AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you sure? There’s other items that I personally think taste better,” she says, leaning over my shoulder and pointing at the items on the menu. “The goat cheese and fig flatbread, and the avocado hummus spinach wrap are my favorite.”
“Just the Reuben.”
“Suit yourself,” she replies. “Fries, coleslaw, or salad?”
“Fries.”
She holds back a laugh, and I have a feeling she wanted me to choose something else. There's a moment of silence, and I'm not sure whether to laugh or roll my eyes. After she's written down the order and repeated it back, I can see she's even trying to hold back laughter.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got a bad habit of making suggestions.”
“No worries. I’ll have to come back another day for the avocado hummus spinach wrap.”
And feed it to my dog.
She smiles at me before she walks away.
I continue to drink my coffee, and every so often I see her helping other tables, fetching more coffee, refilling water, and delivering trays of food. She smiles and treats each guest the same way, and I overhear her suggest items to customers. It's hard not to watch her, but I try to focus on Shark, so I don't seem like I'm staring.
The food doesn't take too long, and when she carries it over she places it in front of me, and I find myself staring at her hands and wrists. She's dainty but womanly, and I find myself imagining her naked.
“Enjoy.” She licks her lips before smiling and walking away.
Something flickers in her eyes. Is she interested? Or just confused by the way I look? I’m dirty from working, and my hair is a mess. I’m so out of touch with these things because I haven't dated anyone since moving to Whitefish. I’m rusty.
I dig into my Reuben sandwich and devour it. I managed to give Shark a few pieces of corned beef, but I don't think he even chewed it; rather, inhaled it in one bite.
Once I clear my plate, I move it out of my way.
As if it were a cue, she walks up seeing that it’s empty. “How was everything?”
“Great, thanks.” It's an understatement though because the sandwich was fucking fantastic. Not often do I splurge on food like that.
“Would you like some dessert?”
I look her up and down and wonder if she’s on the menu, but keep my thoughts to myself. “No, thank you.”
“I’ll get your check then.” She picks up the plate and walks away, and I realize I haven’t gotten her name.
A minute later she comes back and refills my coffee and places a slice of blueberry pie in front of me.
“Oh, I didn’t order that,” I say, thinking she made a mistake or misheard me.
“I know.” She places my check down on the table and walks away. At the bottom, she circled the price and drew a smiley face at the top. When I read her name printed in the top corner I smile. Brianna.
It’s a beautiful name and fitting for her. Elegant but simple.
I place my credit card on the edge of the table and wait for her to return.
“Are you Brianna?” I ask, handing her my credit card.
“Yep. I am,” she says, putting out her hand to shake mine. I take it in mine, and notice how soft she feels. It's small and cool to the touch. “Brianna Carson.”
“I'm Tate,” I reply. I almost say my last name, but quickly stop myself. Though it's stupid to think that some waitress in Whitefish, Montana would recognize the Williams name, yet, I still hold back.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tate. Are you just passing through?”
“No, I live here. Just a few miles up the mountain.”
