At 39, Nate had built an empire of successful eateries in the city, yet he had never found lasting love. Too many times, women had been more attracted to his wealth than to who he really was. Burned by past disappointments, he longed for someone who would see him as just Nate, not the man with money.
Then he met Beth — a 28-year-old cashier at a gas station. She wasn’t glamorous, but she radiated warmth and humor. On their first meeting, Nate had shown up splattered in neon paint from a paintball game, and she couldn’t resist teasing him: “If the Terminator walked in right now, he definitely wouldn’t ask you for your clothes.” Her quick wit and sparkling eyes disarmed him instantly.
Flustered but charmed, Nate asked her out. To his relief, she agreed. But doubt soon crept in — what if she turned out to be like the others? That’s when Nate devised his plan. He would take her to his most prestigious Italian restaurant, but instead of revealing that he owned it, he would pretend to be one of the staff.
When Beth walked into the restaurant in a simple red dress, Nate was already playing his part. He greeted her warmly, claiming he had just come off a shift as a waiter. She looked surprised, but her grin returned quickly. “Maybe I’ll jump in for a shift after dinner,” she joked.
The meal went smoothly. They talked, laughed, and shared stories. Beth told him about her love for books and how she worked at the gas station to help support her mom. She was witty and down-to-earth, and Nate found himself captivated.
Then came the test. His manager, Tom, stormed over and pretended to scold him. “You skipped the end of your shift. Get back to the kitchen and wash dishes, or you’re fired!”
Beth looked startled, but instead of pulling away, she encouraged him to go if he needed to. Moments later, she even slipped into the kitchen herself, rolling up her sleeves. “Come on,” she grinned. “Let’s wash these dishes together and then go for a walk on the pier.”
Side by side at the sink, Nate’s guilt grew. Beth seemed completely unfazed by the idea of scrubbing plates on their first date, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much she deserved the truth.
Finally, he confessed. He wasn’t a waiter — he was the owner of the restaurant, and the whole setup had been a test. Beth was taken aback. “So you lied to me? You thought I was a gold digger?” she asked, her tone hurt but calm.
Nate admitted his fear, explained his past, and apologized sincerely. After a long pause, Beth crossed her arms and asked, “So… did I pass your test?”
Nate nodded, relief flooding through him. “With flying colors.”
Beth’s playfulness returned. “Good. But for the record, your restaurant’s food isn’t that great. Next time, we’re going somewhere else. And no dishes, okay?”
Nate laughed, his heart lighter than it had been in years. He had finally found someone who saw him for the man, not the money.