by Alexis Gold
“I was about to leave for home when I saw some guy acting strange in the parking lot. He looked like he was waiting for something and kept watching you through the windows. My gut told me something was wrong, so I decided to wait and see. Obviously it was a good decision, right?”
She nodded, sitting down in a chair as her body suddenly became very tired after the events that occurred. He had possibly saved her life, yet something about that fact also frightened her. He seemed so comfortable and aggressive in the situation, as if he were frequently around masked men with guns. She looked up at him, shook her head, and sighed.
“You are full of surprises,” she whispered.
“So are you,” he countered. “What exactly did you think you were going to accomplish by being defiant to a stranger with a gun? Didn’t anyone ever teach you that your life is worth more than the money in the cash register?”
“I know that. One thing you need to know about me: I am very stubborn.”
“No, really?” he said with sarcasm. “I thought it was totally not stubborn at all to withhold money at all costs from someone who is threatening your life.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Besides, he was never going to shoot me.”
“How could you possibly have known that?”
“Knowing things is my specialty, just as yours is apparently to scare people half to death. What are you involved with exactly? Are you in a gang or something?”
“Possibly,” he chuckled mysteriously. “You’ll just have to stick around and find out.”
“Great, my chefs are always insane,” she yawned and rested her head on the table. Although Mason’s actions seemed fear-inducing, she also felt safe knowing he was there standing next to her. Somehow she knew he would make sure she was okay, even without his hand that rested on hers as a comfort.
“Don’t worry,” he ensured. “You will always be safe as long as I’m around. Do you want me to stay the night?”
Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “Are you already trying to climb into bed with me? I’ll have you know, it’s against my moral code to date my employee.”
“Ah, yes,” he said in a faux-serious tone. “Well, perhaps I’m not a very moral man.”
“Is that so?” she teased, feeling the warmth of arousal spread through her body.
“However, I know you are a good girl, so I’ll leave you alone,” he winked at her. “Let’s get completely serious, will you be okay here by yourself?”
She sighed, partially wishing she could say thank you to him in ways that did, in fact, involve immoral actions. “Yes, I’ll be all right. My brother should be back here any moment.”
“Okay, lock up then. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, five o’clock sharp,” he saluted her.
“Thank you, by the way,” she said.
He gave her a crooked smile as a reply and turned to walk out of the door. She slowly dragged herself over to the door and locked it, telling herself that she should get in the habit of locking the door right away, anyway. Gently sliding down to the floor, she rested her head against the cool glass window and closed her eyes, thinking back to a time when everything was fine and nothing was complicated.
“Would you like your usual today, sir? Black coffee and four pancakes – heavy on the syrup, right?” Sixteen-year-old Jasmine began writing a breakfast order for an elderly man who was a regular customer at The Morning Bell.
“You know me so well, sweetheart,” he gave a kind smile.
“Anytime, Oliver,” she smiled back, then ripped the small page out of her order pad and pinned it up in the chef’s window.
The café was buzzing with a gentle, early morning murmur. Mrs. Jones sat at a table with her two young boys, urging them both to calm down and eat their breakfasts. Linda, a friend of Jasmine’s from school, sat up at the counter on a bar stool, sharing a plate of bacon and eggs with her boyfriend, Tom.
Sheriff Richards coughed when he burned his mouth on still-hot coffee – a mistake he made nearly every morning. Her mother stood at the counter with a bright smile on her face as she handed a receipt to Rosie, an elderly woman who lived alone with several cats. Jasmine’s father, who worked as the chef of the café when Chef Bernard could not make it to work, was in the kitchen frying up several sausage patties to be placed on breakfast sandwiches for a to-go order – most likely for José, who was always on-the-go as a truck driver for local stores.
Calvin, who had just turned fourteen-years-old at the time, handed Jasmine her backpack. She grabbed it from him and placed it on her back, letting out a groan of discomfort. Her backpack was stuffed to the brim and bursting at the seams, full of heavy books and papers from old assignments. As much as she loved working at The Morning Bell, she never was the best organizer when it came to managing schoolwork. Her brother gave her a pointed look with eyes full of anxiety.
“It’s time to head to school, Jas,” he said, picking at his nails.
She could practically feel his fear of starting his first day of high school. He looked visibly terrified – not that she could blame him. High school was a terrible place. People try to trick teenagers by saying that high school is the best time of your life, full of best friends and first dates while preparing you for a college education. What they don’t tell you is that high school is just a building full of hormonal teenagers who can be categorized as the heart breakers or the broken-hearted or possibly somewhere in-between. Jasmine always fell in the “in-between” category.
Although she was very popular, Jasmine never dated much through high school. She was famous for her “flirtationships,” as dubbed by some lonely kid at school who thought he could start a rumor to knock her down. Unfortunately for him, the title backfired and made her even more desired among the boys at school. She had casual flirtatious friendships with many boys at school, but never felt the need to make anything official.
Her ability to read others was often the downfall of many boys who aimed to win her heart, as she was able to find the true, deceitful intentions that most high schoolers carry. Regardless of her own popularity, she knew that Calvin was dreading being seen as her “little brother.”
“Hey,” she said warmly. “It’ll be okay, I promise. We’ll get through high school together. You’ll make friends, study hard, and probably be bored out of your mind. Other than that, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m here for you, but from a distance so I don’t ruin your ‘cool guy’ persona.”
His nervous exterior cracked to allow a small laugh. “Thanks, Sis. I needed to hear that.”
“Anytime,” she ruffled his hair. Then, she removed her waitressing apron and untied her hair from its typical bun. Waving goodbye to their parents, Jasmine and Calvin walked out of the door together and off to school. The two had always been close, and as she walked to high school by his side on his very first day, she felt as if they could take on the world. Unfortunately, most teenagers feel invincible, especially in sibling pairs. She was happy and her life was perfect. She had a great family, successful business, and many friends.
With each year that she got older, however, she realized that the world suddenly took a series of turns when she least expected them, leaving her with the question: “How did I get here?”
“How did I get here?” Jasmine asked herself aloud. Although she still had the fantastic job she adored and lived in the town of her dreams, something felt missing. She no longer felt close to her family, with her parents in Florida and her brother trapped somewhere deep within his own mind. Although she had many acquaintances in Rootsville, many of her friends moved away. She barely had time to meet a man, let alone date one.
Though, perhaps her luck was looking up, as Mason was definitely a man she would attempt to date if given the chance. Regardless of his seemingly bad boy nature, she enjoyed his company. He captivated her with his deep, mysterious eyes and his heart-pumping charm.
Suddenly, she was shaken from her thoughts by a dull tapping at the glass: Calvin. She quickly leaped fr
om her sitting position and unlocked the door, guiding him to a chair. He looked terrible. His eyes were drooping with puffy, dark circles and his hair was frazzled in an array of directions. His clothing was askew and he could barely keep his cane straight on the ground ahead of him.
“What on earth?” she exclaimed, gasping at the alcohol-heavy stench that exuded from his pores.
“S-sorry, Sis,” Calvin slurred, slumping over in his chair like a toddler who was trying to stay awake.
“What happened?” Jasmine quickly ran over to the kitchen and grabbed a towel, soaking it in the sink as she grabbed a glass and filled it with water as well. Then, she made her way back to her brother and placed the towel over the back of his neck. When he gasped at the cold, she placed a hand on his shoulder and handed him the glass of water.
“The job did not go well, not at all,” he snorted and pouted his lip. “The job was bad, very bad. T-the people, though, they were fun – felt badly for me. S-so, I was invited to a party and had a good time. Parties are so much better than jobs.”
“Yeah, okay.” She rolled her eyes. “How much did you have to drink? How did you get home?”
He leaned in and held up his index and thumb fingers of his right hand in a pinch motion to show an amount and said, “J-just a little bit, like this much.” Bursting into laughter, he corrected himself by extending both arms stretched far across his body. “Okay, fine, I drank a lot – more like this much.”
“Come on, Cal. Let’s get you to bed,” she lifted him up and allowed him to lean against her so he would not have to use his cane. She slowly carried his body weight through the apartment door and up the stairs. After a small struggle through the apartment, the two eventually made it to his bedroom. He flopped down onto his bed and sighed as if experiencing the most comfort he had ever felt in his entire life.
“This is great,” he yawned, then smacked his lips together obnoxiously. “My mouth tastes funny.”
“You’ll feel better in the morning,” she lied, knowing the hellacious torture of a hangover.
Tucking him into his blankets, she suddenly felt like a kid again – taking care of her little brother, who truly needed her help now, more than ever before.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Jasmine awoke early and left Calvin’s bedroom to brew a pot of coffee for her brother, as she heard that coffee helps ease the pain of the morning after an alcohol binge. She had slept in the chair next to his bed to ensure his safety. It is an older sister’s duty to protect her siblings, which was a belief she held close to her heart. Interestingly, despite sleeping upright, she rested very well and her brother seemed to have slept well, too.
He did not wake up with nightmares, so that was a positive to Jasmine, at least. As she began grabbing a mug from the cupboard, she yawned deeply. Suddenly, her yawn was cut short and she breathed in sharply as she recalled the dream from the night before.
Images flashed through her vision. Mason’s naked, muscular body lifting her up against the wall. Warm kisses littering across her neck along with gentle bites. His fingers gripping into her hips while his groans of passion echoed loudly in her ear. Suddenly, the dream skipped to the two in bed together, intertwined and in love. His groans were replaced by his sweet chuckle as he pecked her lips with care.
Thoughts of her dream warmed her heart. She found it strange that dreams could have such an astounding impact on the way she viewed others in her life. It was as if it truly was unlocking some unknown feeling. Sighing, she shook away her feelings and went to go check on her brother.
When she reentered the bedroom, she found Calvin still fast asleep and hungover from the night before. Once he felt better, she would definitely make him explain himself – not even a single call to let her know he was okay. Furrowing her eyebrows, she set the coffee on the stand beside his bed and decided to let him sleep the hangover away.
She walked out, slowly closing the bedroom door behind her, and began preparing The Morning Bell for opening hours. As she set out a stack of plates, along with napkins and silverware, to be used throughout the day, she suddenly heard a knock on the door. Mason was standing outside and offered her a small wave. Her breath caught in her throat as the flashes from her dream suddenly invaded her vision again. Shaking her dirty thoughts away, she smiled and strode over to unlock the door.
Mason entered The Morning Bell and breathed in, as if absorbing the smell of dish soap and floor cleaner. Jasmine reached behind the counter and tossed him his apron and hair net.
“Thank you for coming so early,” she nodded politely. “You’ll need to wear the hair net at all times, even though I see you don’t have much hair.”
He laughed and shrugged. “Eh, I understand. Orders are orders.”
“Yes,” she said awkwardly.
“You okay, Jasmine?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Yes,” she repeated, looking around.
She suddenly felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. Thoughts of her dream entered her mind again as she watched him tie on the apron and secure his hair net. Strangely, the goofy outfit only seemed to heighten his attractiveness. Leave it to Mason to make a hair net look hot, she thought.
“Is it about last night?” he leaned in closer to whisper, causing goosebumps to break out all over her body. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before speaking. She was never one to hide her feelings around men, so she continued, “I suppose I just feel a little awkward. I mean, you did save my life and now I have to act like everything is completely normal.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. It never happened.” He winked at her and said, “Anyway, what would you like me to get started on, boss?”
“Well,” she began. “You can start by making some cooking preparations for various dishes. We open in an hour, so you have that time to start crafting breakfast sandwiches with eggs, cheese, and sausage patties. The trick is to slightly undercook it in the pan, because you will also be cooking it all together in the oven to keep it warm. That way, when customers arrive, they barely have to wait for fresh food.”
“Wow, that’s very efficient of you,” he said, impressed.
“Thank you. The people of Rootsville are perpetually in a hurry, and usually for good reason. So, it’s important to offer fast service. That’s one of the reasons why people love this diner so much.”
“Oh, they don’t love it for your beautiful smile?”
She gulped and laughed nervously. “To the townsfolk, I’m still the little kid that worked under her parents.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” he flirted. “I suppose they can’t see the gorgeous woman behind the ‘good girl’ image you portray.”
“Hey, now!” she exclaimed, her voice lightening. “I am definitely not a ‘good girl.’ I’ll have you know that I can be very bad in many ways.”
His tone turned challenging as he ran his finger up her arm, “Oh yeah? Prove it, then.”
“You need to get to work. The clock is ticking,” she said breathlessly.
He stared deep into her eyes for several moments, then slowly moved away – disappearing into the kitchen to begin working. What she would have given to press her lips deeply against his in that moment.
Unfortunately, she had to start working before the hungry customers rolled in through the doors. Although the customers were most likely not yet awake, her employees definitely were. She spotted several cars pull up into parking spots and halt, exhaust fuming from the tail pipes. Each one of her waiters and waitresses were doing different pre-work tasks in their cars. She felt as though the way one acted before work said a lot about the person.
Gwen, for example, sat in her pink, nondescript convertible car with a face full of makeup, looking as though she had already applied it hours earlier – with her top priority being to look great. Jasmine knew that Gwen had self-esteem problems from her arrogant
attitude that was easily deflated by a small amount of stress.
In her car, her head was glued to her phone as she giggled at an unheard compliment from her latest boy-toy. In the car next to her, a plain Honda Civic, sat Brooke who, contrary to Gwen, had not yet applied any makeup. Jasmine watched as the young woman applied a coat of mascara, started to apply another coat, but then got bored and pushed her makeup aside.
A big-wheeled SUV sat nearby with Trevor, her only male waiter at the moment. He looked frazzled and was quickly shoving a breakfast bar in his face. If Jasmine had to guess, he had probably awoken only moments before, throwing on his uniform and driving to work.
Finally, the last car currently in the lot was a small and cute Mini Cooper, driven by her newest waitress, Abby. Abby was sitting up straight, taking deep breaths and practicing a speech in her car mirror. Jasmine smiled. She loved her little café family.
