Chapter Three

It was back to business as usual the next day. Allison waitressed at Old Smoky’s Real Pit Barbecue, an off-campus restaurant, three or four days a week, depending on her class schedule. It was a decent job, except for the fact she came off every shift smelling like smoked meat. A long hot shower and strawberry-scented shampoo was the only cure.

Allison strained to hear her customers above the twangy Southern rock music coming through the speakers as she took their order. She retrieved the menus and smiled. “Be right back with y’all’s cornbread.” She placed the menus at the central station and put in the order.

When she picked up a tray with an order for another table, the sound of a man laughing caught her attention. It was a laugh she recognized immediately, one she’d never forget because it’s what made her lose her concentration and blow the cheer squad tryouts the day before. Steadying the tray on her shoulder, she turned slowly in the direction of the laugh.

It was him all right—Tony Ramos, “ass passer,” as some of the girls on campus called him for a number of reasons, not the least being he was a first-class ass. He was seated in a booth against the wall, along with several big, burly, boisterous jerks, who Allison figured were his teammates.

Anger rose in her throat, and she tried to swallow it away. He must have sensed he was being stared at because he turned his head and, just like in the gym, his eyes locked with hers. He started to smile, then the recognition hit. She gave him the dirtiest look she could, hoping he could see her fury. That’s right, Ramos, she said to herself. It’s me, Allison Martin, the girl you humiliated in the gym, you cavalier jackass. His table was about twenty feet away and it almost looked like he wanted to say something to her. Well, maybe she should give him that chance.

She turned away a minute to collect her thoughts and think about what she was going to say. Oh hell. For once in her life, she was just going to unleash, let her emotions do the talking, let that jerk feel the full effect of her anger. She turned back around and marched forward—straight into Ramos, knocking the tray off her shoulder and sending it clanging to the ground, drinks and all.

“Dayum!” Allison closed her eyes and counted to five. This would be her third big spill in as many months. She could barely afford to pay for another mistake, but she knew her boss would dock her. Or fire her. She kneeled on the sticky floor grateful to be wearing slacks instead of a skirt today. She began to gather the ribs and fries and broken dishes onto the tray she placed on the floor.

“Here, let me help,” a male voice said. Allison looked up and was shocked to see Tony picking up the pieces.

“Criminy! Please stop,” she said angrily. “I’m in enough trouble without a customer helpin’ me clean up.”

“Yeah, but I feel responsible.”

She lifted her eyes and squinted at him. “For this or for cheer practice?”

“Both.” He shrugged.

He disarmed her with his directness. “I coulda blown my chances of gettin’ on the cheer team all by myself, ya know. I didn’t need any help, and I certainly didn’t need to get laughed at,” she drawled. She’d been planning to blast him, but that was the best she could manage under the circumstances.

“I know. That was a shitty thing to do,” he agreed. “Would you believe I was coming over to say I’m sorry?”

Allison tilted her head in surprise. Before she had a chance to respond, her manager called her name. “Martin! Here,” he barked, handing her a broom. He plopped an orange cone on the floor near the spill. “Your luck just ran out, Allison.” He pointed a finger and bellowed, “You’ve dropped your last tray. See me after your shift.”

“Bob, wait,” she called after him, but he kept on walking away. Allison felt her face redden as she rose from her knees holding the broom. Choking back tears, she refused to cry in front of a whole restaurant full of people.

Tony stunned her when he placed his hand on top of hers as she gripped the broom. “I’ll take care of this. You go take care of your other customers.”

Allison eyed Tony skeptically. She felt sure his intentions were sinister, but his expression was kind, almost angelic. He probably used that trait to his advantage with tons of girls, but it wasn’t going to work on her. Still, at that moment when everything else was going wrong, she really needed someone to be nice to her and she couldn’t refuse his offer.

When he nodded and gave her a quick wink, she was struck by the sparkle in his golden brown eyes. For a moment, the world turned sepia tone. The rustic wood paneling and mahogany tables took on an eerie glow. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, like one of those dreams where images from your waking life jumble together to form a storyline that sort of makes sense in the context of a dream, but in real life makes no sense at all. She finally slipped her hand off the broom and let him take it from her.

Allison turned and headed into the kitchen to wash the barbecue sauce off her hands. She gently stroked the top of her hand where Tony had just touched her. Shaking herself before any new thoughts could enter her head, she smoothed her apron and took a deep breath.

She replaced the fallen order and asked the cook to add an order of fries to make up for the long wait. The fries would be coming out of her final paycheck, along with the rest of the food on that dropped tray.

»»•««

“Hey Ramos, what are you doing?” one of his teammates asked. “We gotta go or we’ll be late for practice.”

“Go. I won’t be long,” he answered without looking up. Raking the broom over some broken glass, he glanced at his teammate and rose to his feet.

When Tony reached for his wallet, his teammate held up his hand. “I got it covered. You get it next time.”

Nodding, Tony said, “Thanks Larry. Do me a favor and tell Coach I’ll be right there.”

When Tony finished cleaning up the mess, he wanted to go talk to the girl about cheerleader tryouts and see if there was some way he could make it up to her. Seemed like he wound up making things worse today by crashing into her and putting her job at risk.

He spotted her at a table, setting some water glasses in front of customers. He was about to go over when he noticed the clock on the wall behind the counter. “You gotta be effing kidding me,” he mumbled. He pulled his phone partway out of his pocket to verify the time. “Coach is gonna kick my ass.” He briefly glanced at the waitress before heading for the exit.