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“The man at table fourteen wants to know if the steak burger is made with wagyu beef.”
I knew the answer, but figured he’d be happier with the answer if it came straight from the cook. Paddy’s isn’t the type of place that would carry meat that expensive.
He rolls his eyes, head shaking. “Is he about forty, a paunch of a belly, wearing a fucking Cubs hat?”
I’ve learned the Cubs are enemy number one around here, and many Cardinals fans are willing to shed blood to prove it.
“Yes,” I say slowly. “Does he come in here often?”
Tom slaps his hand towel on the side counter before tugging at the strings of his apron. “Only when he wants to get his ass beat.”
I step out of the way as Tom shuffles past me to the front of the house. “Tom, your kid is here,” Samuel says as he walks past. “Table fourteen.”
A wide smile spreads my face as I watch Tom get choked up, his arms wrapping the guy in a hug the moment he’s within arm’s reach.
“They don’t get to see each other much,” Samuel explains, reminding me I need to dash the tears from my eyes. “I’ll take over in the kitchen while they get a visit in. Macy just sat a new table at ten.”
My eyes drift down the wall, reluctant to stop watching the happy reunion. I can’t recall a single moment in my life when my mom or Charles showed that much emotion at seeing me. It makes me miss something I’ve never had, and sometimes I think that’s worse than losing something you were used to.
The happy yet sad smile fades when my eyes land on table ten. Flynn Coleman sits there, hands clasped on top of the table in front him, his eyes drilling into me. I blame the heat of the kitchen at my back for the warmth crawling up my neck, and then I do the only thing I can think of—I turn around and ignore him.
I walk past Flynn’s table over a dozen times over the next hour without looking directly at him. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time even though he never makes a move to get my attention. My cheeks heat when I fumble a tray and nearly knock a bowl of soup in a lady’s lap. I’m clumsy today, something that hasn’t happened since the first week I started working. I’m self-conscious of my clothes, the uniform top not flattering on my frame one bit, but I keep going, keep walking past him, wondering when his fingers are going to sweep out and trace my hip as I pass.
It never happens.
He seems quite content to watch me flutter around the pub.
While waiting at the window for another table’s food, I watch Macy approach him. She has a confused look on her face as she speaks with him, and it makes me wonder if she’s going to get on to me for ignoring him. What started out as a little game may end up with my termination. He doesn’t frown when he speaks with her, but his eyes don’t light up the same way they do when he speaks to me. It makes my heart flutter before I can remind the stupid muscle that we’re still mad at him for what he did.
“That guy is weird. Possibly the hottest guy I’ve ever met, but still weird.”
“Oh yeah?” I don’t look back in his direction. With her no longer keeping him busy, I know his eyes are right back on me. What started out as stressful has morphed into warmth at the attention.
“I told him he had to order something or leave, and all he did was chuckle before telling me to tell Sam he said hi.”
“A name dropper?” I ask as I reach through the window for the burger and fries plate. “That’s kind of tacky.”
“Tacky is him not taking one look at my tits. Didn’t realize men like him even existed.”
I chuckle, knowing full well Flynn likes tits. Or maybe he just likes mine. He may have ignored them that first day, but there were times after that I caught him glancing when he didn’t think I was looking. Hell, he couldn’t keep his hands and mouth off of them when we made lo—
I clear my throat, scooping up the plate and walking away.
I work through my entire shift without saying a word to him. I didn’t even look in his direction when I dropped off a glass of ice water at his table. He didn’t ask for it, but I knew the man had to be thirsty. I hope he knows it’s the only apology I’m going to give for kicking him in the balls two nights ago.
Macy ends up being the one to shuffle him out the front door when it’s time to close up and count out. Surprisingly, he didn’t give her a hard time, but it made me a little sad watching his back disappear out the door as I watched through the tiny window in the kitchen.
