A Name to a Face
826 Words
“You are needed at table three”
I nearly dropped the plates I was carrying and spun around, scanning the room until my gaze locked onto table three. Oh, no. It couldn’t be.
It’s him— the enigmatic guy from before. Those piercing blue eyes, felt like they could see through me. You know, the kind of eyes that could stand out in a crowd of clones. Unless I’m completely deluded.
But why’s he here again? I mean, I’m a waitress, sure, but why would he ask for me specifically? Part of me wants to invent a teleporter just to zap myself out of this situation. But another part of me was ridiculously thrilled to see him.
Which is just plain weird, isn’t it? Wanting and not wanting at the same time.
But hey, maybe it’s just my life.
I hesitantly made my way toward table three, heart pounding like it was a race with my chaotic thoughts. I don’t know why, but suddenly it feels like there’s a marching band in my chest. It could be because I’m trying to figure out why he’s back. Maybe because I look like like a tornado survivor — messy hair, face desperate for a nap, and my apron looking like It’s been through a spaghetti explosion. Or maybe it’s because I can’t believe someone like him is actually, genuinely looking in my direction.
He had a business magazine in his hands when I approached.
“Um, hi,” I stammered, feeling like I was the one who was malfunctioning. My throat decides now’s the perfect moment to start acting up, so I cough to try to sound somewhat normal.
Holding my order pad in front of me, I mustered the most awkward smile ever. Facing him feels like meeting a superhero and forgetting how to speak.
“Hello! Good afternoon. What can I get for you?” I managed to sound composed, but my brain was all over the place.
He hesitated a beat like he had more to say.
“White toast, bacon on the side, and coffee.”
Given our recent run-in, I figured Ethan would be one stuck in my head. But nope, it’s Mr. Mystery here. Maybe it’s because he paid attention to me, unlike most people.
“Aren’t you gonna write that down?” he asked.
“Nah, I’ve got a steel trap for a memory,” I retorted. Seriously, did he think I was a newbie? I mean, I am but seriously?
“You sure?” He asked
“Totally. Got it locked in?”
“ you’re not gonna forget?”
Dude, do I look like a forgetful goldfish? “No, I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.”
“I didn’t mean -“
“Relax, it’s all good.” I rolled my eyes a little. “ I’ll get your coffee “
“By the way, how’s your wrist?”
Ugh, the last topic I wanted to deal with.
“Fine,” I muttered, tugging my cardigan to hide the bandaged wrist. Great, now he’ll pry.
I spun around to leave, but I could practically feel his gaze on me. Ethan was the only one who ever really noticed me. Having this good-looking guy scrutinizing me was making my stomach flip. Not in a bad way though. But seriously, Ethan was right - he was probably the best I could hope for.
I kept tugging my sleeves as I walked back. god, I still don’t know his name. I caught my reflection- messy hair, pale skin, exhaustion showing. Yep, Ethan wasn’t far off.
“ That sleeve’s going to hate you for the stretching, you know,” he said with amusement. I was back with his coffee
It’s just a sweater, who cares? “Need any creams?”
“Seems I’m unforgettable,” he quipped.
Seriously, what’s the matter with the sarcasm? Does he think I’m some kind of punchline?
I piled out my creamer pods from my apron pocket.
Then, a sharp pain shot through my wrist.
Ouch.
“You good?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I sighed, trying to fend off the sympathy. I wanted no part of that.
“Really?” He looked puzzled.
“Yeah, we’re done,” I explained hastily, wanting to set things straight. I could practically see him forming conclusions about me.
“Doesn’t seem to be taking the break up too well,” He said
”He’ll bounce back,” I said, hoping that sounded nonchalant enough. The last thing I wanted was this stranger’s pity.
“I don’t get -“
“Can we not? Seriously, I appreciate what you did yesterday, but I’d rather not discuss it anymore.”
He grinned. Okay
“Elizabeth! Customers!” Mike’s voice cut over “Stick and move, will ya?”
“Duty calls.”
“Sure thing. By the way, I’m Jacob.”
Jacob huh?
- Writer
