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"I have to go," I told him, the weight in the words letting him know I meant leave, this town, this life, not just go to check on my other tables.
His head moved to the side, ear almost touching his shoulder. "Maybe you..."
"Am I too late?" Charlie's voice broke in from behind me, making both me and Connor stiffen suddenly.
It was late.
I had figured he had decided just to stand me up, to avoid having to sit across a table from me.
"Late for what?" Connor asked, tone decidedly less friendly.
"Figured Helen and I could enjoy some food while she's on break," Charlie said easily, moving in beside me, making me catch his reflection in the window to my side.
Along with my own.
Making me have to hold back a groan at my uniform much like I had the night before as well.
Though, objectively, this one wasn't quite so hideous, it certainly didn't do much for me either.
My white t-shirt had a double-notch collar, starched mercilessly so that it crunched when I pressed it down flat, thanks to the rules of the owner, and Helga's steadfast determination to abide by them when she ironed it for me. It tucked into a hideous mustard yellow yolk-waist skirt that flirted with my kneecaps, but was mostly covered by a red waist apron where my check presenter was situated along with half a dozen pens, a pack of gum, and lip balm.
My hair was pulled harshly up as it had been the night before as well, but at least my makeup was still intact. Small miracles.
"I see," Connor said, sliding out of his booth as he reached in his back pocket for his wallet, throwing ten on the table when his bill maybe came to five. Generous even as his disappointment and jealousy were flooding the air around him.
"You don't have to go," I rushed to say even as he passed me by.
"I'll see you around, Helen," he said before shooting Charlie a hard look. "Mallick."
"Did I interrupt something?" Charlie asked as Connor threw open the door, the cheery chime in perfect contrast to his mood.
"Connor is a... good friend," I decided, even though that was maybe a stretch.
"Seems to me he wants more than that," Charlie observed.
To which I said nothing. Because, quite frankly, that was none of his business even if it were true.
"I have to check on my tables, then ask Vicky to keep an eye for me," I told him, moving off to do so before he could say anything else.
I got back five minutes later, finding him situated in a booth, flicking through the eight-page menu.
"How does someone pick something?" he asked as I slid across from him.
"You can't go wrong with the classics," I declared, pointing to the sandwiches. "The BLT is really good."
He gave me his order, and I jumped up to put it in since Vicky already had her hands full since we didn't normally have official breaks, always jumping up to help if we needed to, but I had agreed to take her Sunday morning shift, so she could go see her grandmother for her birthday, so we were both doing something we didn't want to do. Sunday mornings after church let out were the worst. You were running from the beginning of your shift right up until the end, sweaty, miserable, getting scolded and stiffed on tips because you couldn't give everyone the individualized attention they wanted during a rush.
Vicky shot me an eyebrow wiggle when I turned away from the window after having stuck up the order on the carousel.
I shook my head at her, but felt a slight flush warming my cheeks as I made my way back to the booth, finding Charlie's eyes on me, making me wonder if maybe he had just been in a sour mood the night before, that he hadn't just been agreeing to see me again out of obligation.
"Do you like working here?" he asked. It was the smallest of small talk, but he genuinely seemed interested in my answer.
"Um, I don't know. I think I like the bar a bit more. Different crowd. Usually in a better mood."
"And usually so wasted that they leave a giant tip?"
"Yeah, that too," I agreed, smiling, and maybe a bit annoyed at myself for being so easily charmed.
"You seem in a better mood tonight," I said a bit pointedly as I stirred some of the fizzies out of my soda, avoiding eye-contact during the long silence following my declaration.
"Helen, baby," he said, his voice doing that sexy soothing thing I was starting to think I had imagined, making a surge of liquid need course through me. My head lifted to find him watching me, waiting for my attention. "Last night took a turn that I didn't plan on. Ruined what should have been a nice date."
