The Billionaire’s Full Figured Desire

Pretty soon, the restaurant was closing down, and the clocks were nearly pushing midnight. This was the first time that Frida had closed down a restaurant that she wasn’t working in for months! No, for years! Normally, on her days off, she was a nervous ball of anxiety, forever having her eyes on the clock, desperate to get a good night’s sleep before work the next day.

But this was not the case here. She and Terrence had talked to each other, right through their entrees, drank down their intermezzos, and kept chin-wagging through dessert. They had so much in common, and thusly, so much to talk about. Frida felt as she hadn’t in years; like she was having an actual connection!

Of course, she and Andrew, who had become bosom friends, were there for each other, but Andrew was a very task-orientated machine, who respected efficient work ethic above all else. And as such, there wasn’t much room or time left in the day for idle chitchat, and then by the end of the working day, everyone was tired and drained and only wanted to talk to their pillow. Frida realized that she had begun to heal a part of her that she hadn’t even known was damaged; she was lacking human connection.

And now that she was aware that there was something not quite right inside her, now that Terrence had opened her eyes to what the woman who had everything was missing, she wouldn’t be able to go back. Not a chance.

The restaurant may have been ready to close, but for Frida and Terrence, the night was very much still young. They decided to go for a walk on the city coast, by Lake Washington. The moon peeked from out behind clouds, and the silver light danced on the calm waves of the lake, giving a somewhat ethereal feel to it. They talked as they walked, for what seemed like hours more.

They walked and walked and walked, until their feet got sore, and then they sat down on a bench by the lake and talked some more. The night seemed as though it would never end. But, as Frida was a firm believer, all good things had to come to an end at some point. It was for this very reason that life was worth living. A thing isn’t precious because it lasts, it’s precious because it’s finite. Likewise, each moment is fleeting, and thus, each moment is a gift. Hence why it’s called The Present.

Soon, the sky stopped getting darker and darker and started getting lighter and lighter. And then sunlight began to peek over the horizon, chasing the darkness and moonlight away from the water and replacing it with the golden glow of the morning sun. Terrence insisted on taking her home, and they scheduled an Uber to take her back to her house.

Despite knowing what she knew about moments and the meaning of them, Frida was desperate to cling to the last fleeting moments of the night and insisted Terrence walk her to her door.

And it was there, on that doorstep, that they shared a sweet, passionate kiss.

Frida made her way up to her apartment in a complete and utter daze, it was as if someone had taken the air right out of her lungs and not in an uncomfortable way but in a way that left her feeling a little high, almost as if she had a head rush due to the lack of oxygen. It wasn’t a bad feeling and she knew she would remember it for days to come. Her dating life recently had been extremely low and she only had herself to blame. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to date but working the hours she did meant it was hard to keep a relationship down for too long. She didn’t hold it against anyone, truly she couldn’t think anyone in their right mind would still around for so long while she got home long after most business people were in bed.

Frida could only describe the next few weeks using the words absolute and bliss. She awoke the morning after her magical night in the best mood that she’d been in for a long time, especially considering that she was not a morning person, she never had been but for once she could picture herself smiling at people she walked past. And as she lay there, wrapped up in her duvet and sheets, it took her a moment to remember why she was in such a good mood.

And then it came flooding back to her, and her smile widened. Terrence Harrison. Their night in the restaurant, they had a walkout by the water. And finally, that toe-curling kiss at the end. That really had been the cherry on the cake, nothing could have possibly made it better. At that moment, as she lay in her bed, Frida knew that Terrence had left his mark on her. Whatever happened between them, however, it ended, and if there was something at all, she would always remember that night as pure and unadulterated. Perfect.

Frida hadn’t had so many perfect nights before, of course, she had some close to perfect nights but nothing could compare to the one that brought a smile to her face as soon as she woke up. She didn’t want to be a mess of goo at the thought of Terrence but something about him just made her heart sing with joy.

Suddenly, something else forced its way to the forefront of her mind. What was the time? Wasn’t she supposed to be at work?! Frida rolled over and checked the time. It was a quarter to twelve. Sh*t! she thought viciously to herself. This is why you don’t stay up to five in the morning having a goddamn stroll, Frida!

Suddenly, it almost felt as though the repercussions of her night were coming back to bite her in the ass! She was forty-five minutes late already, and that didn’t even account for the time it took for her to shower, dress, eat a rushed breakfast, and actually get to work. Even if she had her breakfast on the way to save time, that’d probably work out to about another forty-five minutes, maybe an hour.

If she came in an hour and forty-five minutes late, what’s the worst that would happen? Andrew, the sous chef, was almost certainly holding down the fort; he ran the kitchen for the most part anyway. Although, there was the slight chance that Andrew had called in sick, at which point the line cooks would be in charge of the kitchen. And that was a problem.

It wasn’t very likely, considering that Andrew was a superefficient machine who didn’t get sick. He was probably immortal, in fact. As much as she wanted to lounge in bed and reminisce about the night before, to bask in her self-bestowed nostalgia, Frida knew that it was bad practice to sleep in because she’d been out late the night before, and if she started to push the boundaries, then her boss, the restaurant owner, would give her a phone call.

And by “give her a phone call,” that meant “scream at her down the end of a phone.”

So Frida pulled herself out of bed, got into the shower for about twenty-five minutes, dressed for work, grabbed a quick pan au Chocolat for breakfast, and by the time she’d finished it, her Uber was already outside, waiting to cab her to work. When she finally got into the kitchen, she saw that she was right; Andrew had held down the fort, and service was going smoothly, to her pleasant surprise.

“Morning, boss!” Andrew said brightly, amused if nothing else. “Nice of you to join us!”

Frida rolled her eyes, but she did it good-humoredly. Those words were the exact words that she said whenever somebody was late. “Very funny, Andrew. How’s it been going?”

“Tickety-boo,” Andrew confirmed. “You know me, boss, I’ve got this place on lock. So what’s the story? Hot date last night? Clubbing? I didn’t have you pegged for much of a party animal!”

Frida laughed at this. “That’s because I’m not. Anyway, I’d love to sit here and chat about my personal life, but I’ve got a stack of forms on my desk that isn’t going to sign themselves. So, if you’ll excuse me-”

“Actually, Chef,” one of the line cooks cut in. “Someone was here for you.”

Frida blinked. “What?”