Chapter 4
On the way to work, my new coat kept me warm. Almost too warm, but it was better than being underdressed for the cool March air, which is exactly what I had done earlier. Thanks to picking up my new coat yesterday, after tasting the best pizza in Brooklyn, I’d never have to be too cold in the city again.
At work, it was hectic because two waitresses called in sick.
“I can help by having my own tables instead of sharing a section,” I said to Teresa, who looked at the seating chart.
“If you’re sure, then I suppose I can’t turn down the help, especially today!”
“I’m sure. Which section will be mine?”
“You can have Becky’s. It’s small.” She wiped Becky’s name off of the chart then put mine on it. “It’s perfect for your first day by yourself.”
“Why is it so small compared to the others?”
“That’s all she can handle. The boss can’t afford to let the customers get slow service. If they did, they would take a few steps outside and go somewhere else.”
She was right. There were numerous other restaurants within walking distance. Looking at the chart, I noticed the size of her section. “Your section is big. Wow!”
“Yeah, well I’ve got this waitress thing down to a science. I’ve got my regulars, and they tip well. When you’ve done this as long as I have, you get really good at it. If you have any questions, just ask.”
“Thanks, I will.”
∞ ∞ ∞
The night flew by. I had few problems keeping up with the orders in my small section and delivered the customers’ food promptly. It was nonstop action until thirty minutes before my shift ended. Then the food orders began to wind down. Since it was getting late, it was mostly drink orders. For a brief moment, I could pause and take a breath.
A group of girls got up from a table and left. I went over to it and gathered up their empty glasses. After dropping the glasses at the bar, I went back to wipe down the table.
Standing by it was a man so gorgeous he took my breath away. His muscles flexed as he stood with his hands on his hips. There was a coat on the chair in front of him. He used the coat as a deterrent to keep other customers from sitting there. He seemed to be guarding the table, wanting to take it the moment it was cleaned. His broad shoulders made his black T-shirt fit snugly against him. The shirt tapered down toward his trim waist. Although the lower section of the material wasn’t as tight, I’d be willing to bet he had a six-pack under there.
When my gaze met his, his deep stare captivated me. The closer I got, the more mesmerized I became. Wiping the table down in slow circular strokes, I locked eyes with him. His were hunter green on the outer rim of the irises, with yellow bursts around his pupils.
He pulled his chair out and grumbled as I moved out of his way. “Let’s hope you deliver food faster than you wipe tables,” he said in a deep, sexy voice as he sat down.
“Faster than I wipe tables” was uncalled for.
“I’ll have the small stew and a tall—”
If he’s in that much of a hurry, why doesn’t he eat at home? Besides, he’s being rude to the person serving his food. That’s bold. Not that I would spit in his food, but he didn’t know me. He didn’t know if I was that type.
I walked away. Looking down at the order, I realized it didn’t make any sense. Stew and a tall what? The order ended with “tall.” I’d have to go back and get his order again. Damn, he’s going to hate this!
I went up to his table. “I’m sorry, sir, but could you confirm your order?” I focused on my notepad so I wouldn’t be distracted by his intense gaze. “I want to make sure I got it right. It was a ste—”
“A stew, yes,” he snapped, looking at his watch, “and a tall Guinness. I already told you.”
The people nearby looked over, and New Yorkers don’t pay attention unless it’s worthy of turning their heads. My face flushed from being scolded loudly enough to cause them to notice.
I averted my eyes back to my pad of paper as the chatter from customers returned to normal volumes. “I’ve got it. I’m sorry, sir.” I briefly looked at him then turned away. “I’ll get that right out to you.” What an asshole! But why does he have to be such a handsome one?
When his order was ready, I delivered his food, avoiding eye contact. From time to time, I checked on his table from a distance to see if he needed anything. He inhaled his dinner. When he was done, he practically chugged his beer. He had gone from a sexy young stud to a boorish jerk in a matter of minutes.
What a waste! At least it looks like he won’t need anything else.
I promptly delivered his tab, and he put cash down.
“I’ll get your change,” I said, but he waved it off.
“Keep it,” he mumbled, concentrating on his cell phone screen, scanning a text message.
I got an order of six beers from the bartender and loaded up my tray. Unfortunately, they were for the customers sitting next to him. I thought he was in a hurry. Why is he still here?
His head was down as he stared at his phone. At least he already paid his bill. Hopefully, I won’t have to speak with him again.
“Son of a bitch!” he blurted out.
He jumped up, started typing furiously on his phone, and walked my way without looking. I stepped to the side trying to avoid him, but he bumped into the tray. Its hard plastic smacked my chin as Guinness splashed onto my shirt. I stood in a daze from being showered with alcohol. He didn’t even stop to apologize.
Bastard.
Part of me wanted to slap him. The other part wanted him to come back, just so I could look at him.