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One
Jonesy
Iclock her the instant she walks through the door.
Headed to the four-top in my section.Tall boots, sleek ponytail, tight ass.
Once she and her friend are seated, she sweeps her coolly assessing gaze around the dining room in a slow pass, skimming over the tables packed with execs cramming in a fifty-minute lunch and the riot of offbeat murals decorating the walls.
She’s picked a seat directly under one of the upcycled light fixtures, and it acts like a spotlight for her reddish-brown ponytail, bright-green sweater, and lush pink lips.Forget the murals.She’s the only artwork this restaurant needs.
“Is that for us?”
The annoyed voice of the banker-lawyer-accountant from table six makes me realize I’ve been staring at the woman who’s glowing like an angel in my section instead of dropping off the extra butter the trio of suits had requested.I swing into action, handing the dish off to one of the titans of industry with an apology and anaw-shuckssmile—dudes like that always love a waiter scrambling to beg their pardon—before moving to her table.
“I’m stillfurious,” her cardigan-wearing friend announces as I approach.
My ponytail angel unwinds a scarf from around her neck, her mouth as tight as the folds she’s making in the red material.“Don’t be.It’s fine.”She tucks the folded scarf into her purse, her ponytail sliding over her shoulder as she does.
“It’s not fine!It’s inexcusable,” Cardigan says.“I vote murder.We can dissolve him in quicklime.They’ll never find the body.”
Ponytail just shakes her head, and I take the opportunity to clear my throat.
“Hi, ladies.Welcome to Verdant.I’m Jonesy, and I’ll be the third party to your criminal conspiracy today.”
Ponytail’s flat expression doesn’t change, but her cardigan-wearing friend bleats out a laugh.
“Trust me.We’d be doing the world a favor.”Cardigan’s interested eyes take in my face and travel down to my arms, and I oblige her by flexing just a little under my white button-down.Hey, I work hard for the tips those arms bring me.
“Can I start you with some drinks?”I lean a little closer to ask.“Something to help you plot?”
Cardigan glances at me through her lashes as she points to the menu in front of her.
“A Gingerbread White Russian, please.”She’s in leggings and running shoes, and she’s clearly not worried about Kahlúa over lunch on a Wednesday in the middle of November.
“Excellent choice,” I tell her, then turn to Ponytail, who’s finally noticed the mural on the wall to her left, the one the waitstaff privately refer to asThe Lion Fucks Tonight.I wouldn’t have chosen to decorate a brunch/lunch restaurant with a pair of lions who look like they’re doing something a little more intimate than fighting, but it’s a great way to tell which customers are going to be cool and which are going to be uptight pains in my ass.
Let’s find out which one Ponytail is.
“And for you?”I ask her.“Naughty or nice?”
That pulls her attention away from the questionable art, and she blinks as if she’s truly noticing me for the first time.“Sorry, what?”
“Your drink order.”I clasp my hands behind my back and curve my lips into my most winning smile, the one that reliably turns ones into tens.“Are you feeling naughty or nice?”
She flushes and drops her gaze to the menu, where the seasonal drinks are divided into two lists, alcoholic Naughty and non-alcoholic Nice.
“Oh, um, a c-cranberry bourbon sour?”
Well, well.I do believe I just made this uptight lady stammer.I like that feeling so much that I wink at her as I say, “Naughty it is.”As I hoped, she pinks up again and tucks a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear.
I’m burning with impatience as I wait at the bar for their drinks.Sure, I’m curious about whose murder the two of them are planning, but I’m more interested in what else might make Ponytail blush.My rule is to never hit on people while I’m on the clock here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy teasing my tightly wound guest just a little.
On my return to the table, I learn a lot more.
“—the fucking nerve!”Cardigan’s practically hollering as I set the White Russian in front of her.“I cannot believe the audacity of that man.”
Ponytail lifts her shoulders and lets them drop.“For all the good it did him.”Her fingers brush mine as she accepts the bourbon, her skin warm next to the cool glass.
