Glass Hearts [BL]
Chapter 36: Who’s the Sugar Daddy, Ash?

Chapter 36: Who’s the Sugar Daddy, Ash?

My breath came out in little puffs of mist, even though the night wasn’t that cold. Or maybe I was just still rattled. Between Dominic’s intense eyes, his ridiculous car, and talking about Liam... I felt like my brain was spinning.

I finally dragged my feet toward the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. A blast of greasy diner warmth and the faint smell of burnt coffee hit me in the face.

"Look who decided to show up!" a voice boomed across the room.

I glanced up to see Mr. Sun standing behind the counter, polishing a mug with a rag that was probably older than me.

"Oh my, my favorite worker made it here," he teased, squinting at me over his glasses. "I was already placing bets with the cooks on whether you’d show."

I ducked my head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Mr. Sun wagged a finger at me, grinning. "Don’t you sass me, boy. I been standing here counting plates and praying my dishwasher don’t die. I could use a miracle."

He stepped around the counter and gave me a playful swat on the arm.

"Oh wait..." He peered out the window toward the street. "Was that you getting dropped off in that private limo just now?"

I blinked. "What? No, it’s not a limo..."

"Oh, I’m just teasing you, Ash," he interrupted, waving the mug at me. "I saw it with my own two eyes. That was a Rolls freaking Royce, son. I saw that Spirit of Ecstasy on the hood shining like a diamond."

"Boy, that car’s worth more than my whole house!"

He gave me an exaggerated once-over, eyes twinkling. "I knew you were hiding secrets from me. A mysterious nightlife. Secret lovers with deep pockets. Who is he, huh? Some billionaire sugar daddy?"

Mr. Sun!" I hissed, glancing around to make sure no other staff heard. "It’s not like that!"

He cackled, leaning closer over the counter. "Mmm-hmm. Don’t try to act all humble on me. You know, Ash, you keep this up, one day I’m gonna start charging you for the entertainment."

I groaned, covering my face with my hand. "It’s really not like that."

He just waggled his eyebrows. "Sure, sure. Keep your secrets. As long as you’re not bringing any trouble into my diner."

He kept laughing, tears in his eyes. "I’m just sayin’, if you show up tomorrow in a Gucci apron, I’m quitting on the spot."

"Mr Sun!"

Mr. Sun finally sobered up, though a grin still tugged at his lips. "All right, all right. Here." He reached under the counter and tossed a folded-up uniform and a black apron at my chest. I barely caught it before it hit the floor.

"Go get changed. Then head to the kitchen and grab the food trays. And listen up."

I blinked at him, hugging the uniform. "Uh... okay?"

Mr. Sun lowered his voice. "Listen. This ain’t your usual crowd tonight. Tonight’s a private event. A private investor just landed from abroad. He’s dropping stupid money for the night. Kitchen’s running a special menu. You’re gonna help serve. Rented this whole place out. So..."

He poked me in the shoulder. "So I need you on your best behavior. Don’t drop anything. Don’t spill sauce on nobody’s designer shoes. Don’t swear at anyone. And definitely don’t flirt with anyone’s wife or husband. Unless they tip really, really well."

I sputtered. "Oh my god, Mr. Sun!"

He held up his hands, laughing. "I’m just covering all the possibilities, kid."

He leaned in closer. "Head to the kitchen. Chef will give you trays to start running. And Ash?"

"Yeah?"

Mr. Sun winked. "If that Rolls Royce friend of yours wants a job, tell him my dishwasher just quit."

I rolled my eyes so hard. "I’ll let him know."

His teasing grin softened into something a little more genuine. "I’m glad you’re here, kid."

"Good boy. Now scoot!"

I headed toward the back, clutching my uniform against my chest.

I pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, and the smell of garlic, sizzling oil, and sweet sauces hit me.

The moment the staff saw me, three different voices screamed:

"Ash

Before I could blink, someone barreled into me, wrapping me up in a hug.

Jae.

She squeezed me tight, nearly knocking the air out of my lungs.

"We missed you, Ash!" she squealed.

"Hi, Jae," I said, laughing as I gently tried to pry her off.

Jae pulled back, beaming up at me. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she smelled faintly like dish soap and cinnamon.

Jae was always pure chaos in human form. Bubbly, fast-talking, and the only person I’d ever willingly swapped late-night shifts for whenever she was sick or dealing with schoolwork.

A woman chopping vegetables glanced over. "Ash... we heard what happened. Are you okay?"

Another guy piped up from the grill, "Yeah, man. It was all over the news. We were so worried."

Jae crossed her arms, glaring. "We came by your house, too. No one was home. And we tried calling you, but your number wasn’t going through!"

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling weirdly guilty. "Oh... uh... I changed my line a few weeks ago."

Jae’s face crumpled. "Mr. Sun told me it was my shift you covered the night it happened," she said quietly. "I was sick that day and bailed. I’ve been feeling so guilty since then."

"It’s fine, Jae." I gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Seriously. I’m just glad it’s... sort of settled."

She nodded, though she still looked stricken.

Someone shoved a steaming tray into my hands, interrupting the moment.

"Ash, take this out!" a voice barked from behind the grill. "Special order, table four. Go!"

I blinked at the tray. It was loaded with fancy plates topped with seared steaks, creamy mashed potatoes, and vegetables arranged like a damn painting. It smelled incredible.

Jae scoffed. "You like ruining the mood, Matt!"

"On it," I said, shifting my grip.