Luca's POV

I sat on the couch watching a football game when James walked into the room. "Fucking score you useless arse!" I shouted at the television screen. It was a Manchester derby and I was backing Manchester City for the win, but they were letting me down. With only ten minutes left in the game, I was at the edge of my seat. Unfortunately because of the time zones I had to record the football match since it was only live at two am.

"How do I look sir," James asked moving to stand next to the flat screen tv that hung on the wall.

"You look with your eyes. Have you forgotten?" I clipped in annoyance. Well, I wasn't annoyed at James. I was annoyed at the game. "Well, I'll be fucked!" I screamed when Manchester United scored again.

"Sir!" Jameson exclaimed in a sound of disgust. He hated it whenever I swore.

"Yeah, yeah you look smashing James," I told him just so that he can leave me alone.

"Why sir, you didn't even look at me," he whined.

The football game was going nowhere and I grabbed the tv remote resisting the urge to throw it at the tv. I switched the tv off and let out a breath of frustration before I turned to look at James. He was wearing a tuxedo.

"Meeting with the queen?" I asked and he smirked. "Anyway, I'm not going out with you dressed like that. Go put on some normal people's clothes."

"But we going to a well-established restaurant," he argued and I rolled my eyes.

"You need to lighten up." I stood, stretching. "And stop calling me sir for God's sakes."

I walked into my room and opened up my large wardrobe. We were going to El Royal because it was Jameson's birthday.

I wanted to treat him since he has stuck by me for so long. He could of always quit and went back home, but he stayed and helped me adjust to a new life here. New York was never going to be my permanent home. I was going to go back to England as soon as I was done with my studies.

I pulled out a black button-down shirt and black pants. I laid the clothes on my bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom to take a shower.

My mother phoned me every day for the past four years. For the first few months, she cried and told me she was only going along with Harry because I was in fact out of control.

I stepped into the shower and the hot water loosened my tight muscles. After a fifteen minutes shower, I wrapped the towel around my waist and walked back into the room.

I put on my clothes and examined my face in the mirror, and that's when I saw the most horrible thing I could've ever seen. I had a grey hair in my beard. Fuck.

I rummaged through all the cupboards looking for tweezers. There is no way Luca Hendricks gets grey before he is even sixty. "James!" I yelled when I couldn't find a tweezer.

"Yes sir," he said coming into my room. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing a powder blue shirt and formal pants.

"Do you have a tweezer?"

"Just a second," he said leaving the room. He came back in less than a minute holding a tweezer out to me. "Why do you need a tweezer?" He asked and I took the tweezer from him.

"U-r-h...that's personal," I trailed, gesturing for him to leave the room.

"But sir," he said sounding horrified.

"What?"

"I use those tweezers on my face." A dark smile appeared on my face.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to get you a new one," I laughed and he cringed before leaving my room.

I walked up to the mirror and pulled out the one grey hair. I examined the grey hair as if it was an abnormality. I knew that a little grey hair meant nothing, but I wasn't going to walk around with it on my face.

I walked out of my room and saw James cleaning up the sitting area. "Leave it. Let's go," I said, touching my pants pockets for my keys. Where did I put my keys? Maybe old age is catching up with me.

"It's on the round table next to the door," James said and I nodded and walked over to the door.

"What would I do without you, James. Now hurry up we going to be late."

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Thanks to the nauseating traffic in New York. A twenty-minute drive took forty-five minutes. I pulled up to a set of golden gates. The security guard opened the gate and a lanky valet tipped his hat to me as I drove in. "Can I park your car for you sir?" he asked, reaching out his hand for my car keys. My Mercedes is my baby and there was no way I was letting anyone touch my baby.

"I'll find a spot on my own," I said putting my window up. I drove around the parking lot for ten fucking minutes. Every time I passed that damn valet he had a smug look on his face. I was so tempted to jump out of my car and kick his smug arse.

"There, there is a parking," James jumped excitedly in the passenger seat, pointing to a vacant parking spot. I parked my car and turned off the engine while reaching to unbuckle my seatbelt.

I looked up at the restaurant I had only eaten here one other time and that was for Jameson's birthday last year. I wasn't fussy when it came to food. I was good with Mcdonald's but since it's Jameson's birthday and he has excellent taste buds, I would endure an evening of fancy overpriced food without complaining.

We got out of the car and walked up to the restaurant and the doors parted welcoming us into the air-conditioned environment. A man wearing a suit walked towards us with a waitress trailing behind him.

James and the man began to exchange a few words and from the corner of my eye, I could feel the waitress staring at me.

She was a natural beauty. Her brown hair was pushed back into a bun while her fringe covered her forehead. Her brown eyes stood out the most. My eyes couldn't help but connect with hers. As I got mesmerized by her large chocolate orbs I realized that there was something oddly familiar about her.

I looked down at the ground immediately breaking eye contact with her while I racked my brain for the answers of where I could've seen such an authentic beauty before. New York City is filled with beautiful women but this one was a refreshing sight.

Then as if a light bulb went off in my head, followed by warning bells. I remembered the girl in the sweater.
I looked up again as if to make sure my assumption of her was correct and my eyes raked over her again. Her shirt was tucked into her knee-length skirt and my eyes began to narrow in on her as I began to search her face. Then I finally saw it. The beauty spot above her lip was all the confirmation I needed.

My thoughts drift back to that night and the amount of trouble I would've been in if her friends didn't believe I was trying to help her. She was a mess that night. Throwing up and fainting all over the place. Also not to mention the fact that if I hadn't been there what that disgusting fuck Trent would have done to her. The thoughts anger and sicken me at the same time.

But did she remember me?

She looked away quickly from my harsh stare, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Elizabeth show these men to their table," the man in the suit ordered her. So finally, I have a name to the face. Elizabeth. How common and boring.

If she didn't remember me then I wasn't going to bother to explain to her who I was. It's better if she didn't remember. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to send a quick text to Alisson. Elizabeth began walking and James and I followed her to a table next to a long black tinted window. I took my seat and continued to stare down at my phone checking the news and everything else that I could just so I didn't have to look up at Elizabeth.

"Hi my name is Liz and I'll be your server today," I heard her sweet voice say and I kept my head down resisting the urge to look up at her face.

"Hello, Elizabeth, can you tell me about the house wine?" James the always gentlemen asked.

"The grapes were grown in a village in Paris and the wine has been aged for fifty years in oak wood barrels," she said and I bit my tongue.

A village in Paris my arse. It was probably grown in California and aged for five years. She thought she was so smart. I was trying not to let her presence bother me, but it was. Just having her around me was getting under my skin."How fascinating could you tell me how old the grapevine was and who picked the grapes from it?" My voice came out crude as the words fumbled out and hung in the air.

"U-r-m... huh," she stammered, looking at me confused. She was either taken aback by my absurd question or at the fact that I spoke to her. Maybe even both.

"That's alright, we'll try some," Jameson cut in with awkward laughter brushing off my outburst. His eyes were slightly widened as he stared at me perplexed.

"I'll be back with a bottle right away sir," Elizabeth said with a smile, excusing herself from the table.

"Sir what are you playing at?" James whispered and I shrugged. Truth be told I didn't know what I was doing, but having Elizabeth around made me feel tense. Especially when she looked at me with those huge brown eyes.

The memories of that night came flowing back like a stream of uncontrollable water. I still remember how soft her skin felt and how she looked up at me that night. The way she nuzzled her head into my chest for comfort. The way her hair smelt and finally the way her eyes fluttered open just a little before closing again. I never thought I'd see her again.

No, I can't think about her like that. I'll admit her face haunted me for the first week after that night. But I was certain I would never see her again so I put her out of my mind but there she was again to haunt my mind for weeks to come, once again, and to tempt me with those huge doe-like eyes.

She was nothing but a wolf who pranced around like a lame sheep. She would lure me in with how innocent she looked. When she wasn't that innocent at all, considering the place she worked. A place filled with rich men while she walked around wearing a tight shirt that clung to her body and a skirt that accentuated her figure.

She was just a distraction. Someone sent to test my faithfulness, but I wasn't about to cave. No matter how innocent and beautiful the temptress was.

She came back a few minutes later with the wine in a bucket of ice. Her face lit up warmly in this lighting. Stop it, Luca. Stop staring at her like a starved human being. She wasn't food for my soul. I got rid of the ridiculous thoughts and looked up at her with my poker face. "Took you long enough. I thought you went to Paris to make the wine," I said flatly and she froze again.

"Sorry for the long wait sir," she apologized, calmly.

She poured the wine in a wine glass next to me and then moved to pour a quarter for James. I took the glass by the stem and sniffed the wine before tasting it. I was no wine connoisseur but I saw my pompous ass of a stepfather do it many times.

I took a sip of the wine and it was actually kind of nice. It had a bittersweet kind of taste, but I was not going to let her know I liked it. "Urgh, yuck this is disgusting," I said wiping at my mouth. A few other customers looked up from their meal and Elizabeth looked horrified.

"I can get you another bottle sir," she gasped, reaching for the bottle on the table.

"No, no leave it. You clearly know nothing about wine." Those words hung in the air and the restaurant went silent for a second. Her cheeks flushed red from embarrassment and then she did something I can't quite explain.

She stood extremely still while mumbling something. She was beginning to look like a malfunctioning robot. The normal bustle of the restaurant picked up again and I narrowed my eyes in on her.

"Well, are you going to take our order or just stand there and stare off into space," I interrupted whatever was going on in her head.

"Yes sir," she stammered, grabbing her notepad from her apron pocket. I never liked Jameson calling me sir. But when Elizabeth did it. It gave me a strange sense of satisfaction.

I looked over the menu quickly. Then looked back up at her. "Two house steaks with garlic sautéed vegetables and peppers," I said and she wrote it down. I should of just let her go but I couldn't help enjoy watching her squirm and stammer in front of me. So I decided to talk faster so that I can confuse her. "One steak has to be cooked fully and I want the peppers grilled and separate. I don't like my food touching. Also, I would like the chicken Fettuccine pasta with basil."

"Wait could you please repeat that sir?" She asked, looking up from her notepad.

"Are you short of understanding?" I barked and her eyes widened. "One ...steak ....has to... be ....cooked ....fully ..." I stretched out my words purposely. I was egging her on and I was determined to find her breaking point for what purpose I had no idea. I just wanted to bring her torment. I wanted her to remember me like how I remembered her. A stranger that captivated and put me through hell all at once.

"You can talk a little faster than that," she cut me off. Her voice was beginning to strain as she tried to collect her decorum and remain calm.

"I would like the chicken Fettuccine pasta with basil," I repeated normally and she wrote it down. "And put my grilled peppers on the side. If the food touch, I won't eat it." Her one eyebrow rose but she didn't look up from her note pad.

"Very well sir," she said in an exhausted tone of voice and turned to walk away. I wasn't being very smart about this. I didn't take into consideration that she was handling my food.

"Sir why are you being so hard on the poor girl?" Jameson piqued.

"I'm not being hard on her James. You just feel sorry for her because she has a pretty face."

"I didn't say anything about her being pretty," James retorted with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," I let out an awkward cough. "Just drop it."

James didn't have to know why I was doing this to her. We waited for the food to come while we got into a discussion about football.

"I miss watching games at Anfield. Maybe we should make a trip for the holidays," James suggested and I stroked my beard in thought.

"Maybe we should." I missed Allison and I wouldn't mind going home for the holidays and putting up with Harry if it meant I got to see her.

Lost in thought, I failed to realize that the creature with eyes the size of tennis balls appeared by the table again.

I may be exaggerating the size of her eyes. That's just because I had nothing else to pick on. She was flawless to me. Even her little beauty spot above her lip was perfect.

Elizabeth looked calmer this time as if she went in the back and had a smoke. "Oh, you back. I swear I could feel my hair growing from how long you took," I said and she remained silent.

She placed the food in front of us and then she did the bravest thing she ever did for this night. She looked me dead in the eyes. "Enjoy your meal," she uttered with a devious smile and then disappeared to another table.

I sat in my chair astonished. I was dumbfounded at how smooth and composed she was acting. Was she some kind of robot? The fact that I wasn't getting under her skin as much as I thought I would be starting to affect me.

"Everything alright sir?" James asked with a smirk.

"Oh piss off," I said and he tried hard to hide his smirk with a subtle cough.

Half an hour later she returned to check if we needed anything else and I was determined to stay longer than necessary. "I think we'll have some dessert," I said and I saw an emotion I can't help but describe as frustration wash over her face, it disappeared as fast as it appeared that I had to wonder if I imagined it.

"Sir I can't eat another bite. I'm stuffed," James stifled a burp.

"Nonsense," I said with a wave of my hand. "It's your birthday and you should have something sweet."

"Yes sir what would you like?" Elizabeth asked, turning to James and if my jaw wasn't attached properly it would have hit the fucking ground. Was she insane. She actually wanted us to stay longer. She was confusing me but I wasn't going to back down no matter what.

"Blueberry cheesecake and chocolate moose, "I said and she wrote it down fast and before she turned I spoke again. "One latte and one cappuccino"

"Okay, sir."

"Add a dash of cinnamon to the latte and a drizzle of caramel to the cappuccino," I added again just as she was about to turn and leave.

"Anything else sir?" she asked with a bright smile that didn't quite meet her eyes and I smiled darkly.

"That'll be all."

After she served us our last morsels for the evening, James kindly asked for the bill and I remained silent. What was her problem. She wasn't breaking. She brought over the bill with a smile on her face.

This is far from over.

I pulled a few dollars out of my wallet and paid the bill. I was between leaving her a tip and no tip but then I didn't want to mess with her source of income. What if she needed the money. I started feeling guilty for the way I treated her.

She fucking confused me.

I didn't think. Why is it that I have two minds when it comes to her. Why can't I just make up my mind about her. She took the bill from the table and walked away all the while still wearing that taunting smile on her face.

I stood from the table and I could barely stand. I was stuffed. Jameson stood up but couldn't help but stumble back as if he was drunk. "I think I'm going to be full for the next week," he complained.

"Oh, stop complaining it's not that bad. " I held onto my chair, balancing myself. I felt dizzy. Like I was going to pass out from how much food I consumed.

I checked my watch and it was ten pm. I stumbled towards the exit and I saw Elizabeth standing at the front desk. She had a victorious smirk on her face." Hope you enjoyed your time at El Royal." she said, with a brilliant smile. I was about to say something rude, but I was so full that I couldn't think so I straightened my shirt as I attempted to walk out with my head held high. This was not the last she was going to see of me.

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A/N

So if Luca did that to me...I would have hit him with the wine bottle :p

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