by Sammi Cee
I dropped my head and stared at my feet while I kicked at some loose pavement with my shoe. “I just…” I didn’t really know what to say.
The first time Billy offered me a ride home was after my first shift. I was exhausted because my body wasn’t used to working such late hours, and he caught up with me while I was walking down the road. While I was relieved to have the ride home, I didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, and I didn’t want him to see where I lived.
But soon, one ride home became two, until I was catching a ride with him the rest of the week. Not to mention my surprise when I saw him parked outside my apartment when I was leaving to head to the bus stop to come to work one day. His excuse? He was in the neighborhood. How could I turn that down and opt to ride the bus when he was right there?
Every time he offered me a ride home after work and told me he’d see me the next afternoon, I’d politely refused because I didn’t want him to think I was taking advantage of his generosity. And it didn’t just stop with the rides to and from work. That reminder had me subconsciously running my hand down my shirt, as if to smooth out non-existent wrinkles.
The shirt and pair of pants I was wearing had come from Billy. He’d given them to me tonight and said I could have them since Sarge hadn’t gotten around to giving me a shirt, yet. The pants were because he said his ass had gotten too big so they didn’t fit him anymore, and he thought they’d look great on me. That, of course, was said with a deep sigh of regret. They really were great pants, and until he thrust them in my hands, I never would’ve considered wearing red ones. Though, I wondered why Billy had them in his car to begin with.
“We can discuss it in the car. If I’m beat, I can only imagine how a newbie like you is feeling. Let’s go.”
As if having a mind of their own, my feet moved to follow Billy to his car. He was right, I was pretty tired, but adrenaline was still thrumming through me over such a crazy evening, and I was finally getting used to the later shift.
“I can tell you’re apprehensive about being a waiter, but you did a great job tonight.”
I tugged at the collar of my shirt. “I’m the dishwasher.”
“Were. You were the dishwasher. You did awesome with that bachelorette party, and that stack of cash you made in the time you were out there shows you’re perfect for the job.”
“What if I mess up?” I finally asked quietly, voicing one of my biggest concerns.
“Who cares? You’re human, and it’s bound to happen. Hell, when I started, I spilled an entire tray of shots on a group of bikers. I was worried they’d skin me alive for new riding leathers, but they just laughed it off and even bought me a round because of how nervous I was. The patrons might seem rough and rowdy, but they’re good people. And they might razz you, but it’s their way of breaking you in. Relax, Davis. We’ve got you, and Sarge won’t put up with any shit.”
I still wasn’t convinced, but I could see what Billy meant. During what little time I’d been there, I could see it was a great place, and that Sarge really cared about his employees. He could see I was anxious about working as a waiter, and even tried to convince Ralph, Bull, and Billy that he’d figure something else out. But the other guys believed in me, and Sarge needed more people in the front. Knowing they all had my back had me feeling a little better about it, but I was still on edge about being so out in the open that way.
“Do you need anything before I drop you off? I know that corner store is open. Do you need to make a stop?”
“No,” I immediately told him. “I’m fi—”
“Do. You. Need. To. Make. A. Stop?”
“Uh, I could use a few things,” I admitted softly.
“Great. I’m craving chocolate.”
I rolled my eyes, but I turned my head so he didn’t see my smile. I knew he was using the chocolate as an excuse to make me feel better, but I was grateful for it.
I didn’t take long in the store, since I didn’t want to spend all my tip money, but I grabbed a loaf of bread, some peanut butter and jelly that was premixed in the jar, and also a cheap bag of chips. I could stretch that out to last a few days, and I still had some packs of noodles at home. But to know I’d have more food in my cabinets was a relief, and the thought of earning more tips had me buzzing with excitement.
Billy was waiting for me by the register, a half-eaten bar of chocolate in his hand. He didn’t bat an eye as the cashier rang up my purchases. When we were parked in front of my building, Billy merely gave me an easy grin.
“See you tomorrow, and no, you’re not catching the bus.”
I thanked Billy for the ride and grabbed my bag of groceries before I started to exit the car, but he stopped me.
“Wait, I have something for you,” he said, reaching behind his seat before hefting a bag over the console and dropping it on my lap.
“What’s this?” I asked as I stared down at the bag in confusion.
“When I was cleaning out my closet, I found the jeans you’re wearing and some other clothes. I didn’t know if maybe you’d want them? If not, it’s cool. I can donate them.”
I didn’t know what to say. Of course I wanted the clothes, but I was worried he was starting to see me as a charity case and not a...friend.
“Dude, they’re just clothes. Not the Holy Grail or something,” he quipped when I continued to stare down at the bag.
“I’ll look through them and see if there’s anything that doesn’t fit,” I finally managed to say.
“Sounds good. Now get out of here so I can go to bed. I need at least eight hours of beauty sleep or I wake up looking like a swamp monster.”
I thanked him again and left without him stopping me again. After I climbed the stairs, I let myself into my apartment and tossed the bags on my dumpy couch. As usual, I didn’t see his headlights disappear until I flicked on the lamp inside my apartment. And when I unloaded my food to put it in the cabinet, I felt my eyes sting with tears. I had reached such a low point in my life the only way I could go was up, right?
As I swiped a lone tear that coursed down my cheek, I reminded myself things were already better. I was earning a paycheck, and now tips. I’d be able to pay my bills, and now I had food besides noodles and nice clothes. All I had to do was make sure I didn’t spill a beer on a customer’s head or dump a tray of food on their lap, and I’d be golden.
Tarnished. I wasn’t golden at all. Or even bronze. I was that fake metal that turned your finger green. Why on earth did I think I’d be okay with being a waiter? As soon as Billy handed me the order pad and pen, I realized I’d made a colossal mistake. Being a dishwasher was safer. The dirty dishes didn’t talk to me. They didn’t place orders. They didn’t have the potential to make me feel uneasy. They were inanimate objects that I washed and stacked only for them to be used again.
“Come on, Davis. You’ve got this. Fake your confidence if you have to, but remember, you’ve got this,” Billy urged me.
“Why do I feel like you’re throwing me to some hungry wolves?”
“Because I am. But don’t worry,” he rushed to say when I gave him a look of panic. “They’re good guys. They’re regulars and the perfect group to learn with.”
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“Don’t think at all. They tell you what they want and you write it down. When it’s ready, you take them their order.”
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I could do it. That peanut butter and jelly toast I had that morning was too delicious not to. Besides, they seemed nice enough.
“I can do it,” I said aloud with more confidence than I possessed.
“You can. Go get ‘em.”
I quickly walked to their table, only stumbling once along the way, and plastered a fake smile on my face.
“What can I get you guys?” I asked quietly. My voice quivered and my entire body was shaking, but I refused to run away. Even though every fiber inside me was screaming to wash dishes instead of playing waiter.
&n
bsp; “What was that?”
I stifled a sigh. Of course they didn’t hear me. The music was playing loudly, and I’d barely spoken above a whisper. I could feel eyes on me as I repeated my question and spoke louder, but they weren’t from the men at the table. A quick glance around told me Billy and Sarge were both keeping an eye on me, and I had a feeling they were for different reasons. But knowing they were watching out for me had me feeling marginally better.
“I’ll take the chicken tacos and make sure to bring some hot sauce while you’re at it.”
“You sure like them spicy, don’t you, Hunt?”
The man called Hunt merely grinned. “More hotter, more better.”
Hunt’s friend barked out a laugh. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re bitching about your asshole burning tomorrow.”
“It’s worth it for Ralph’s tacos.”
I scribbled down his order and made sure to make a notation of the hot sauce, and then waited for everyone else to tell me what they wanted. Once I read their order back to them and they assured me it was correct, I rushed to fill it. Billy gave me a thumbs up along the way, letting me know I’d done a great job, and then I looked toward Sarge. He gave me a quick nod before grabbing a large mug and pulling a beer from the tap. I didn’t feel ready to breathe easily yet, since that was only my first table, and the fear I’d screw up was still simmering beneath the surface.
The rest of the evening went as I expected. I approached every table fighting the urge to tuck tail and run, but I kept my smile plastered in place. I only screwed up an order once by taking it to the wrong table, and I even caught myself when I lost my balance while carrying a tray laden down with glasses of margaritas.
Ralph and Billy reassured me that it was okay, and mistakes happened—they were expected, even. And even though the little blunders left me feeling discouraged, I soldiered on, and tried not to let my mishaps get the best of me. I kept scanning the bar to find Sarge. I didn’t want to let him down, especially since he was the one person to take a chance on me when no one else had, and his little nods of approval made me feel centered.
My cheeks hurt from smiling, I felt completely drained both mentally and physically, but when I saw how much I’d earned in tips, only then did I remember to breathe. I had enough to buy a few more groceries, and I could put back the rest with what I’d saved the night before. A tiny nest egg was starting to form, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it.
Sure, the customers tonight were nice to me, and the tips were great, but what about the next night? Or the night after that? Sure, Billy said they had my back, but if the place was busy, would they be able to come to my rescue? Or was that a risk I was even willing to take?
Chapter Four
Sarge
As much as I hated to admit it, I’d missed seeing Davis yesterday. He’d deserved a day off after working every day since he was hired, and I sure had needed one. Making my off-day Sunday to line up with his schedule kinda sucked since I enjoyed working that night. The musician who played acoustic on Sundays was an old friend of mine, but Davis had requested working as much as possible when I made him a waiter, and with him needing the money, I didn’t deny him, but he had to have one day off a week.
“We’re here,” Billy sing-songed as he walked in half-an-hour early with Davis trailing behind him like a duckling.
I grunted so it wouldn’t be obvious how eager I was to get my eyes on Davis, then narrowed my eyes at Billy’s pale-yellow skinny jeans and shimmery silver top. “What are you wearing?”
Billy sauntered to a barstool and hopped up, swinging his legs as he spun the chair in a side-to-side motion. “It’s my day off, remember?”
“So you’re here then why?” I held in my chuckle at the affronted expression that took residence on his face. He knew damn well I didn’t mind any of the guys hanging out on their day off, and they drank a couple drinks for free as long as they didn’t have a shift to cover, so I really wished they all would take me up on it more often.
“I’m here because Davis and I hung out for a bit before he had to be here. Is that okay, boss?”
Ignoring him, my gaze slid over to Davis. “You shouldn’t encourage him, you know? He’s going to take over your life if you keep paying so much attention to him. He’s like a chihuahua; he’s a yippy pain in the ass who expects to be carried around and fed.”
Davis, who was normally pretty emotionless and anxious, grinned widely. The pale blue of his eyes often drew my attention, but to see them light up with his smile was captivating. They twinkled like the sunlight off the ocean on a bright sunny day. Heat rushed through me as a myriad of filthy ideas sprang to mind about other ways to make his eyes sparkle like that.
I’d spaced out from my wayward thoughts, so I only caught the end of Billy’s whining. “... you agreed with him. And I thought we were friends. Maybe I won’t have dinner with you before your shift.”
Davis's legs shifted nervously. “Oh, I wasn’t going to eat or anything.”
Billy squished his nose like an offensive odor had drifted in. “Of course we’re eating. Why else would we be here earlier than your shift? Besides, you have to eat now since you can’t take a break tonight, not like you ever do anyway.”
My gaze jumped from Billy back to Davis. “What does he mean? You haven’t taken a break, ever?”
“Both Friday and Saturday night he used his break to get caught up on cleaning off and restocking tables, rolling more silverware, and running back to the kitchen to check on Ralph,” Billy tattled.
Davis's face shifted as he began to chew on the inside of his cheek. While fixing him with a stern glare, I took the opportunity for my eyes to drink in my fill of the way his body molded into a pair of dark gray skinny jeans with another black logo shirt for the bar. For fuck’s sake, when did I turn into the dirty old man perving on my employees? “When are you eating then?” I asked. He blinked hard and fast enough for me to worry that he was fighting tears from gaining my ire.
“I eat before I come in,” he said defensively.
Billy hmphed, but we both ignored him.
“Davis, you’ve been a damn hard worker. There are perks for working in a bar that has a kitchen,” I said.
“That isn’t always the case, Sarge. You’re actually incredibly generous.” I hadn’t realized before hiring Davis how much Billy didn’t shut the hell up. “Believe me, Davis. I’ve worked places where you didn’t even get an employee discount, even working a double. We’ve got it good here, so you should really take advantage of it.”
“Speaking of,” I said in a sickly-sweet falsetto to Billy. “Since you don’t work today, you can have a drink if you want, but you technically don’t eat free.”
Billy clucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “You’re right, unless I’m in the kitchen with Ralph, who will hand me scraps as he’s cooking.” He stuck his tongue out at me, then jumped down and headed toward the kitchen, turning to walk backward halfway there while he spoke to Davis. “He’s really full of shit, Davis. Sarge is a big ol’ softie and wouldn’t charge any of us for anything, unless he felt like we were trying to play him.” Then he went through the kitchen door.
“Um,” Davis said as soon as Billy was out of sight.
“Sit.”
He hurried up onto the recently vacated stool with downcast eyes.
“Have you made use of your employee meal even once since you started?” His flushed face was all the answer I needed. “Have you been bringing food from home?” He continued to sit in silence, so I nudged him. “Boy, I’m asking you a question.”
His gaze jerked from the countertop below up to mine. “No, sir.” A buzz of energy vibrated through me at his softly spoken “sir.” It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear from his pretty, plump lips, but close.
“I expect you to eat, b-”—I cleared my throat—“Davis. Saturday night was so crazy busy, you could’ve ended up passing out. And tonight, you work the floor alone, so you ne
ed your energy.” He blinked owlishly up at me. “Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“Use your words, please. I want your guarantee that you’ll come in early or take a break and eat every night.” He was a nice-looking guy, but I’d take pleasure in him thickening up under my watchful eyes.
“I promise, s-si-Sarge,” he stumbled out.
“Okay, go on back and tell Ralph what you’d like, then.”
He scrambled off the stool and cast one last confused glance in my direction. Shit. What the hell was that about? Boy? Sir? This was one road I needed to leave less traveled.
“Who’s the kid you can’t take your eyes off of?” Lawson asked
I grunted, which was apparently becoming my new form of communication. “New kid I hired to replace Ernie.”
Lawson watched Davis scoot around between two tables before snapping his fingers. “Isn’t that the dishwasher my nephew replaced?”
“Mhmm, you need another beer?” I asked to change the subject.
“So why can’t you take your eyes off your new waiter, old dishwasher?”
“For fuck’s sake, Law. What the hell is wrong with you? He’s new and learning the ropes. You know Bull’s off on Monday and Tuesday, so I’m keeping an eye on him until he gets the swing of things.”
Law snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, buddy.”
I clenched the rim of the bar-top in my hands as I leaned toward my friend. “He’s only a kid.”
Law glanced over his shoulder at Davis, then faced me. “Okay, he’s obviously over twenty-one or you wouldn’t have let him in the door, which makes him legal, but I’m not arguing with you. What are you doing here on a Monday night, anyway? You always take Mondays off.”
“You do?” Davis asked from right behind Law’s shoulder where I hadn’t been able to see him. My best friend and I were similar in height, weight, and muscle. The biggest difference between us was I wore my silver strands on my head and my face like a badge of honor and he’d kept his whole head shaved since his hairline started receding at twenty-two.
