules!” Mrs. Gandola admonished her, regardless of their location. She appeared unfazed by any passersby who may have overheard her.
  • Peri should have felt ashamed, but she didn’t and she wasn’t. She viewed the manager’s words as a punishment for her actions. Nonetheless, she believed she wasn’t in the wrong.
  • “Ma’am, why wouldn’t we give the excess food instead of letting it rot? Wouldn’t it improve the restaurant’s reputation if the management also contributed to charity for less fortunate people? Wouldn’t it be beneficial for the restaurant’s image and the owner’s name?” Peri asked.
  • “Why? Do you think those people care about it nowadays? They only care about themselves, and worse, they’ll rely on you and ask for more. Give a finger to those wretched people, and they’ll bite your arm. What’s next then, huh?” Mrs. Gandola countered.
  • Peri could only stare at the shorter woman. She knew it wasn’t the only reason. The truth was that the management feared people would get sick if they donated the leftovers, if those were not good anymore. The restaurant would be held liable. On the other hand, she believed that if the food was still fine, then there was no risk. Still, the management leaned toward the safer side.
  • “If I may chime in on your conversation? I couldn’t help but overhear what just happened, and I have some thoughts on it,” a tall foreigner with a man bun and slightly long, light brown hair interjected, his cool, deep voice politely interrupting them.
  • Both women turned to see the tall foreigner, his deep blue, enigmatic, and sensual eyes capturing their attention. With his casual attire, he appeared neat and unassuming but also carried an air of authority. Peri was willing to bet all her small savings that this man held a high social status.
  • The women were left momentarily speechless, and the man continued, “I can’t see any reason why giving away excess food should be a big deal if you know that the food isn’t bad.”
  • “But we’re still open, and maybe we’ll have more clients,” Mrs. Gandola retorted with haughtiness.
  • The Caucasian man pulled his mouth down and nodded, giving Peri a slow, deliberate glance. She thought his movement seemed to slow down, or perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her.
  • ‘There’s no such thing as slow motion in real life, is there?’ she reasoned silently.
  • “Then, I’ll pay for all those dishes that were given away. This way, your restaurant avoids losses because an employee took the initiative and gave away your food,” he stated, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet and offer some bills to the manager.
  • Mrs. Gandola was left speechless, immobile in the face of the stranger’s kind yet somewhat offending offer. She knew that the dishes given away amounted to only a fraction of the sum the man was giving her. She cleared her throat to speak, but the man’s phone rang. He nodded to her and to Peri before answering and walking away nonchalantly.
  • Peri could only stare at the stranger’s retreating figure with slightly parted lips.