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One look at my stocking makes me scoff – torn on a splinter leading into the dining area. I wanted to look my best in case he paid a visit. Oh well, he’ll have to settle for short skirt uniform with a side of trashy tonight. Maybe he’ll like that a little bit of my leg is showing.
Checking on my tables for the third time in thirty minutes is all I can really do to pass the time. One of them is a particularly entertaining set of men blowing off steam after work. They look like they just took a limo from Wall Street. Slicked-back hair, fitted suits, tie-clips.
“Hey, hun, been waiting for you my whole life.” The man at the end with a full head of ‘American Psycho’ hair waves pleasantly at me. “Can I tell you a secret?” He flicks his fingers for me to come closer, and I stare comically at his friends to check if it’s safe.
“I won’t bite, I promise.”
I roll my eyes and lean in, giving him my ear.
“I’m a little shy, but would you consider a date with me after your shift?”
My first thought is – he’s hot. A little cringy, but definitely someone deserving of a date. My second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts are: Castor. What if he shows up later and I’m seen leaving with this guy?
I can’t linger too long, because he’ll know I’m lying, so I beckon his ear next.
“I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends, but I have a boyfriend. So let’s leave it at a maybe so you can save face. Yes?”
He stalls – I can sense the defeat in his expression, then nods at me.
“Is there anything I can get you boys?” I stand up straight and resume my bubbly server persona.
“Yes! What did you tell Dimitri?” All of the guys lean in closer, waiting for me to talk.
“You’ll have to ask him when I’m gone. Last chance. Drinks?” I raise my eyebrows.
I collect their orders and put it in with the bartender – who asks if they’re giving me trouble. They’re harmless, and that’s the truth, so I go back to the break room for a few minutes and check my phone like a junkie. Oh my God, a text from him:
“The one on the left likes you.”
I forget how to breathe. He’s watching me. Castor DeMatteo is freakin’ watching me do my job. Tingles run up and down my legs. He actually came – I can’t believe it. I dig into my bag, happy to give back the sleeve of gold that I in no way earned.
One look in the mirror tells me I’m presentable, so I shove the sleeve into my little apron pocket and rush out to deliver the drink orders, eyeing all corners of the restaurant on the way.
He’s not in here, I tell myself. Where are you watching me from, mister?
I put my hands on my hips in the middle of the restaurant, then freeze like a deer in headlights, because, well, a car is flashing headlights through the window across the parking lot.
It’s a dreary night outside. Raining with puddles everywhere. Does he expect me to rush out there in the middle of my shift?
I don’t know, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.
“Need five, maybe ten.” I hold hands with Natty, the other server on shift.
Here’s to hoping no one recognizes that black-on-black Range Rover, because if they do, Stacey and the whole world will know something’s up.
Worse. Way worse. What if Marco is watching?
No, triple worse – what if Marco’s with him?
Shut up, just go, drop off your coins, and get back to work.
I grab one of the menus and make a little tent over my head when no one’s looking. “Shit.” I take a step back when one of the cars passing by nearly drenches me, then haul ass to get to his car. Wait, maybe it’s not his car.
There’s no one in the driver or passenger seats, so I tentatively slow down, noting that my flats are getting soaked. I hop back and gasp when the back door flings open, and a gold-ringed hand beckons me closer.
“What the hell, Castor? You scared the shit out of me.” I scoot into the roomy SUV and shake the menu free of rain.
Castor reaches over to shut the door for me, and I get a whiff of that familiar luxury cologne that makes me want to swoon into his arms. He leans back and stares, not uttering a word, just letting the air linger between us.
