Love Hacked

“It wasn’t so bad.” I shrugged. “It actually helped me get over a head cold.”

“Hi, ladies. I’m Alex, and I’ll be serving you tonight.”

And just like that, conversation stopped.

All of us sat a little straighter, and turned our heads in unison.

Silence stretched as I watched the scene unfold.

Their reaction to just the three short sentences Alex had spoken confirmed my suspicions about Alex’s voice. He didn’t sound like Barry White, but the effect was the same. Alex had the most bedroomy voice of any man I’d ever heard. I glanced at the faces around the table and I knew, in that moment, that every single one of them was thinking about sex. Maybe not sex with Alex, but sex nevertheless.

He studied my friends. They, in turn, studied him, which is likely why silence stretched.

Most people in the food service industry look at a customer without truly looking at them. We are all just temporary faces in a sea of consumers.

But Alex was different. He looked at people with brash intensity, and he looked too long.

His eyes were challenging, assessing, like he was a con artist and we were each a mark; it seemed he was evaluating us, storing information about our appearance and character for later use. His gaze completely lacked the perfunctory and politely distracted yet appropriate ambivalence that was expected of one in his profession.

Then again, their interest could have been as simple as the fact that he was six foot three, blue eyed, black haired, intensely handsome, and broad shouldered.

After a protracted moment—during which each member of the group assuaged her curiosity and surprise by staring at him openly—he broke the silence. “I understand you’ve already given Shirra your drink orders. Do you need any more time to look over the menu, or do you have any questions?”

Ashley blinked at him, her eyes narrowed as though she were confused by his words, his presence, and the universe in general.

His gaze swept to mine and held. His fleeting whisper of a smile vanished, and his face solidified into an expression that conveyed nothing but professional indifference. But his assessing eyes behind the overtly nerdy glasses made me hot.

Zing.

“Should we wait for Marie?” Janie’s voice broke the spell. Of the group, she was likely the least aware of the social silence bomb that had just gone off at our table.

His attention shifted to her, and I noted the way his eyes moved over her face, hair, and body. I didn’t feel envious of Janie. In fact, I was relieved that he appeared to appreciate beauty, curves, and softness in the feminine form. Janie made for an excellent g*ydar. If I’d had her with me during a few of my first dates, she could have saved me a lot of time and the men a lot of therapy.

Before anyone could respond, however, angry shouts from the sidewalk filtered their way into the restaurant.

I turned toward the sound and was surprised to see Marie through the window, standing with her hands against the chest of a rather sinister-looking man as though she were trying to push him away. He was a hulking behemoth of a man, which, coupled with his look of fury, made him appear quite sinister.

I watched them for a moment, gauging the situation. I knew that Marie, who very much prided herself on fierce independence and self-reliability, would not typically take kindly to interference. I didn’t particularly like their size difference, the way the man was gripping her arms, or the set of his jaw.

When he gave her a stiff shake, causing her head and blonde curls to flop carelessly about her shoulders, I instinctively stood—as did the rest of the ladies. However, I had taken only one step toward the door when the lithe figure of Alex bolted past me. He quickly navigated guests, tables, and chairs and was out the door before the rest of us had crossed half the distance.

Through the window, I watched Alex pull the man away from Marie. Deftly, he tucked Marie behind him in a protective posture and addressed the man. Marie seemed to be in a daze, and I caught only the end of Alex’s speech as I exited the restaurant.

“…you need to leave.” Alex’s voice was so calm and level, it sounded almost bored. I found this strange, as most men in these situations shout in order to drown out their fear or to feed their adrenaline.

“She’s a lying bitch!” The thick-necked stranger’s eyes swung to mine. “I’ll show you. I’ll take it out right now and show you. Then you’ll see.” He reached for the button of his pants.

I got the distinct impression that this man was intent on showing me his penis. I cringed, preparing myself for the sight of a dick before dinner.

Alex held his hands up palms out. “Whoa, seriously, no one here wants to see that. You really need to leave.”

“Listen, you punk—you don’t want to get in the middle of this!” The sinister man bellowed, abandoned his zipper, and charged forward as though he were going to push past Alex.

Marie stumbled back a few steps, and I reached out for her and brought her into my embrace. Alex stepped to the side to block the man’s path and shoved him fast and hard, causing the man to stumble backward.

However, perhaps most surprising of all, Fiona charged forward and stepped in front of Alex—almost as though she were protecting him.

“Sir, you need to leave.” Her clear voice, full of authority, rang like a warning bell and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Alex moved as though to protect her as well. “What are you…?”

Without turning, Fiona lifted a hand to silence him.

The man’s face morphed from sinister to enraged. “I’m not going anywhere! This is between me—” he pointed at Marie, his eyes venomous, “—and her!”

“Sir.” Fiona held up her hands, palms out. “I suggest you leave right now before someone gets hurt.”

The man snorted; it was not a friendly sound. “Get out of my way, you bi….”

I tensed as I read his intent; he planned to go through Fiona, Alex, me—all of us to get to Marie. My arms instinctively pulled her closer as I prepared to flee into the building.

But I didn’t have to. Before I moved an inch, before Alex could intervene, Fiona—short of stature, mother-of-two Fiona—moved like a ninja lightning bolt and felled him. In what seemed like three seconds, the man was on the sidewalk, face first in the snow.

I gasped.

The man lay there motionless.

Fiona stood over him.

We all watched in a sort of suspended animation as we waited to see what would happen next. I was awestruck by Fiona’s completely unexpected mad ninja fighting skills.

Alex, who had initially lunged forward to assist, stopped and hovered a few steps in front of the felled man. He stood before me in profile, his eyes large, his mouth parted in surprise, and he didn’t quite seem to know what to do with his hands.

The bulky stranger shook his head as though overcome, his eyes searching for the cause of his knockout and finding only Fiona.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot like a boxer in the ring. “You need to leave—right now.”

He blinked at her, swallowed, and struggled slightly as he stood. Alex stepped next to Fiona and crossed his arms. They made an unlikely pair. Alex—towering and scowling—had all the appearance of danger, whereas Fiona, I was coming to realize, may have been the more lethal of the two.

The man unfolded himself gingerly; the wind had obviously been knocked out of him.

“Fine.” He said with obvious reluctance, his gaze bouncing between the two of them. “I just want to talk.”

“No.” Fiona shook her head. “But I’ll make you a deal. If you leave now, I might not call the cops.”

He flexed his jaw, features twisted with frustration, and his eyes moved to Marie’s. I felt her tense. After a prolonged moment, the man turned, straightened his shoulders, and walked away.

Marie released an audible breath.

“Are you okay, Marie?” Fiona asked between glances up and down the sidewalk as though she were looking for would-be assassins.

Marie nodded and twisted out of my arms. “What did you do to him?” she asked Fiona.

Fiona’s elven eyes moved among our trio of shocked faces. “Uh, I knocked him down.”

“Where did you learn to do that?” Alex openly studied her. Like me, he appeared to be seeing her in a completely new light.

“I took some self-defense classes.” Fiona shrugged as though our questions were unnecessary, and then she addressed Alex. “Will you call the police, please?”

Alex flinched and rocked backward on his feet as he said, “I can’t. I don’t have a phone.”

Fiona frowned at him. “Doesn’t the restaurant have a phone?”

“Yeah. But I don’t use it.”

Fiona’s eyebrows shot upward.

Alex quickly added, “I’ll ask Mr. Patel to phone it in.”

He turned swiftly then stopped when his eyes met mine; I registered surprise. Obviously, he hadn’t known I was standing behind him.

Alex grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his eyes a bit savage with sudden distress. “Are you alright?” he asked. I was startled by the abruptness and ferocity of his concern.

I nodded. Admittedly, I felt rather dumbstruck by the entire event, especially his readiness to charge outside and defend someone he didn’t know. As well, the way Alex was looking at me now made me feel a little breathless.