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My heart sputters, although I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because she’s terrifying, or maybe it’s because nobody has offered to take me out to eat, well, ever, but I find myself agreeing.
“Sounds great,” I say. In reality, I’ll never let her pay, but it will be a great opportunity to get to know her, to make her hate me a bit less.
Chapter Six
Alexis
I can’t really afford to take James to lunch, but apologizing with words isn’t nearly enough. The guilt of what I said ate at me so much that I had to go cry in the bathroom, so I knew I had to do something, and it took my whole shift to figure out what that might be.
We go to the same restaurant where I ran into Hector and James yesterday, and the hostess smiles at him and says, “Welcome back!” She gives me a pointed look and a smile, and I take a small step away from James. Is it possible we look like a couple? I sure hope not. This is just a way to assuage my guilt. My mom always told me to think about my words before saying them, probably because of situations like these.
When we sit, I let my hair down, opening the menu to avoid looking at James. I swallow my nerves. The cheapest item on the menu is fifteen dollars, and I pale. I guess it’ll be ramen noodles and skimming send-backs at the restaurant for the next week or two. I only hope that James isn’t one of those that will order whatever he wants when someone else is buying.
“Hey, how are you guys doing today?” the perky waitress asks. She seems to recognize James as well. I thought he looked like a fairly generic guy when I met him, but his attractiveness seems to mean that he’s memorable. Or maybe it’s because he came in with Hector, who’s been much more outgoing so far.
“Great," James says, glancing at his own menu. “Can I get a Coke?”
She nods and writes it down. “Water for me,” I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. This is the type of place where soda is three and a half dollars.
“Be right out,” she says. “Go ahead and look at the menus while I’m gone, alright?”
I already know what I’m getting, but James nods and turns to his own menu. “Have you ever been here?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’ve heard it’s good, though.” Others who work at the resort have said so, and it’s always a recommendation I give when guests ask for off-resort ideas.
“I liked it yesterday,” he says. Based on his appearance, he must not be from around here. It makes sense. He doesn’t have the tanned face or the relaxed demeanor of someone who grew up on the island. Instead, he seems formal and uptight. Maybe he’s from further up the East Coast. Based on his watch, he was at least upper-middle-class before getting the job at Chéri, and I wonder how he became a dishwasher. Surely his parents’ deaths had something to do with it.
Instead of asking about that, I ask, “What brought you to the Keys?”
He glances up at me from the menu, and he considers my words for a moment. “I moved to Miami last year after…what happened.” Clearly, talking about it is still raw. It makes sense. I’m not sure what I’d do if anything were to happen to my mom. “The city was getting to me, so I came down here. Got a job at Chéri.”
Something tells me that isn’t the whole story, but I’m not going to pry. For one, it’s none of my business. For another, it’s clearly unpleasant for him to talk about. I’ve already hurt him once today, and I’m not about to go for another time.
“I get it,” I say. “I moved down here after getting my marine biology degree, but then the rescue that hired me lost a major sponsor and had to lay me off. I’ve been applying for everything I can find, but it’s pretty rough when I don’t have any experience to go along with my degree. It’s only a Bachelor’s.”
He frowns, then opens his mouth, holding a finger up like he’s got advice for me. I feel bad about earlier, but I will absolutely punch him if he tries to mansplain to me how to get a job in my extremely competitive field.
“Here are your drinks!” the server, Beth, says. She looks at James. “I already wrote down your allergy and let the chef know.”
I raise my hand as if I’m in class, and she grins at me. “I’m also allergic to shellfish,” I say.
She blinks, then gives a light laugh. “You don’t say! You two are like peas in a pod!” I flush, and she whips out her notepad. “What can I get started for you?”
I order the chicken tenders, embarrassment flooding through me that I can’t afford anything better. When it’s James’ turn, he orders a burger with a fried onion and Swiss cheese with some sort of secret sauce. I glance at it on the menu. Twenty dollars. I flinch, and he seems to notice, tilting his head in questioning. I take his menu as a distraction, passing both of them to Beth. My lungs suddenly can’t get enough air, and my face flushes.
“I’m gonna go use the ladies’ room,” I say, getting up suddenly to avoid whatever James wants to say to me.
Also, I might be having a panic attack.
James looks up at me worriedly. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice laden with concern. Why is this near-stranger concerned about me?
I don’t think about it. I just say, “Yeah,” and rush away.
I sit in one of the stalls and try to catch my breath, wrapping my arms around myself as I gasp. Someone else comes in after nearly ten minutes, and I keep my panic as quiet as possible, breathing in and out through my nose. At this moment, I’m thankful for the restaurant’s speakers playing a Jimmy Buffet song that’s just loud enough to muffle the attack.
“He’s like, a gazillionaire,” a young woman says excitedly, turning the sink on to wash her hands.
Another voice says, “Well, he was super nice. Can you believe he paid for everyone’s food in the restaurant?”
