Chapter Four

Tracy spent the weekend trying to decide what to do with this new information. She felt in her heart that the dream was a thought she had shared with Mr. Hayes, a real thing that he wished for. She now knew exactly what he wanted, what no woman had been able to deliver, but she was torn on what to do next. Should she compromise her ideals and sleep with Mr. Hayes in order to get ahead in life?

Technically, she served people what they wanted all the time in a restaurant. What was the difference between that and serving a man what he wanted sexually? Her pride was in the way, she knew.

Even more than that, she had doubts. What if her head injury caused her to have this vivid dream, and the feeling she got was just a hallucination? What if this was a real psychic link, but the real Mr. Hayes wouldn't give up control? Plenty of people had fantasies that they had no intention of ever carrying out, and this might be one of them.

No, she decided. He came in with a different girl every week because he wanted one of those girls to take initiative, to control him. Would she let herself be that girl?

She worked on Monday and picked up several hours of overtime, and came home exhausted. Tuesday morning's mail brought her medical bills, and she quickly did the math to see how many hours of overtime it would take to pay them back. She decided then and there that her pride wasn't worth that many hours.

***

Friday came, and Tracy was so nervous. Today was the first day in a long time that she was actually hopeful for the future. She was also a little ashamed that it had come to this, but it had to be done.

She put on her best make-up and a spray of perfume, something she hardly did for work, but tonight was a special occasion. She arrived early and made sure not to get any stains on her uniform. She would need all the help she could get, and a lack of confidence caused by a ketchup spot would ruin this whole plan. She deliberately didn't take her pain medication today so that she could have a couple confidence-boosting shots of alcohol before the man himself showed up.

At about the same time as usual, Mr. Hayes showed up. This time he had a buxom blonde with him, wearing a dress that showed off all that she had to offer. He was wearing his usual suit, and he smiled when he saw Tracy. Tracy smiled at the two of them and showed the two of them to their table. Mr. Hayes started to look over the wine list while his bimbo went to the bathroom.

"So," he started without looking up from the wine menu. "Have you thought over my offer?" It was clear from his body language that he expected another refusal.

"Yes, I have," she said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Here goes nothing. "If you truly want me, you'll get up and walk out of here with me right now."

He looked up at her, puzzled. Tracy's smile was steady, but it was being held by sheer force of will. He smiled a wry smile back at her. "That's pretty funny, sweetheart. If you didn't notice, I brought a date with me. But, if you're interested, maybe the three of us-"

She cut him off. "If you want me, ever, you'll leave this woman at the restaurant and walk out the door with me. This is a one-time offer."

For a moment, he seemed taken aback. He was a billionaire, and clearly not used to being talked to this way. There was a flicker in his eyes. She could tell that, for a moment, he almost came back with an angry response. Tracy almost lost her nerve right then.

But then, he took a look down her body, nodded his head and stood up without a word. As they quickly walked to the exit, he put his strong hand on her back, guiding her past the line of people at the door. The sensation sent a tingle down her spine, and she knew that this was going to be an experience she'd never forget.

Luckily, thought Tracy as they stepped into the warm summer evening, the only employee who saw us leave was the doorman. When the bimbo came back from the bathroom, and when her manager found out she had walked out on a Friday before her shift ended, there would be hell to pay. This was going to be worth it, though.

When they got to the black sedan, Mr. Hayes opened the back door. He just stood there, waiting for her to go in. Tracy peered inside and saw no driver in the car. He thinks he's just going to fuck me in his car, then go back to his date, she thought. She managed not to lose her temper. Instead, she said, "Wait until we get home."

For a moment, his expression wavered. Tracy realized she hadn't been as forceful as she had been in the restaurant. "Am I wasting my time?" Tracy asked, her heart fluttering.

Mr. Hayes' eyes went wide. "No, definitely not. I just thought you might have wanted to go back to work tonight."

Tracy shrugged her shoulders and stood there. Mr. Hayes nodded and closed the back door. He opened the front passenger door for her and got in the driver's seat himself.

"I would have thought a guy like you would have had a chauffeur," she said.

"No, I prefer driving myself. I like to drive and I hate to be the passenger," he said. It told her all she needed to know. He had to be in control because no one else would do it right. The dream was a psychic link, of that there could be almost no doubt.

That didn't fix her nerves completely, but it did help.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, he put his hand on her knee. It practically sent an electric shock through her body, as his powerful hand began to massage her leg. He wasn't going to get much of a feel through the pants of her waitress outfit, but she ought to set the record straight right away.

"Mr. Hayes..." she started.

"Please, call me Paul."

"Mr. Hayes," she said again. "I know what it is you want."

"I think we both have a pretty good idea of what, or who, I want," he said. He took his eyes off the road, looking her body up and down again.

The way he said it gave her pause. I could have sex with him right here in the parking lot, just for my own enjoyment, she thought. She quickly shook that thought away. She was a woman on a mission, and no sweet talker could dissuade her from it. As he pulled out of the restaurant, his hand strayed up her blouse, toward her breast, and she caught it and held it there against her body.

"I know what it is you want," she repeated. "But what's more important is what I want."

"Is that right?" he asked, almost a little mockingly. "I think you want the same thing I want, anyway."

Tracy knew she couldn't let his sexy confidence, his ego, his cockiness rattle her. She had to remain in control of her libido, as hard as it was. "Maybe, maybe not. I guess we'll have to see when we get to your house," she teased. She pushed his hand away,. Keep yourself under control, girl. You’ve got to pull this off.