Chapter 30
1239 Words
Jesse had something against me. I could feel it when he glared at the back of my head as I picked up the first load of plates to take out to the front of the restaurant. We haven’t been open for more than fifteen minutes and he wants to boil me alive. I had thought it was going well for the most part until I dropped a tray in the kitchen and had broken five plates.
I’m pretty sure they won’t be rehiring me after that.
A prickle of sweat beaded at my hairline. I resisted the urge to reach up and wipe it away. Instead, I focused with all my strength on keeping the large smile on my face and the plates balancing on my arm steady. I was thankful they hadn’t put me straight on taking orders. I was more or less the buss-boy for now. Running plates to tables when it got busy—which seemed to be all the time judging by the harsh opening—and cleaning tables.
It was fine, I told myself. If I had to endure this for a nice paycheck, then so be it. This was the real world and I would just have to get used to it.
But getting used to it was far different then liking it.
I came back to the kitchen, hands sweaty from nerves after the old white lady at the table with who I could assume was her younger husband, gave me the stink eye. I don’t know what it was about me that made everyone want to stab me in the face, but I was really getting tired of it. They could f*****g look away if they didn’t like me that much.
I rounded the corner to get a brief moment of peace before I had to go back out there. My back pressed against the wall and I let out a loud sigh. If I had known it would be so harsh around here, I would have thought twice about signing up for this. But I knew in the end that I would have taken the job anyway.
My peace didn't last long. Even though my body was aching, my feet were probably swollen, I wasn't at my pushing point yet.
Jesse rounded the corner. He gave me a less than impressed look. It made him look a lot older, fine lines deepening on his forehead and around his mouth. It wasn't a look that went with the rest of him.
I couldn't help but think about him on the stage. My eyes drifted down, imagining his taught stomach through the white shirt. His face had been serious when he'd pounded that woman's wet cunt. She'd loved every rough second as he took what he wanted from her. Looking at him now, in a completely different element, I didn't know what the appeal was. Yeah, he had a good body, but his attitude ruined that.
"If you're done ogling me, you have a table."
I snapped my eyes up. My cheeks burned.
I shoved away from the wall and strode out to the kitchen. Whatever.
Jesse followed me, throwing a towel over his shoulder and went over to talk to one of the cooks. He glanced my way, scowling in the way that he saved up for me.
What the hell was his problem?
I couldn't think of anything I'd said or done that would have pissed him off so much. With the shake of my head, I tried to focus on getting through the rest of the night. There had to be a reason why he hated me so much, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure it out. Maybe I was wrong about him and the situation between us. Perhaps he hated me for no other reason than because he couldn't stand me.
That reason wasn't enough for me to let it go. It made me feel a little sad that I couldn't win him over for some reason. I didn't owe him jack s**t. Just like how I didn't owe anyone anything.
"Table 14!" A dish was pushed out on the counter and the bell was wrung. I slid over and picked up the two dishes. My hand slipped for a moment, almost causing the plate in my right hand to tip, but I righted it at the last second.
Close one.
I held my breath as I pushed through the two large doors leading out to the dining area. After working for just a few hours I'd gotten used to picking up the plates and walking out in the uncomfortable shoes. The only thing I hadn't gotten used to was how everyone ignored me. The patrons and guests sitting at their lavish tables never once spared me a glance, even if I was the one bringing their food or taking their orders. They just didn't have the time or the want to look me in the face unless they wanted to complain about something.
When I walked out to table 14, I'd expected the same thing. To be ignored or snided at because I was the waitress.
I lowered my eyes as I came toward the couple.
"Broccoli alfredo and sesame glazed steak?" I asked with a slight inflation of my voice. I resisted the urge to clear it. My nerves spiked higher when no spoke.
I raised my eyes, hoping I had offended anyone in my choice.
My heart dropped to my stomach.
Amelia gestured to the empty spot in front of her. "I had the sesame glazed steak."
If it wasn't for the glared in her eyes, I wouldn't have known she'd recognized me. Of course, she would have known it was me, but for a second, I'd hoped that she would pretend that we were strangers.
I sat the plate in front of her. It didn't go unnoticed how badly my hand was shaking.
I couldn't get myself to look at who was dining with her. There was only one person who would be with her tonight.
I sat the plate in the spot in front of him and tilted my head down so that my face was hidden.
"Can I get you anything else?"
Amelia cut into the steak. She was ignoring me.
"A refill, please." He held up his water.
I took it. Our hands brushed. I snatched my hand away, the thin glass on the verge of breaking in my hand.
"Right away, sir."
I almost tripped on my way to the back. I slammed through the kitchen doors, knocking shoulders with Jesse.
"What the hell? Slow down!" Jesse grabbed my arm, but I wiggled out of it. "What's your problem?"
I raised the glass. "I'm doing my job. What's your problem?"
He looked like he'd just been slapped. His face darkened after the initial shock wore off.
"I don't have a problem."
I rolled my eyes, then bit my cheek. I knew I was going to get into big trouble after this. It was too bad I couldn't find a single f**k to give.
"Then stop trying to get a rise out of me. I don't know what I did to make you so butt hurt but f**k off."
I left him gaping as I strode to refill the cup and hopefully get the f**k out of here.
- Writer
