Billionaire Ashton Brooks has a bad reputation that he just can't seem to shake. He's rude, spoiled, toys with women, and mocks anyone below him. He's never had to work hard for what he has, and he's not afraid to show it. But when his public image...
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"What's this?" I stared at a green plastic tub with a yellow lid, something I had no idea I owned. The container seemed more fitting for a child than an almost thirty year old man, and I wondered in which corner of the cabinet Daisy found this elusive object.
"It's your lunch. Just a simple pasta salad and some roasted chicken. I looked up a recipe online," she said eagerly, packing two more containers.
"Is that why you were making all that noise in the kitchen last night?" I asked, eyeing the extra container. She nodded her head. "Who's that for?"
She froze in place, and her cheeks reddened. "This is really embarrassing, but I was trying to buy a sandwich in the cafeteria yesterday, and I didn't have any money. Thankfully, a guy named Brandon bought it for me. But the food is way too expensive. I think I'd rather make my own lunch. I owe him, so I made one for him, too."
"I'm not sure if you know this, but there's a card linked to the wallet on your phone. Plus, if you needed money, you could've asked me."
"I don't want to keep asking you for money and things. You got me a job. The least I can do is try to earn it."
"Says the woman making food in my kitchen with my groceries," I smirked, sipping my coffee.
Daisy stuck out her tongue and placed her containers in a tote bag that I also didn't realize I owned. Getting ready for work together in the morning was unexpectedly fun. Normally, I grew tired of seeing the same people, but Daisy always had a way of keeping things interesting.
"By the way, I think we should go back and actually volunteer at Helping Haven on Saturday. This time, I promise not to cut my finger," she said, holding up her scar.
I groaned and leaned against the counter. "You're trying to make me enter that death trap again? I just got over the flu."
Mention of the flu brought back memories of our night together, and with the flustered way Daisy acted, it was clear she made the same connection.
"Um, well, maybe we need to bring medicine or doctors with us next time. These women can't afford basic healthcare. I think just that would make all the difference."
I agreed reluctantly as we entered the elevator. I had been stalling from actually doing something good and needed some coaxing to focus on the mission. But if Daisy knew I was only doing this to secure my billions, how would she react? She looked ahead with innocent eyes full of hope. Eyes that experienced the bottom of human living and still managed to always consider the good in people.
--
I looked down at the pasta salad in the dumb, childish container. If Rafael had put my lunch in something so stupid, I would've thrown it in the trash. But Daisy looked so proud with her button nose pointed with pride, I had to accept the generosity. My lips curled into a smile at the little cherry tomatoes cut to the shape of hearts. How silly.
