His orders -Erik's POV

                                    

                                          
Erik's POV-
                          
I walked into the kitchen entrance of the exclusively rich people's club that I worked at with a smile on my face. Normally, I hated going to work. Normally, Saturday and Sunday were my least favorite days of the week due to the shitty waiter job that I had to work at in order to help out with the bills at home.
                          
That Saturday though, I was very happy. Nia had officially gotten her first paycheck from Christina Ward's boutique the day before, and she made over double what I made at my own job. Therefore, that meant that I could quit! I didn't have to work at that shitty ass place any longer!
                          
After I put in my two-week notice to my manager, I began doing my job. Saturday was always a terribly busy day for us. It was apparently the day that all the rich assholes liked to take others out to their upscale and exclusive clubs to show off for them. It was also the best day for tips. They just had to get tipsy first. for tips. They just had to be tipsy first, which was pretty easy because most of them were uncontrollable alcoholics.
                          
My shift was going very smoothly. I was in a good mood since I saw the light at the end of my job. Plus, Kat and I were going to hang out after my shift. It was turning into an incredibly good day.
                          
Well, that was until the stupid dude who wanted my girl walked in with a smirk and an overly confident way about him. He had already pissed me off just by being there. Then, on top of that, he of course was sat in my section for me to wait on.
                          
It was almost eight in the evening when I walked up to him, forcing a smile when I got to him. Annoyed wasn't even close enough to describe the feelings that I was feeling towards the boy. I couldn't stand his entitled ass. I couldn't stand that he thought that he had a chance with my Kat.
                          
"Hello, how are you this evening?" I greeted kindly.
                          
"Look," he said not even sparing me a hello. "I have a date coming shortly. Can we just start out with some fine wine? The expensive shit since the girl is an heiress," the guy said without even looking at me.
                          
"I'm sorry sir, but how old are?" I asked, simply doing my job.
                          
"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself correctly. I am Matthew Harrison. My parents, Mister and Misses Timothy Harrison, are very big contributors to this club. Therefore, I'd like my wine now."
                          
I almost lost it on the guy, but I knew that I couldn't. Besides that, it really was a rule at the club that the Harrisons were treated very well. They were to be given whatever they wanted, no matter what rules and codes were being violated for them. I was quitting, but I didn't want to ruin my chances at being given a good reference for any future work that I would inevitably need. So, I simply nodded pleasantly.
                          
"Ah, yes, Matthew... You're Kat's friend, aren't you?" I asked graciously, hoping that he'd be angry over her ignoring him.
                          
"I am... That is actually who I am waiting on," he replied.
                          
I felt my mind go wild and my insides start to burn in anger. What was he talking about?! She had ignored his text and even blocked him. Had she done that just for show and contacted him later? That didn't sound like Kat... However, I could never really be sure. Maybe my infatuation was clouding my judgments.
                          
"Ah, sounds like fun..." I found myself replying detached. "I'll bring you a bottle of our best."
                          
I turned around to go get what he wanted. All the while, I was feeling anger and jealousy pooling at my stomach. I mean, surely, she hadn't lied to me. Kat wasn't a liar... I didn't think so at least. However, warning bells were going off in my head alerting my fight or flight instincts.