Page 2 of Pretty Girl

Chapter Two

“Tired, kid?”

Sophie lifted her head up to see a woman in white chef uniform. Mrs. Reyes was a spirited woman, even more of a fiery passionate chef in the kitchen. Staffs often thought she was angry when she cooked because all they could see were flames and a stern expression.

“Just a bit, Mrs. Reyes.” she smiled with sleepy eyes and hazy mind.

If she could, she would fall into dreamland and hibernate for the rest of her week. She could hear the bristling in the kitchen that was just a room away and the soft humming of the heaters in the basement.

Sophie might have accidentally dozed off because she still had fifteen minutes left on her break after Mrs. Reyes had retrieved whatever she came into the breakroom for.

It was a mistake though, she was woken by the next person on break. Groggy and even more tired than before, Sophie blinked the dryness from her blurry eyes.

“Your dream man is here.” the waitress with black hair grinned toothily with a teasing eyebrow wiggle.

With a brain half a mile behind her, she gave an intelligent grunt as a question.

Melinda was the one that helped her get situated when she first began working there, she was also one of the more senior waiters that served more important guests.

“I wish I had a sugar daddy to spoil me with gifts and money,” she sighed dreamily, arms clenched around her shoulders in a dramatic role play with herself.

“Oh,” she giggled, “He’s so handsome! I’d kill to have him lift me up and push me against the wall with his hard body, grind his big-”

Sophie flushed brightly, “Mel!”

“What,” Melinda licked her ruby lips, “It only makes sense when he’s built like a quarterback that his dick is the size of the stadium.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Sophie’s lips trembled in light laughter.

She pulled her body into an upright position and stretched her arms across the table with a yawn. Sophie felt like she just did aerobic exercise for three hours straight then ran a marathon because that was how tired her body was.

A whine slipped from her rosy lips as she struggled to stand, her feet felt sore and difficult to walk.

“After your sugar daddy, you get to go home. With him, hopefully.” Melinda purred with the eyes of a mischievous pixie.

Sophie huffed when she thought back to the man who came at the same time on every evening. He would bring her gifts from his travel, her once bland apartment was fully flourished with expensive trinkets and jewelry.

There were times when he would send beautiful dresses via delivery of a woman in black suit and blank face.

Of course, Sophie had looked up his name on the internet like normal people do when they are suddenly introduced into a world of money and influence.

She thought she would find him as some rich man or a politician. All she could find was some flimsy articles of him being the most notorious mafia boss. There were some pictures, all were of him in fitting suits and stoic eyes.

Sophie was secretly relieved that there were no women in any pictures, but he could have hidden his mistresses very well.

She saw enough movies to know all powerful people have mistresses. She hushed the part of her mind that whispered insecurities that she was just a passing fancy.

Just as she stepped toward the door, she was face to chest with a police uniform. As an automatic bodily response, she gasped and took a step back because the police man had burst through the door and right into her personal space.

Another man came in the room with a black suit and green tie. Melinda sputtered her soda when more officers slipped into the room.

“Is this a porno?” she whistled, eyeing an officer who filled out his blue uniform.

The man with green tie stood in front of Sophie with a mean glare as if she just stole his first-born child.

“Sophie Hayes?”

“Y-yes?”

Why was he being ominously silent? He was making her nervous because did she accidentally walked too loud and the neighbor underneath complained? Was her apartment on fire?

“You’re under arrest.”

What?

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