by Maya Hughes
Looking back down at the book in front of her, she moved to push up glasses that were no longer sitting on her nose. Even after wearing contacts for five months, she still caught herself engaging in the old habit. Jen had dragged her to the one-hour eye-care store and practically forced her into the chair to get these things, but when her head was in the books, she reverted to muscle memory. It was time to get ready for the evening ‘rush’ anyway.
Hopping off the stool behind the bar, she grabbed a dishrag and started to wipe down the already-clean bar. Sighing as she worked, she realized this was likely going to be a long and unprofitable night.
She hoped that it would be busy later, but not so busy that she didn’t have some time for studying. She wanted to get all the dinner prep out of the way now in case she got her wish. Torn between not wanting to interact with people and needing to put some cash in her pocket, she decided that hoping for just a few tables would be a good compromise.
The restaurant was usually slow this time of year. New Jersey shore towns were notorious for shutting down once summer was over, and it was late October. The only reason they were still open was because Ben, her boss, wanted to drum up some extra business with the filming crew that was set to start production in a couple of days. She’d begged him to keep her on as his fall waitress. Even at a shitty waitress minimum wage, she earned great tips during the summer and had lots of study time during the fall, while still making a few extra bucks.
Get paid to study? Yes, please. Only one more year and she’d graduate with her bachelor’s in computer science. Staying in town off-season helped keep her costs—like rent—down, and the commute to school wasn’t too bad from there on the train. She still didn’t know how she convinced Jen to stay there with her, but being away from her dad seemed like enough of an incentive for Jen. At least in their apartment, she was left to her own devices and could sketch and paint to her heart’s content. Jen’s dad did not approve of her artistic pursuits and took every chance he had to make sure she knew it.
“Hey, are you guys open?” said a voice from the door. She’d told Ben repeatedly that they needed to keep it locked until she was ready for the evening shift, but he never listened. She put down her bar towel and turned to greet the man.
“If you can just give—” The words stuck in her throat as she stared into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He walked up to her in his pale blue t-shirt that only helped bring out his eyes. Even from afar, the guy was seriously ripped; his chest strained against the fabric of his t-shirt, and his slight five o’clock shadow and tousled chestnut hair were seriously threats to her sexual sanity. Judging by his arrogant smirk as he sauntered to the bar, he knew what affect he was having on her.
“My eyes are up here,” he laughed, waving a hand in front of his chest.
“Right, sorry!” She jerked her eyes away from those amazing pecs, embarrassed to have been caught staring. “Um, we’re open as soon as I can get everything set up. Just a couple more minutes. You can grab a booth, if you don’t want to wait outside.” It was a rainy, crappy day, so she didn’t really blame him for trying to get out of the cold.
“Yeah, no problem; I’ll grab a seat. Take your time.” He smiled as he made his way over to the booth closest to the bar.
She walked into the kitchen to let Ben know that they had a real live customer. He nodded, but kept chopping vegetables.
“Oh, and when’s the film crew supposed to show up?”
“Today,” he grunted, “and it’s about time too.”
“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know when they get here.” She headed back out to ask Mr. Hottie for his order.
“Oh, and here’s the menu. It’s kind of short; we like to keep it simple off-season to make sure everything is fresh,” she explained.
“I’m sure whatever you have will be delicious,” he replied as he scanned it. His phone vibrated on the table and he glanced at it, then held up a finger to her.
“Give me a couple of minutes. I need to take this, then I’ll order.”
“No problem. Take your time.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and ducked her head as she backed away from the table, and promptly slammed her hip into the table behind her. “Son of a—,” she mumbled as the silverware on the table rattled. Smooth, Alex, smooth. She righted herself and turned to walk away, cheeks aflame.
She quickly moved around the restaurant, trying to look busy. There wasn’t too much prep because she didn’t anticipate many customers, but she didn’t want to just lean on the bar and appear to be waiting, either. She could feel Mr. Hottie’s eyes on her as she moved around the restaurant, and goosebumps formed on her arms. She peeked at him every so often while he was on the phone, and each time she did, his gaze was on her.
Finally, he hung up the phone and gave the one-page menu a quick once-over, then laid it on the table. Dumping her algorithms textbook into her backpack, she tucked it behind the bar and walked back over to his table. His gaze tracked her from the time she made it out of the double doors from the kitchen until she was standing tableside. It was a little unnerving to have someone watching her so intently.
Her apron was clean and she thought that she looked at least presentable, but fading into the background was what Alex did. Having someone take notice of her was usually not a good thing. It freaked her out a bit, but she tried not to let it show. She started to squirm until she realized he was probably only looking at her because he was waiting for her to take his order.
She cleared her throat and pulled out her note pad and pen. “What can I get you?” Even though he didn’t have many choices, force of habit made her write it down. You never knew when you were going to encounter that one super-picky, exacting customer who wanted eight condiments layered in a specific order.
“I think I’ll just go with a cheeseburger and fries.” He handed back the menu, grazing her fingers. A slight shock travel up her spine.
“Excellent choice!” She broke finger contact and cleared her throat. “How do you want your burger cooked?”
“Medium.”
“Okay, perfect. And to drink?” He licked his lips and ran his thumb over his upper lip as he thought it over.
“I’ll have a Coke,” he replied, but she had zoned out, her gaze glued to what his thumb was doing. He had the most perfect mouth she’d ever seen. She shook her head because she was not this type of woman. She was not the swooning, giddy kind of girl, but Mr. Hottie was making her all kinds of flustered.
“Great,” she answered, snapping her gaze back to his eyes. “I’ll just put in your order; it shouldn’t be long.” She speed-walked over to the window and gave the ticket to Ben.
He glanced at it and tossed it back on the window ledge. “That movie crew was supposed to be here three weeks ago. Had I known they were going to start this late, I would have closed us down, taken Maggie on a nice vacation and reopened,” he grumbled as he moved to the grill.
“But then you wouldn’t have been able to see my smiling face every day,” she chirped.
“Yeah, well you better hope the crew members are big tippers or this week is going to be rough for you.”
She took the guy his Coke. “It shouldn’t be very long. Ben’s just dropped your fries.” Curious about who he was, she couldn’t walk away. She started rocking back on her heels. Feeling awkward, she started to bounce while she stood there. She wasn’t normally so nervous around customers, but she didn’t usually get customers who got her panties wet by just looking at her.
“So, are you part of the movie crew that’s coming through? Or just passing by?” She tried to cut the awkwardness.
“Yeah, I’m here for the movie. I’m in a little bit earlier than most of the circus. Just a few crew guys around; I told them this place was open, so you should expect more company soon. This town is dead.”
“Well, that’s pretty standard in the off season in a shore town. You guys are only here for a few of weeks? I didn’t think they filmed movies that
quickly,” she said.
“Why don’t you sit down? You’re making me nervous standing over me.” He smiled and gestured to the seat across from him in the booth.
“Sorry. Yeah sure, no one else is here.” She looked to the window to see if Ben was watching, but he was busy cooking. He didn’t mind her studying when no one was in the restaurant, but if there were customers, then there was no slacking allowed. The last time she’d been studying when there were customers in the diner, he’d made her clean the fat trap in the fryer for a week.
Satisfied that she wasn’t in imminent danger of being elbow-deep in the grease pit again, she slid into the booth. He reached his hand across the table and held it out for a handshake.
“Gabe.”
“Hi Gabe. Alex,” she said, placing her hand in his. His hand was strong and smooth, but slightly calloused on the fingertips. She relaxed her fingers and moved to pull her hand back, but he held on just a bit longer and brought their hands down to the table, still clasped.
She shoved her hair behind her ear as an excuse to remove her hand from his. She didn’t want him feeling her hands getting sweaty or her pulse racing.
“And to answer your question, no, not usually. We already did a lot of the filming—we’re just doing reshoots. Major reshoots. That’s not usually a good thing. I’m one of the leads, so this may be my first and last rodeo.” His shoulders slumped a bit.
“The lead? Wow, that’s cool! I’m sure it’ll work out and everything will be great. What’s it about?”
“It’s kind of top secret. I’d love to tell you, but I’ve had to sign a mountain of waivers and non-disclosures.”
“Wow, sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“No, don’t be sorry. I can tell you that it’s a love story with a twist.”
“Sounds intriguing. How long have you been acting?”
“Not long. They had an open call in Philly for this role and my friends dared me to go. I didn’t have work that day, so I figured, why the hell not.” He shrugged. “And the rest, as they say, is history. What about you? How long have you been waitressing?” The ding of the kitchen bell cut her off before she could speak.
“I’ll be right back; let me get your food.” She stood up and walked over to the window. “So, I take it Mr. Romeo over there is trying to woo your panties right off, huh?” he said with a big goofy grin on his face.
“Shut up Ben,” she muttered, “it’s slow. What else am I going to do?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” The weird kissy noises and smooch-lips faces he was making made her laugh. There was just something about a giant guy in a white t-shirt making kissy faces that was hilarious, even if he was making fun of her.
Just then, what seemed like a busload of the crew came streaming into the restaurant. Within a few minutes, she was pushing full steam ahead taking orders, getting refills, and delivering food to an entire restaurant full of people.
At least ten more tables of very hungry people kept her busy after the initial rush, and a few even hung out at the bar. She was run ragged from handling both waitressing and bar duties by the end of the night, but tips were generous.
Mr. Hottie hung out for the rest of the evening, even as some tables cleared out. She would catch his eye every so often. She liked having him there—she’d never had someone look at her like he did. It was like he wanted to eat her up, and the feeling was mutual. As she was making her last rounds for refills and dropping the final checks, she noticed he’d left. Disappointment crashed over her. Apparently, she’d lost her chance with Mr. Hottie, but hopefully he’d make it back in. After all, he was going to be there for a few weeks.
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About the Author
Maya Hughes is a contemporary romance author. She’s a mom of 3, wife to one awesome husband, enjoys lots of wine…lots, procrastinating, comfy pajamas and a nice cappuccino.
When she's not reading or procrastinating, Maya can usually be found in the writing cave trying to get her characters to cooperate and tell their stories.
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