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I shouldn’t be so on edge, yet here I am, anxious and annoyed.
I have been since I saw Macklin in the parking lot. His jaw was so tight, and his head pressed against the headrest. And his eyes? They were hooded and dark, like in my dreams.
What was he doing?
Okay. Probably a dumb question.
I’ve replayed the moment a thousand times since I left the gym, but the unknown is killing me.
He wouldn’t have…touched himself.
Would he?
He seemed so unfazed by the whole legging debacle. Other than the physical evidence between his legs, he was as cool as a cucumber. But he only pointed out the…physical evidence to make me feel better about my own mortification. And when he said he was going to let things calm down in his car, I didn’t think he meant likethat.
I should find it gross and repulsive. Yet I don’t.
Which is messed up on so many levels.
Anna’s lucky I texted and offered to come in tonight because two waitresses didn’t show up for their shifts, and I’ve yet to receive a tip for more than ten percent of my tables’ bills. Added to the fact I’m a little sexually frustrated––and majorly embarrassed––thanks to my encounter with Macklin at the gym, along with having to ride the bus to work, I’m ready to go home and call it a day.
Reeling in my annoyance, I keep my voice low and argue, “I’m just reminding you to keep your phone out of sight if you want to keep this job. The girl before you was literally fired because she was obsessed with TikTok, and––”
“Okay, I got it,” Hazel interrupts, curling in on herself.
She started working here a few weeks ago and is still figuring out the do’s and don'ts in the industry. She’s nice. A little snooty sometimes, but I have a feeling it stems from the fact this is her first job, and she wants to be taken seriously, even if it’s a bit off-putting sometimes.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
She’s definitely friendly, though. She gets along with the customers, is always willing to help, and even offered her arm to an old couple earlier tonight when she led them to their table. Needless to say, all of these are great qualities to have in the restaurant business. Now, if I could only convince her to let down her walls a bit and be more teachable, we’d be golden.
It’s not like I plan to work at Butter and Grace for the rest of my life or anything, but being on good terms with my coworkers is a solid goal of mine, and I like my job here. Usually, anyway. It’s predictable. And when a girl like me could convulse at any second, I crave predictability. I like the comfort it brings. The monotony.
And I like Hazel. I really do.
She’s nice, and she hasn’t heard the rumors about the incident a few weeks ago, which means she doesn’t look at me differently. If anything, she’s almost becoming a friend.
With a reassuring smile, I add, “You’re killing it. Keep your phone out of sight, and keep up the good work.” I slip past her, grabbing the drinks for table nine. Once I’ve taken their orders, I head back to the front of the restaurant and find Anna next to the hostess stand.
Crap.
With her hands on her hips, she’s talking to Hazel. I don’t hear what’s said, but I don’t need to.
I warned you, Hazel.
“Yes, I understand,” Hazel returns, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Satisfied, Anna walks away, and Hazel’s confidence crumbles like a stale cookie. Shoving my notepad into the front pocket of my black apron, I approach her and ask, “Everything okay?”
“Fine. It’s just annoying, ya know?”
I glance over my shoulder at Anna, but she’s already preoccupied with a customer. Anna’s mom put her blood, sweat, and tears into Butter and Grace. Because of how hard her mom worked to build the restaurant's reputation, she’s always been a stickler for rules, presentation, and a strict mindset. And when one of her employees doesn’t feel the same way? Well, she makes your life a living hell.
“What’s annoying?” I ask, pretending to be oblivious.
“Like, no one’s here.” Hazel waves her arm at the empty waiting area in front of the hostess table. She’s right. There’s not a soul in sight. Which makes sense considering the time. We should be closing any minute.
“I told you she’s a stickler when it comes to phones.”
