Baron

“Perfect. And for you, sir?” She asks me. I look up at her and she gasps.

“I’ll have one of those iced teas you mentioned,” I tell her.

“No problem, sir. Coming right up.” She rushes away and returns a few minutes later with our drinks in hand.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes. I will have the twenty-two-ounce porterhouse, the whole lobster, and a loaded baked potato,” Morty says.

God, could he be any crasser? Not only is he an awful human being, but he also orders the most expensive things on the menu. He is taking complete advantage knowing that I’ll foot the bill. I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but we need the coveted commercial spot after the half-time show.

“And how would you like that cooked?” Frannie asks. I can’t stop staring at her red wavy hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes.

“Medium rare.”

“Ma’am?”

“I’ll have a garden salad, but I’d like the dressing on the side,” Laurie coos in her overly annoying voice.

“Yes, of course. And for you, sir?” She asks, turning to me again.

“I’ll have the lobster linguine.”

“Excellent choice, sir. I had it before my shift started.” I smile at her.

“Thank you, Frannie.” She blushes when I say her name.

“I’ll get this order right in.”

“Put a rush on it. I’ve got somewhere to be,” Morty says with his New York accent out of place here.

“No problem, sir.” She looks back at me one more time before going to the waitress station to enter the order.

Once she is done with that, my eyes follow her down the hallway. I give her a few minutes and then excuse myself to go and try to talk to her privately. Rounding the corner, I find her leaning against the wall. When I reach her, she doesn’t move away from me.

“Did you need something, sir?” She breathes when I am standing directly in front of her.

“Your phone number and last name, Frannie.”

“I don’t date customers. But my last name is Smythe” she says shyly.

“That’s a good policy, but who said anything about dating?” I ask her. She giggles and rolls her eyes and still doesn’t move away from me.

“That’s very forward, sir,” she says in a serious tone.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Frannie,” I say.

I boldly lower my lips to hers and she moans, before kissing me back. As I run my fingertips up the outside curve of her thigh, she pushes me away and takes off down the hall. I do not get to see her again through the rest of dinner. But, as soon as I ditch Morty and Laurie, I begin my search for Frannie Smythe. The need to find her is the only thing on my mind.

At damn near one in the morning I rouse my IT guy, Ray, out of bed to have him come to my office. He arrives quickly, still in his pajamas and a mega laptop in hand. Normally I would care that I've done something so inconsiderate, but I'm panicking and pacing my office floor like a caged lion. Why would she take off like that?

"Okay, boss. I'm all set up. Name?"

"Frannie Smythe," I tell him. He types in her name and looks at me expectantly.

"Age? Anything you can tell me about her?"

"Yes. I need to know her age. The only thing I know is that she has a French accent and works at The Lady’s Den downtown."

"Gimme a few minutes." He says, tapping away at the keys. I return to pacing.

"Got it!" He says, as my printer starts shooting out the information I need. I grab the paper before Ray can reach for it. Although it's late, I know exactly where I'm fucking going now.

"Thanks, Ray," I toss over my shoulder as I bolt out the door. My driver is on standby, so I get in the back of my town car without waiting for him to get out to open the door. I give him the address and settle in to read all about my girl.

Name: Francesca Genevieve Smythe

Age: 18

DOB: 6/9/2001

Place of Birth: Sainte-Catherine-de-la-Jacques-Cartier, Québec, QC, Canada

Address: 16 King Drive Apt 3601 Chicago, IL

Social Media: None located

Previously enrolled at the University of Illinois-Chicago. Student visa is on the verge of lapsing due to not being registered for classes this semester.Hmm, Quebec explains the sexy accent.

When I get to the address, an old couple lives there and they have never heard of her. Son of a bitch! I need to decide on a plan to get her to be mine. I know that I can’t go off half-cocked. How does someone I barely met make such an impact on me? It’s challenging to comprehend, but it is what it is.

Frannie Smythe will be mine come hell or high water.Chapter TwoFrannie“What the hell girl?” I question myself as I walk down the block towards the apartment.

I normally take an Uber because my friend Esther doesn’t like me walking so late in the evening. Tonight, I need to clear my head and focus my mind. The kiss that man gave me has my head messed up and confused, but not because I didn’t like it. I saw when he came in an hour earlier with that pompous guy. If you can believe it or not, my initial reaction was to squeeze my pussy and let it yell, “I’m over here.” He is fucking hot. While standing at the hostess counter, I could tell he was about 5 ’11”. His muscles are clearly visible through his suit and his face is no joke. Can you say Tom Hardy?