“Oh, the usual and—”
“Daisy Doll.” Oliver interrupted, making me whirl around like a top. I tilted my head to one side, trying to understand why he had abandoned his sacred kitchen kingdom. “Can you go clean those tables? I'll take care of this gentleman.”
I opened my mouth for a moment to remind him that I had cleaned everything as soon as we opened, but the nod he gave me told me to get out of there. I quickly grabbed a cloth and cleaning spray and dashed out from behind the counter.
Shortly after Mr. Sweet Pancakes opened, we had some customers from Oliver's biker days. Three burly men dressed in leather, chains, and metal band T-shirts, which was the same as saying, dressed just like Oliver. When I tried to take their orders, my dear, precious, sweet boss almost beat me out from behind the counter. I was furious for the first few minutes, wondering what was so wrong with me that I couldn't serve the men. Until one of them jumped over the counter and they all started to fight.
From then on, lesson learned. If Oliver left the kitchen to deal with a customer, he probably had valid reasons.
Even so, I stayed close by, eavesdropping, and noticed how Mr. Arnold had pushed his glasses down to the tip of his nose and was looking sideways at the men, ignoring his faithful newspaper.
“I know everything about tattoos...” I heard Oliver comment, while rubbing the tabletop that was more than clean. If I rubbed it any harder, the varnish protecting the dark wood would come off.
“So, I take it you understand that silence is a fundamental quality.”
“Obviously,” Oliver replied. “What do you want to know?”
“If you have any important clients.”
I frowned, my hands slowing down. So, the mysterious man was looking for someone, huh?
“Local or state?” I paused, moving to the next table, squinting as I tried to make sense of the conversation.
“State.”
“Olivia Goodwin, District Attorney.”
My eyes widened and I couldn't help myself. I looked over my shoulder, wondering why the hell that idiot was talking about my best friend to the stranger. Noticing the stranger's head tilt slightly in my direction, I turned immediately to the table and rubbed the top vigorously.
If he gets Liv into some trouble, I'll cut his balls off.
“Anyone more… interesting?” insisted the stranger.
“Senator Madeleine Jones. She comes every day, without exception.”
That name made my throat tighten. I shook my head and moved away to other tables, my hands shaking. The men continued to talk, but my mind was spinning again, trying to take me away from there.
To the past, to twelve years ago, to Lester.
I shook my head and placed the backs of my hands on my forehead.
“Daisy Doll!” Oliver's voice startled me once more. I looked in his direction, surprised. He was still behind the counter, opposite the stranger. “Set up the corner table for our customer, please.”
“Right away!” I replied, back in my friendly waitress mode, with a wide smile.
I cleaned the corner table, rolling my eyes. At that rate, I was going to wear the varnish off the diner’s furniture. I quicklywiped the booth seats with the cloth and smiled at the stranger, who was already heading towards me.
I motioned for him to take a seat, forcing my cheeks to do their best to hold up my ‘I'm stupid, don't kill me’ smile. He lowered his huge body into the seat with surprising agility, and I nearly choked when I saw a pair of light green eyes peeking out from behind his glasses.
“I gather that, as your boss, you understand that silence is an indispensable quality.”
My smile died. I stood petrified in front of the man, terrified by that animalistic gaze that didn't leave me, not even to blink.
So beautiful... They are the eyes of a wolf.
“She understands it.” Oliver's hand on my back startled me, making me flinch. “I assure you.”
The stranger just nodded.
