by Zoe Chant
But she’d been right about this place: it was different here. People seemed to value privacy a lot more than most. She hadn’t been asked any probing, uncomfortable questions about where she’d come from, where she spent her time, none of it. No obliquely racist questions about what a black girl was doing up here in rural white-people country, even. And when she deflected casual getting-to-know-you conversation, people took the hint and stopped.
Maybe it just was because Glacier Park was right next door, and everyone was so used to tourists coming by that they were bored of newcomers. Maybe it was just lucky. Whatever, Nina wasn’t going to question it. Not at all.
The diner was still slow at four PM, but Nina got moving fast, taking over Patsy’s tables as she went off-shift. She didn’t want to give Ethel any more reasons to be mad at her.
Things started to pick up as it got on toward dinnertime, and Nina’s tables filled up. She took orders, maneuvered her tray around the other servers, and kept a smile on her face.
That was the hardest part of the job, smiling all the time.
Nina had been working as a waitress since she was sixteen, and she’d always struggled with looking cheerful and friendly. Especially when customers were jerks.
It was hard, standing there with a smile while some asshole yelled at you because his burger was overcooked—like Nina had any control over how the burgers were cooked. In the early days, when she was still a scared teenager, bewildered and angry at the blows the world had dealt her, she’d occasionally snapped back.
But she’d quickly learned that that was an easy way to lose a job, and so she’d gotten control of her temper.
But it sometimes felt like even when she was human, the leopard was still there, deep inside her chest somewhere. And she couldn’t seem to smile when it was growling.
Tonight, there was a table of rowdy guys, there for burgers and beer. A lot of beer. She kept the smile fixed on her face and the leopard shoved way down, but it was extra-difficult. She was getting a lot of leers, a few crude comments. She’d started gaining weight again, and her curves were filling out.
Nina had a naturally curvaceous figure, and whenever she had a regular job and plenty of food, she filled out. Particularly in certain...key areas. It attracted attention, especially when she was waitressing. Most especially when she was the only black girl in the place, because apparently that made her butt much more interesting.
She gritted her teeth as the evening wore on, and her leopard started growling. Shift, the big cat seemed to say to her. Shift, and you could give them something else to talk about. Like your claws and teeth.
Stop it, she told the growling voice. That’s not how the world works. We want to stay in this town. This is a good job, and no one’s asking questions, and there’s all that space to run in the snow. You like running in the snow.
Her leopard had to acknowledge that that was true. But she didn’t stop growling at the beer-drinking guys.
Then the door opened, and the hostess was seating one of Nina’s favorite customers. Her leopard settled down almost immediately.
This was a good antidote to a group of drunk assholes, Nina thought, a smile appearing without her having to force it. It was the woman she privately just called Ms. Stylish, here with her husband.
Ms. Stylish was always nice, usually said something funny while they were ordering, and paid attention to Nina as though she was a person, not just a serving robot. Her husband was much quieter, but always gave Nina a warm smile and never leered, even when his wife wasn’t looking. And they tipped very well.
Today, they were with friends, another couple Nina had seen a few times already, and liked almost as much—a tall friendly guy, and his short blonde fiancée, both always cheerful when they came in.
“Hi, Nina,” said Ms. Stylish when Nina came to the table, smiling. She was wearing a gorgeous red dress with a truly beautiful diamond necklace—way overdressed for a diner, but she never seemed to care. And she definitely didn’t have the snotty attitude that sometimes came with clothes like that. “We might have one more, we’re not sure yet.”
Tall and Friendly rolled his eyes. “He’s going to cancel. Again.”
Short and Blonde punched his arm. “Give him a chance. He might show up.”
“Why change his ways after the last four times?” Tall and Friendly muttered.
“So,” Ms. Stylish said pointedly, “Nina, don’t worry about it—if he shows up, fine, but no need to wait around for him to get here.”
“No problem,” Nina assured her. “Can I start you all off with something to drink?”
They did the thing where they all looked around to each other, until finally Ms. Stylish’s husband said in his quiet voice, “Alethia, why don’t you start.”
Ms. Stylish smiled at him and ordered. Alethia, Nina thought. What a beautiful, exotic name. It fit her perfectly.
She had to admit it, she thought as she went to get their drinks. She was jealous of Ms. Stylish—of Alethia. She always seemed so happy, so nice, and she had that gorgeous husband who was clearly madly in love with her. And she had all these friends. Not just the cheerful couple here tonight, but a woman with an adorable baby and a few others. In just two weeks, Nina had seen her in here all the time with her friends, always smiling and laughing.
And there was something about her—about all of them. Nina didn’t know what it was, exactly. But when she was around them, her leopard just seemed to curl up inside her chest and relax. She wished she could figure out how to make friends with them herself, be part of that happy, laughing group.
But she couldn’t, she reminded herself. She couldn’t make friends. She couldn’t get close to people. That way led to secrets, to lying. Scrambling for explanations for things that didn’t make sense, like where she was living, where she’d come from, why she disappeared into the countryside for hours and hours.
And that was if she was lucky. If she wasn’t, there would be screams of fear, threats of violence or of calling the police.
Nina couldn’t be friends with normal people. She had to remember that. She was better off alone.
Remembering that, she put the fake, friendly smile firmly on her face and went back to bring Alethia’s group their drinks.
As she was setting down the last glass, in front of Mr. Tall and Friendly, his face lit up and he lifted a hand, looking past Nina’s shoulder to the door. “Joel!” he called.
The last member of their group must have shown up after all. Nina turned to welcome him, smile in place—and froze in place for a moment, mouth dropping open.
He was coming straight for the table, and he moved with a sort of a rangy grace that captured her eyes. He seemed to exude leashed power, like he was keeping himself to a casual walk for society’s sake, but at any moment he might explode into motion, and be gone.
He came to a stop next to her, as everyone greeted him and shifted around in the booth, and it was like she could feel the energy crackling off of him. She wanted to reach out and touch him, wrap a hand around that powerful bicep, and see if she got a shock.
Snap out of it, she ordered herself, with a sudden jerk. What was wrong with her? She’d seen plenty of attractive customers before, and she didn’t usually have to stop herself from putting her hands all over them.
He slid into the booth once there was room, and looked up at her. His eyes—
They were a startling silvery-gray color, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. And they caught her, held her motionless, her breath held in her lungs, her heart speeding up in her chest.
Her leopard growled.
She startled out of it, and fumbled for her pad and her pen. “Welcome to Oliver’s, I’m Nina.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears. “Can I get you something to drink?”
A long pause, and then he said, “Just water.”
His voice was deep enough to make her shiver. “One water, coming right up.”
She almost ran away from the table, wondering what
the hell had just happened.
She never reacted to men like that. She barely reacted to men at all—or women, or anyone. She’d tried dating guys when she was younger, eighteen or nineteen, but she hadn’t been able to have more than a casual relationship, not with the knowledge of her secret burning inside of her.
She’d only had sex a few times, and found it too—everything. Too close, too uncomfortable, too hot and sticky and strange. She’d avoided the possibility after that. And she never looked at anyone and thought, I’d like to have sex with that person.
When men looked at her like that, she usually felt the urge to run the other way. And most of the time, that was the smartest option.
But the way that man—Joel, Tall and Friendly had called him Joel—the way Joel had looked at her. The way his voice had resonated in the pit of her stomach. She had warm shivers running through her body, and she felt tingles deep inside her at the thought of him. His big hands touching her, his body pressed up against hers...
Stop it!
She took a few minutes in the back to breathe, get herself under control again, before she got the water and went back to the table.
Now that she was prepared, it wouldn’t be as dramatic, right? She’d just been surprised to see someone she’d actually felt attracted to, because it was so unusual for her. That was all.
But as she approached the table, her eyes were drawn to Joel again. And, she realized, he was staring right back at her.
Nina took a breath, set the water down, said, “There’s your water!” as fake-cheerfully as she could possibly manage, and whipped out her pad and pen. “Are we ready to order?” She kept her eyes fixed on the pad.
They all gave their orders, one by one. Nina carefully wrote down everything they said, digging her pen into the paper and concentrating furiously. Joel was last. He ordered a burger, and when he spoke in that deep voice, Nina’s resolve broke, and she looked at him.
He was looking back, again, but this time he was—frowning? He looked like she was something strange and mysterious that he couldn’t figure out.
No, she wanted to tell him. You’ve got it backwards. You’re the mystery.
“How would you like that cooked?”
It was surreal, having a normal back-and-forth about an order, like she did multiple times a day, while something else was simmering in the background. She wrote down medium well and stared at it; she was sure that was what he’d said, but she’d barely heard the words around the deep pulse of his voice.
“I’ll get this started for you all,” Nina told the table, her voice wavering, and escaped again.
She put in the orders and caught her breath. God. What was wrong with her?
Whatever it was, she had to pull herself together, because she was on thin ice with Ethel already tonight, and she had other tables to take care of.
Nina made the rounds, bringing out dishes, checking to see everyone’s food was all right, refilling drinks, all on autopilot. She deliberately didn’t look over at Joel. She hoped no one at that table needed anything, because her eyes weren’t going anywhere near it.
Instead, she stopped by the table of rowdy, beer-drinking men. They might be obnoxious, but at least she wasn’t strangely attracted to any of them.
“Everything all right over here, guys?” she asked with her bright fake-smile.
“Be better if you stayed a while,” one of them said, looking her up and down.
“Afraid I’ve got a job to do.” She kept her smile in place.
“Maybe some other time, huh?” another one said.
“Maybe we could just keep you here anyway,” said a third, and just as Nina was about to make her excuses and leave, he reached out and caught her around the waist, one meaty hand spread over her hip and part of her butt.
Nina froze. Her leopard snarled, Claw him! Bite him! Make him sorry he touched us!
“Sir,” she started, her voice trembling with the need to hold in her leopard’s rage.
She didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence.
“Let her go.”
The voice was quiet, but fury lurked in its depths. Nina knew who was standing behind her without turning around.
“Hey, why don’t you mind your own—uh.” The customer had twisted around in his chair as he talked, and Nina watched his squinty eyes go wide at the sight of whatever was behind her. His arm slowly pulled back.
The whole table was silent. Nina took a deep breath, said, “Glad to hear everything’s all right, gentlemen. You keep enjoying, now,” and turned to leave.
Which, of course, put her face-to-face with her rescuer. Joel.
“Are you okay?” His eyes were intent on her face. Nina was finding it hard to breathe, looking at them. Could that molten silver color really be natural? It sure seemed to be melting her.
No. No, she couldn’t melt. Not for some man with pretty eyes and a deep voice.
She had to be strong, had to be able to stand on her own. If she couldn’t keep herself going alone, she was done for. She’d known that since she was sixteen, and she wasn’t about to forget it now.
So she lifted her chin, looked right into those gorgeous eyes, and said, “I’m fine. I don’t need any help.”
His eyes slid past her to the table of men, but surprisingly, he didn’t try to argue with her. “My mistake.”
“That’s right,” Nina said steadily. “And now I have to get back to work.”
There was a long, long moment where she honestly thought he was going to say, Don’t.
But all at once he let out his breath, and said, “I’ll just be going, then.”
Then the tables were turned. Because her leopard hissed. No, don’t let him go. Keep him here with us!
The desire was strong enough that Nina actually opened her mouth, ready to protest Joel’s leaving. He’d stepped backwards, but he stopped, stock-still, his eyes fixed on her mouth.
She snapped it shut. What was she going to say? “No, don’t go, hang around me while I do my job”? This whole situation was ridiculous already, and her strange freaky instincts were making it even worse.
What is up with you tonight? Nina thought at the growling, apparently man-hungry leopard. I let you out for a run just today! You should be tired and happy!
Happy with him, her leopard insisted.
And that was why the human side of her was in charge, Nina supposed. Joel was turning away, and she kept her mouth shut—and her claws in—and watched him go.
He headed for the door, though, not the table with his friends. Nina frowned after him as he pushed out into the night, wondering what on earth his problem was.
Well, she was one to talk. Hopefully now that he was gone, everything would calm down. She shook herself, got out her pad and pen, and went to greet the table that had just been seated in her section.
The rest of the night was, fortunately, much less eventful.
The most awkward thing that happened was when she returned to Joel's table with all of their orders—including Joel's medium-well burger, which she had to set at an empty place, because he hadn't come back.
"Um," said Tall and Friendly as she set the plate down. Nina looked up. "Listen, I hope Joel didn't bother you at all."
"Bother me?" she repeated stupidly, because her brain was caught up in the sudden whirl of anxiety that always came from being noticed.
It wasn't safe if people noticed her behaving strangely. And something strange had certainly been happening earlier.
"Just, I saw that he went over to you before he left. He can be a little abrupt sometimes, and I wanted to make sure he wasn't rude to you or anything." Tall and Friendly smiled tentatively.
"Oh—oh, no, nothing like that," Nina stumbled to assure him. "It was fine. He was just—concerned."
"Concerned," Tall and Friendly's short blonde fiancée said thoughtfully.
"It was nothing!" Nina insisted, probably too strongly. "Enjoy your meal!" She tripped away, banging her hip on a chair in
her hurry.
Great, she thought, on her way back to pick up table seven's order. Now, in addition to everything else, Ms. Stylish—Alethia—was going to think she was a complete idiot.
She was never going to be your friend, Nina reminded herself. You can't have friends.
She repeated that to herself as she went on with her shift. When Alethia and her friends finished eating, Nina dropped off the check with as little eye contact as she could manage.
But then when the table was getting up to leave, and Nina was avoiding looking at them or coming near them, a soft hand landed on her arm. Nina started and spun around.
Alethia held up her hands. "Sorry."
"No—uh—no problem, I was just—" Just what? Just anxious and paranoid for no reason that she could explain? Just fizzing and on-edge from the first man she'd ever really been attracted to?
"I just wanted to say thanks for the great service and sorry about Joel," Alethia said with her usual warm smile. "I was a waitress for—well, a lot of years, and I know it can suck." Her eyes flicked over to the table of rowdy men, who were still in their booth, getting steadily drunker. "Don't let it get you down."
Nina nodded quickly. “Thanks.” She tried to keep herself from saying anything else, like, “Where were you a waitress? Was it here?” or the extra-pathetic “Will you be my friend?”
“See you soon, okay, Nina?" Alethia flashed her bright smile again, and then glanced over her shoulder, where her husband was waiting patiently by the door. "I should get going. Have a good night."
"You too," Nina said automatically, and watched her leave.
She finished up her shift mechanically, without paying much attention to what she was doing. Fortunately there was nothing complicated for her to screw up, and the drunk guys didn’t bother her any further.
She wasn’t sure if that was thanks to Joel’s intervention. She forced herself not to think too hard about it.
Nina closed up alongside Ethel, and ended up the last one there when Ethel had to run home to bring her daughter some things for her latest grandkid.
She stood in the office at eleven-thirty, looking at the desk. She glanced around as though there might be someone lurking in the shadows to see her, but she was totally alone.
