Viola 's POV
The low thrum of electronic bass vibrated throughout the darkened club, its energy seeping into my bones as I weaved between tables, balancing a tray of drinks.
The air was heavy with the scent of alcohol and perfume, and the dim lighting painted a flattering shadow over everything.
It was just another night at work, or so I thought.
I glanced at the table in the corner near the air conditioning unit.
That's where he was sitting quietly.
Somehow, he looked... different from any other man that I've seen so far in my life.
I had seen him enter earlier, tall and commanding, with an air of authority that made people around him shift uneasily and look away after a first quick glance in his direction.
I didn't think much of it at first. After all, there were plenty of customers like him who into the club, successful and well-dressed, but this guy was truly distinct, quite unlike any one else.
The way he carried himself, the way he was able to notice and see those around him without being noticed... How he stood out just by sitting silently.
Anyone wold think that he owned the bar despite him trying not to be noticed.
He was soon joined by a beautiful woman, who was coiffed to an inch of her life.
However, her body language was very strange.
She kept leaning in too close invading his personal space, eyes twinkling with more than just business.
Meanwhile, the comely male seemed to be displeased with her actions and was not all hesitant to show it.
As I moved closer to their table to take another order, I overheard snippets of their conversation since I couldn't help but listen.
She was flirting with him. I mean outright flirting and her male companion was actually reacting negatively to her very obvious and straightforward approaches.
From what I could hear of their conversation, her name was Vanessa, I think.
Hmmm.
How fitting.
She was all coy smiles and fluttering long fake lashes.
I couldn't see his face clearly, but judging from the clear tensing of his body, it was obvious he wasn't enjoying his sultry companion's coquettish attention.
"Come on, Garrett. You can't seriously expect me to believe You're taken. Someone like you... really?" Vanessa's voice was sugar-coated but sharp enough to cut through the music.
"I told you," he said, his voice steady but with an edge, "I have a girlfriend. I'm not available."
The disbelief in her laugh was sensible. "A girlfriend? Please, that's the oldest excuse in the book. I don't see anyone here with you, Garrett."
I cringed at her persistence.
She leaned forward, her hand brushing against his arm in a way that made me uncomfortable from just watching.
Garrett, as she called him, subtly shifted away, trying to maintain distance without causing a scene."Vanessa, don't—" he warned, his tone sharper now, but she was undeterred.
"You know, I could make you forget about her," she whispered, her eyes glinting with something predatory as she leaned in for what looked like an attempt to steal a kiss.
Garrett turned his face at the last second, causing her lips to miss their mark. He straightened, his voice firm. "If you keep this up, I'm leaving."
She frowned, clearly not used to being rejected, and excused herself, muttering something about needing to freshen up in the ladies' room.
As soon as she was gone, Garrett's posture relaxed, but only slightly. I figured this was my chance. I had a job to do, after all.
"Can I get you another drink?" I asked, stepping forward and trying to keep my tone neutral.
His gaze flicked up to mine, and for the first time, I saw his face clearly.
He had these sharp, intelligent blue eyes, the kind that seemed to see
right through you, and a jawline that could've been sculpted from stone.
He was ridiculously attractive.
But there was something else there too, something exhausted, like he was carrying a weight that no one else could see.
"Actually," he began, pausing as if contemplating something. "I need a favor."
I blinked, momentarily thrown off. "A favor?"
"Yeah," he said, lowering his voice. "That woman, Vanessa, she's not taking no for an answer. I told her I have a girlfriend, but she didn't believe me. She's relentless, and I just... I need her to leave me alone."
I stared at him, unsure of where this was going. "Okay...?" I said slowly.
"I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."
My heart did a funny flip, like it had missed a step. Was he serious? I looked around, half expecting this to be some kind of prank.
"Wait, what?"
"I know it sounds crazy, but I just need her to see I'm not available. It'll be quick, I promise. You just sit with me for a bit, act like we're together, and that's it."I bit my lip, considering it.
I wasn't usually one to get involved in other people's problems, but the desperation in his eyes told me he was serious.
And there was something in his voice, something genuine, that made me want to help.
It wasn't like he was asking for much... right? Besides, it wasn't like I had any reason to say no.
"Alright," I sighed, setting down my tray.
"I'll do it."
"Thank you," he said, his expression softening with relief. "You have no idea how much this helps."
As I settled into the chair across from Garrett, I felt the weight of the situation sink in.
This wasn't just a casual favor.
I was about to step into a role I had no business playing.
The noise of the club buzzed around us, but the intensity of the moment made everything feel sharper, more focused.
Garrett leaned back in his chair, his gaze scanning the crowd as if making sure Vanessa was still occupied in the ladies' room.
Then he turned back to me, his expression a little less tense now
that we had a plan.
"You should probably take off your apron," he said, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the music.