Billionaire Bad Boy - Episode 1
by Chris Marie Green
Jules, you won’t believe this!!
I stop wiping down a table in the hotel’s empty restaurant…
Then look over at Molly, my fellow waitress.
What won’t I believe?
Molly squeals.
Callan Montgomery is here!!
Wait.
I don’t think my ears are working correctly.
Did she just say that Callan Montgomery is in the hotel?
The notorious — and very rich — bad boy??
The mysterious young heir who somehow avoids being photographed…
Even as he parties his way around the globe?
She’s got to be joking.
Hah. You almost had me fooled, Molly!
But here’s why I don’t believe you.
Callan Montgomery is probably out on some yacht…
Hanging with a bunch of supermodels.
He would never come to a boring, unfashionable hotel like this.
Maybe he’s just here for some rest and relaxation.
Right. Because being rich is really exhausting.
I laugh.
She nudges me.
Come on, Jules…
Aren’t you even just a little bit excited?
He’s going to inherit billions — and he’s probably hot, too!
So what if he’s rich and hot?
A guy like him would never give us the time of day.
I gesture to our drab waitress uniforms.
We live in one world…
And he lives in a totally different one.
Molly is about to argue again…
But then two female employees burst into the restaurant.
Is he in here?
We heard he was headed this way!
Oh, please tell me they heard wrong.
I don’t want to play servant to a rich jerk.
But then a tall guy saunters in.
He’s wearing a fancy suit…
And he looks like a total boss.
It’s got to be Callan Montgomery.
Meh. I’m not impressed.
As he sits at a table, Molly gapes.
It’s him!
I call dibs on getting his food order.
If you’re going over there, I am, too!
Wait — neither of you even work in the restaurant.
That means I’ve got dibs!
The three girls narrow their eyes at one another.
Then they all make a beeline for the billionaire.
I sigh and clean my table again.
They can fawn over him all they want.
I don’t care.
Then someone clears his throat from the table behind me.
I startle…
And look over to see an absolutely gorgeous guy…
Dressed in blue jeans and a casual button-down.
His hair is thick and golden-brown…
And he’s got a pair of blue eyes that a girl could drown in.
He sends me a killer smile…
And I utterly melt.
Are you one of Mr. Fancy Pants’ servers, too?
Nope. I’m available to take your order.
Meanwhile, the girls are giggling at something the billionaire just said.
My customer watches the other table.
He sure is attracting a lot of attention.
That’s because he’s sort of a celebrity.
Really?
Yeah. His family is filthy rich.
And that means everyone wants to meet him.
Well, not everyone.
He smiles.
You’re still here with me.
I try hard not to blush.
I don’t want to meet that guy.
Billionaires just aren’t my thing.
The guy’s eyes widen in surprise.
Are you telling me that he doesn’t impress you at all?
Not even remotely.
I lean in toward him.
Just between us…
Money isn’t everything.
The guy smiles.
Wow, that’s refreshing to hear.
He glances over at Callan Montgomery.
And the billionaire glances back at him…
They grin at each other and then look away.
Okay, that was odd.
Wait, do you know him or something?
As a matter of fact, I do.
Oh, great.
I just insulted his buddy.
But my customer doesn’t seem to mind.
He shrugs nonchalantly.
We have a business relationship.
I check out his casual clothes again.
You don’t look like a businessman.
He quirks an eyebrow, then crooks his finger at me.
I lean in closer…
Close enough so I can see just how blue his eyes are.
Turns out, they’re as blue as the center of a flame.
I might not look like I’m Callan Montgomery’s equal…
But here’s something people don’t know about him:
He actually appreciates people who wear blue jeans.
I shiver from the yummy smell of him…
Then back away.
I hear Callan appreciates a lot of things—
And most of them are female.
As if on cue, the girls giggle again.
I glance over at the billionaire in the suit.
He’s loving the attention from his fan club.
I roll my eyes.
See what I mean?
He’s such a playboy.
My customer’s gaze clouds up.
I guess his reputation precedes him everywhere, huh?
Yup. Even out here in the middle of nowhere.
The guy sighs.
Like I said, your honesty is a breath of fresh air…
And a rude awakening.
Jeez, why is he so sad?
I want to reach out to him…
Touch one of his broad shoulders…
And give him some comfort.
But then the hotel manager walks in.
Mr. Montgomery, here you are!
I’d like to personally welcome you to the Grand Hotel!
My blue-eyed guy looks up at me.
Now he looks…pained.
And that’s when I realize…
The manager isn’t talking to the guy in the suit.
He’s talking to the guy sitting at my table.
I narrow my gaze at him.
Did the manager just call you “Mr. Montgomery?”
Yeah…
*You’re* Callan Montgomery?!
He nods.
My stomach sinks.
But…why would you pretend to be someone else?
No, wait — don’t tell me.
It’s some kind of sick game you and your friend play.
It’s how you bad boys like you get your kicks.
Well, tell me this, “Callan”—
Did you enjoy messing with the heads of us dumb, poor peasants??
He starts to say something…
But I’ve got my pride.
So I get out of there as fast as I can.
But just as I reach the hallway, Callan catches up with me.
His blue gaze is intense.
I was about to tell you who I was.
Oh really?
He stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets.
No matter what you think, I wasn’t playing a game.
The guy in the suit is David, my security guy.
He happens to be a sharper dresser than I am—
But it’s not because we’re trying to trade places or play games.
I don’t do that.
At least…not anymore.
He sounds so sincere.
My heart feels like it’s being squeezed.
He sighs.
I came to this out-of-the-way hotel for a reason:
To do some soul-searching.
I was trying to think of ways to be a better man…
And then you pretty much put things into perspective.
He touches my hand.
I meant it when I said your honesty is refreshing.
I haven’t gotten much of that in my life.
My skin is warm against his.
It feels…right.
He smiles hopefully.
Can you forgive me?
I can’t say no to the sincerity in his eyes.
Yes, I forgive you.
But only if you can forget all the bad things I said, too.
Well, it’s not like you were wrong.
I am a notorious bad boy.
Wrong, Callan — you *were* a bad boy.
I link my fingers with his.
But I have a feeling that everything is about to get really good.
As he rubs his thumb over mine, I heat up.
And I think to myself:
Yeah…things are definitely gonna get really good.
App