by Amelia Shea
He was sweet and charming with boyish good looks. Tall and thin with brown shaggy hair and hazel eyes. He wasn’t gorgeous by Hollywood standards but Sadie was smitten.
From the day they met she was hooked. He told her he loved her after a month together. They had sex two months later. All her romance novels ruined it for her. It wasn’t romantic—it was painful and she was relieved when it was over. Their sex life got better, which was to say it no longer hurt. She learned early on that when it came to sex, Tyler was a taker not a giver. She could never climax during sex. She started to fake it when he got angry that she couldn’t come fast enough. He went down on her twice—in two years. Both times she faked an orgasm about ten minutes in. After he’d leave for the night, she’d take care of it herself.
Best present she ever received—the bunny. She had found the silver wrapped present in her locker after a shift on her twenty-first birthday. The card read, “Happy Birthday and enjoy!” Her face turned bright red when she opened the box to find the pink bunny-shaped vibrator surrounded by tissue paper. It took her weeks to finally take it out of the box and days after to finally get up enough courage to try it. When she did, that bunny changed her life. Thank you, Pearl!
It became obvious to Sadie that Tyler wasn’t everything she originally thought. He told her he loved her but he never asked how her day was at work. He didn’t take her out often and when they did, he always asked her to spot him the cash ’til payday. He didn’t call her just to say hi or tell her he was thinking of her. But still she stayed until their second anniversary. That was the final straw.
After a surprise visit to his place for their anniversary she caught him cheating. It could be best described as “caught in the act,” literally. She was heartbroken, she cried. In the privacy of her home, she yelled, she screamed, and she swore vengeance on him. And ultimately, she healed. She mourned the loss of their relationship.
It’s amazing how clear she saw relationship when she was no longer a part of it. She wasn’t in love with Tyler. She was in love with the idea of being in love. She cried but mostly because the companionship was gone. She didn’t really miss Tyler, she just missed being with someone.
Sadie got up from the couch and headed to her room. She’d had enough of old memories for one night.
Chapter Three
“The way he’s always watching you.”
Melinda’s words had replayed in her mind for the last twenty-three hours.
She tried to recall a time when she had seen him watching her but couldn’t. It was she who watched him. A few times, while she was staring at him, he looked over. Their eyes met and she glanced away, embarrassed at being caught. Her face usually flushed, and she’d nervously find something on the opposite side of the diner to clean up. That only happened a few times. He rarely looked her way. Or had he?
She had hoped he would come in again but so far, he hadn’t. He had come in every night that she worked the past two weeks. On her day off, she managed to ask Pearl nonchalantly about whether he came in or not. Pearl didn’t make her suffer by teasing her, she simply said, “Nope, not yesterday. Isn’t it funny how he only comes in during your shifts?”
At the time, she thought it was coincidence. She was just happy she didn’t miss him. But now, with Melinda’s words popping back in her head, Sadie wondered. Was he watching her?
A waving hand captured her attention as her impatient customer gestured. She took a deep breath and walked over to table four.
They were few and far between but everyone got them—the complainers. This one was hers. He had returned his chicken because he said it was overcooked, which it was not. He had her bring him another soda claiming she brought him diet when he specifically asked for regular.
Sadie stood at the edge of his table and plastered on a smile.
“Can I get you anything else? Dessert?” Sadie had learned to just smile, even with the meanest of customers. Some girls, like Melinda, threw sass but Sadie took the high road, kill them with kindness. She hated confrontation, and tried to avoid it at all costs.
“The check. Now!” His tone was rather rude and without eye contact.
She tallied his bill as he reached for his wallet. His wedding band caught her eye, large white gold with diamonds surrounding a red ruby in the center. Someone married this asshole? He was wearing a business suit, not the usual Bernie’s customer. He had the appearance of one who didn’t frequent diners. Sadie noticed earlier he kept checking his phone—maybe he got stood up by his mistress. If so, that was a very smart woman. He didn’t look all that bad, mid-forties, and in decent shape. He was mildly attractive, but his nasty attitude canceled that out.
Sadie barely had the chance to put the check down before he snatched it from her. She backed up when he abruptly came out of the booth and stood. He threw cash onto the table and stormed out the door. She watched as he left. While he looked mad, and in a rush, she noticed something else. It seemed to be a combination of nervousness and fear.
She grabbed the check and cash and counted it as she walked to the register. He left, a ten and three singles for a $12.82 bill. Yep, asshole!
“Can I get a refill?” A gruff voice bellowed from table six.
Sadie looked at the bearded potbelly trucker with his cup raised. She gave him a smile and held up a finger. She turned around, switched out the pot, and brewed a new one. These truckers drank more coffee than anyone else. It made sense because they had to be up all night driving. Sadie was perplexed by it though. Two cups and she was a jittery mess. These guys drank two cups in one sitting.
She grabbed the pot. It was time to make up for the asshole’s lousy tip. The Walk. She snickered to herself every time she thought of it.
She did “The Walk” over to Mr. Bearded Potbelly. Sadie was taught by the self-proclaimed best waitress ever, Cindy Morris. Cindy was a larger than life type of person. When Sadie first started working at Bernie’s, Cindy intimidated the hell out of her, but as she got to know her, she came to appreciate her.
Cindy worked at the diner for years, up until a year ago when she met “the love of her life.” Cindy was a legend at Bernie’s. There were rumors of blowjobs in the bathrooms and flashing her boobs for a larger tip, but Sadie never witnessed any of it. However, there were some truckers and locals who were very upset when Cindy left town with her new man.
As Cindy told the story, when their eyes met, the Love Gods shined down on them and true love was born. They couldn’t stand to be apart and drove off into the sunset in his eighteen-wheeler. The rumor mill was less romantic. She waited on him. She banged him, got knocked up, and married him. They did drive off in his eighteen-wheeler truck; that much was true. Cindy got her man and “out of this shitty job in this shitty town.” But before she did, she taught Sadie “The Walk.” It was a slow stride of ass and hips swaying, and a bounce in the step, sultry not slutty, Cindy explained. She also said Sadie was a natural. Sadie was still trying to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult.
Either way, she found out quickly. Done the right way, she could double her tips. Truckers were usually good tippers. But the cleavage, combined with “The Walk,” always helped.
With a plastered smile, hips swaying, and a slight bounce Sadie walked over with the coffee. Mr. Bearded Potbelly watched her as she neared him. He fully appreciated “The Walk,” as most men did. His eyebrows cocked up and the ends of his mouth curled into a grin. Yeah, full appreciation.
“Hey guys, I didn’t forget you, I promise. I was just waiting on a fresh pot for you,” Sadie sweetly said as she reached the end of their table.
Mr. Bearded Potbelly grabbed his cup in his left hand and raised it. While waitresses definitely had their top earning tips secrets, the truck drivers had their own. They knew how to get as much bang for their buck, or in this instance, as much cleavage for a tip. Sadie now had to lean over to pour his coffee, practically shoving her boobs in his face. He smirked at her. He knew exactly what he was doing. She sm
iled back and leaned over. His eyes were glued to her breasts as if they were going to bust out of her top. That was not going to happen. His partner who sat across from him let out a whistle and then a chuckle as Sadie began to pour. She stayed focused, not wanting to accidentally drop hot coffee on the guy’s crotch. That would not be good for her tip. She righted herself and ended the show.
“Anything else?”
“No, darlin’, just the check,” he responded with a smile.
She pulled out her receipt pad and pen to finish the bill. Sadie could tell while these two enjoyed the show, they wouldn’t be asking her back to the truck for a private show, thankfully. It didn’t happen often, but it happened. She always respectfully declined.
She slapped the bill on the table. With a smile and wave, she grabbed the pot and headed back to the counter.
Most regulars who ate alone sat at the counter. Carl sat at the last seat closest to the bathrooms, his regular spot. Carl was Bernie’s oldest customer. He had to be at least eighty and as long as Sadie had been working there, Carl came in every day. She liked him. He walked slow and ate slower. He acted as though he had nowhere to be, which was probably true. His baseball cap hung low and his clothes had seen better days. He wasn’t much of a talker but when he did, he was sweet and never gave anyone shit. He laughed at all of Sadie’s jokes, no matter how silly, and always left a three-dollar tip.
“Working your magic, doll?” he croaked out in his raspy voice. He took a drag of his Marlboro, blew it out, and winked. Bernie’s became a non-smoking establishment a few years ago. However, everyone ignored the rule when it came to Carl.
As a regular he knew Sadie’s routine; as a man he enjoyed the show. As he had said before, “I’m old, doll, not dead.” Sadie smiled back at him as she leaned on the counter. His eyes went directly to her cleavage. Old, not dead.
She snickered. “A girl has to make a living, Carl. Besides, I’m just trying to make eating here a magical experience!”
He burst out laughing. “Magical. That you do, girl.”
Sadie smiled. “Anything else I can get you? We have that apple Danish you like.”
“Sounds good to me, I’ll take one, and a refill.” He nodded toward his cup.
As she headed back to the kitchen, she saw Marge’s car pull in. Marge was Bernie’s wife. Occasionally, Marge came in, and it was always a surprise visit. Bernie never knew when she’d drop by. They all got the impression she was trying to catch him doing something. When she did show up, she was always rude. Marge was a very unhappy woman who enjoyed making others unhappy as well. Sadie wasn’t a big fan of Bernie’s, but for all his faults, not even he deserved the misery that was Marge.
Sadie looked for Pearl to announce it was best behavior time but she wasn’t on the floor. She glanced out the window to the parking lot and wondered if Pearl had left already? Sadie checked her phone and saw she had some time left on her shift. Where was she?
Sadie glanced around the diner again. Suddenly her back stiffened in realization of exactly where Pearl might be.
She raced through the kitchen nearly knocking into Juan. “Sorry.”
She rushed to the office door and grabbed the handle but stopped when she heard moaning and a knocking sound from inside followed by “Yeah, baby, work that cock. Fuck!” Bernie was an absolute pervert. Though she gave the man credit for even attempting to mess around on Marge. He must have a set of balls on him, or a death wish. If Marge ever found out about him and Pearl, she might just slice his dick off. Served him right, Sadie thought.
She didn’t even know why she got involved.
She sighed. Yes, I do. Pearl. Aside from her horrible taste in men, she was wonderful. It might sound hypocritical but Pearl really was a great person. She had looked out for her since she started. Sadie considered her a friend—a good friend who made poor choices. But who was she to judge anyone else? She didn’t walk in her shoes.
When Sadie heard a high pitched “harder, baby”, she knew she had to save Pearl’s ass, which she was pretty sure she had just heard Bernie spank. Sadie pounded on the door loudly and shouted, “Umm…Marge just pulled in so I suggest you pull out.” She smirked.
When Sadie backed away from the door, she heard “Fuck,” and major scrambling. That was a close call. She walked out to the dining room just as Marge and BJ were walking in.
“Hey Marge! Hey BJ!” Sadie greeted with her signature fake smile.
“Shouldn’t you be working? We don’t pay you to do nothing,” she snidely remarked as she walked past.
It was a rhetorical question so she didn’t bother answering.
She smiled up at BJ, Bernie and Marge’s only child, Bernard Crist, Jr. BJ was a nice kid. He was always sweet and polite to all the girls. He was definitely what one would call socially awkward, like most kids his age. He was tall like Bernie, with light brown, cropped hair, and dark brown eyes. He was very skinny, not yet filled out. In time he’d probably bulk up. Last time he was in he talked about protein shakes and lifting weights. Sadie just listened. He needed someone to just listen.
He smiled and grabbed a soda from the fountain. Walking over to the counter, he took a seat and started playing on his phone.
After Sadie finished getting Carl’s Danish in one hand and the coffeepot in another, she saw Pearl slide out from the kitchen. When they made eye contact, she mouthed, “Thank you.” Sadie sent her a wink and headed to Carl, all the while knowing BJ was staring at her. A lapse in judgment on her part had left her the object of this eighteen-year-old boy’s affection. If she could go back in time and change her actions from last month, she would do it in a heartbeat.
“I’m heading out now.”
Pearl walked over to Sadie and pulled her in for a hug. She whispered in her ear, “Thanks, Sadie, I owe you one. Be safe.”
Sadie watched Pearl leave and head out to her car. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and checked the time. She had twenty minutes left. After grabbing the ten-dollar tip from table six, Mr. Bearded Potbelly, Sadie began wiping down the counter. The place was empty except for Carl and BJ.
Bernie and Marge were still in the office, Willie, the cook, was on a smoke break, and Juan was sweeping the kitchen. BJ was still at the counter, on his second soda. Sadie continued to wipe the counters as she made her way to BJ.
“So, how’s school?”
He looked up from his phone and shrugged his right shoulder. “Okay I guess.”
She turned to rinse out the rag just as he nervously blurted out, “Sadie, will you go to homecoming with me?”
Oh shit! She heard a chuckle from the end of the counter. She ignored Carl. It turned out last month’s poor judgment had just come around to bite Sadie in the ass. No good deed went unpunished.
Last month, BJ stopped in when Sadie was working. Three o’clock in the morning he came into the diner and announced he was finally legal. Was he legal to vote? Yes. Was he legal to drink? Not so much. However, that didn’t stop him from getting shit faced. Fortunately, he was smart enough not to drive. His friend dropped him off.
Willie wanted to call Bernie to come get him but Sadie insisted he could just sleep it off in the office on Bernie’s couch. Marge would freak out and probably ground him for life. Sadie felt sorry for him so she took him to the back and sat him on the couch.
“Hey, Sadie, it being my birthday and all, how about you give me a gift?” he slurred as he lay back on the couch.
She took off his sneakers and shook her head. This kid was going to be in so much pain the next day. “What kind of gift?”
“How about a kiss?”
She looked up from his feet. He was wearing a goofy smile and his eyes were slanted almost shut. He was so drunk at that point he’d probably pass out in minutes. Hopefully, before she had to answer.
He surprised her when he grabbed her arms and pulled her on top of him. He wasn’t rough. He laughed again as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Oh God! Fending off a drun
ken horny eighteen-year-old was not her idea of a good time. She should have called Bernie. Dammit! She struggled to get up, pushing at his chest to right herself. She was just about off him when his next words stopped her.
“Please, Sadie, just one kiss. Be my first,” he said almost sadly.
Was he really eighteen and had never been kissed? Was that even possible these days? His eyes were still slanted but he was no longer laughing. Sadie looked at him, trying to see deception in his eyes but she didn’t see any. His serious face told her he was being honest. Poor kid.
She gave him a gentle smile and leaned in to touch her lips to his, a quick peck for his birthday wasn’t going to hurt her. However, this overeager eighteen-year-old had had other ideas and he opened his mouth jamming his tongue down her throat. She pulled back a bit, surprised by his tongue lashing lip assault but he came forward in full force, licking the inside of her mouth. This was a definite confirmation that she was indeed his first kiss.
Sadie decided if she was going to be his first then she was going to show him how it was done. She grabbed his face and whispered, “Let me show you.”
She kissed his lips again and slowly licked the seam of his mouth. When he opened his mouth, she slid her tongue against his. He mimicked what she was doing. He was a quick learner. They continued the kiss for a few seconds. There was no passion on her end. It almost felt clinical to Sadie, like performing a tutorial on Kissing 101.
She felt his hands start moving toward her ass and that’s when she pulled back and sat up. He was about to pass out. He took one deep breath and muttered what sounded like, “Thanks, Sadie.”
Sadie left him in the office and had only seen him a few times since. Neither of them mentioned his birthday. She was hoping he had been so drunk that he had forgotten. No such luck.
Now, here she was with the love-struck birthday boy and his invitation to Homecoming.
