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The aroma of freshly baked goods wafts through the air increasing my appetite. As if it wasn’t enough that I haven’t had a decent meal all morning I also have this to add onto my plate. I take a quick glance at my watch and sigh again. I’m still about thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Just about enough time to drive to the office and get settled before the day’s activities begin.
As a big time preacher of punctuality and professionalism, I have a duty to uphold. My eyes wander around the surroundings as I wait for my order to arrive. The food truck’s exterior is adorned with a mosaic of colors, showcasing images of exotic ingredients and dishes that promise an adventure for the palate. Awnings extend gracefully overhead, providing shelter from both the sun's rays and the occasional rain shower. The aroma of sizzling spices and simmering sauces wafts through the air, enticing passersby to pause and indulge.
Nearby, a few bistro-style tables and chairs offer a place for those who prefer to enjoy their meals al fresco.
“Sorry, I think you’re gonna have to wait a little. There’s a little issue with the coffee machine.” Betty says, suddenly appearing behind the counter again. She smiles at me apologetically and I’m forced to give her a half smile in return.
“It’s alright. I can wait,” I say, waving dismissively and attempting to act nonchalant. I’ve waited a long time already, a few more minutes won’t hurt, would it?
Betty gives me another reassuring grin before leaning on the counter with her head propped on her elbow. I don’t mind waiting, not when the smell of freshly baked pastries, bacon and eggs fills my nostrils.
“Umm, what of Brandon?” I ask, rolling my eyes in the direction of the kitchen, where I presume he is. I still can’t understand why he’s refused to get a normal shop to be honest. With his reputation alone, no doubt he’d give the rest of the restaurants in the city a run for their money. The fact that he adds recipes from other countries to his menu only adds to his appeal. If he ever decides to go all out, I wouldn’t mind investing some of my money in him.
“He’s in the kitchen. Sweating his ass off as always.” Betty chortles, then she pauses for a second, seemingly deep in thought, before adding in a quieter voice, “I still don’t get why he refuses to hire other chefs.”
I snort. “You tell me. With the level he’s at, he’s way past a food truck. If I could get Doubles as good as his anywhere else in the city, I wouldn't be here now.”
Betty cocks a brow. “I thought you came here because of me?” Her eyebrows waggle suggestively and I smirk at her.
“Yes,” I say, giving her a wink. “But the food plays a bigger part. I could decide to see you anywhere else. Speaking of which—“
“Hey! Do you lovebirds mind having your conversation elsewhere? Some of us have a life to get to and you’re holding the line!” Someone yells over the chatter and noise. I swirl around toward the source of the voice, cursing internally at the ‘lovebirds’ comment. The concept of love still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth as always. Finally, my eyes settle on the owner of the voice, a few feet from where I’m standing.
Damn, she’s hot. Between the summer sun and her tight pink dress revealing far too much skin, she looks like she could be a model in one of those sexy lingerie commercials. Her hair frames her face perfectly and her cheeks are flushed with exertion. Then there’s her eyes, the most striking shade of emerald green I’ve ever seen, surrounded by thick black lashes. Her lips are slightly pursed in an adorable pout as she huffs impatiently.
She’s beautiful and for some reason, oddly familiar. Maybe from a bar or somewhere but she does look like someone I know. Not to worry though, for someone as social as I am, there’s a ton of places we could have possibly met.
“I’m sorry ma’am. We got a little holdup in the kitchen. You’ll get your order shortly.”
“Well you should have said something earlier, instead of keeping us all waiting.” She retorts, this time from a much closer distance.
I turn around to see her right behind me, glaring daggers at me first, then Betty. For someone as pretty as she is, she’s got some attitude.
“Exercise a little patience, will you? Or is the concept foreign to you?” I reply with a teasing smile. It’s always fun to poke fun at a gorgeous woman with an attitude. Even the smallest thing makes her snap back in defense mode and her fiery temper always serves as an amusing distraction.
“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrug innocently. “Nothing really. Except short and angry is a bad combination.”
Not that she’s short. On the contrary she isn’t, but I can’t help myself.
She huffs in response. “If your hair was half as good as your banter, you’d be the complete package, wouldn’t you?”
She steps forward and I take a step backwards reflexively. “Hold up there big guy, no need to get riled up. You just need to exercise patience little one,” I say mockingly.
I hold up my hands in mock surrender, anticipating another witty response—Been a while I had a good sparring partner— but all I get is dead silence and a smile that speaks mischief more than anything else.
“Alright then, I’ll wait.” She finally says in a low tone, her eyes glued to mine as she turns around to sit on a nearby chair. She crosses her arms and rests them upon her knees while looking directly into my eyes. The corner of my mouth tugs upward as I let loose a small chuckle. This woman has me wrapped around her finger.
Few minutes later, Betty is out again and just as she appears, the sexy firecracker appears behind me again.
“Almost ready ma’am!” Betty announces, flashing another reassuring smile.
“See…” I turn around to face the lady who’s still seething behind me and raise my glasses to wipe the sweat away from my forehead. “Patience.” I add.
She cocks a brow at me, her expression thoughtful. “You?” She asks, incredulously confirming my earlier suspicion.
I tilt my head sideways. “Do I know you?”
