by Penny Wylder
My phone vibrates, making me grin immediately.
You and me both. It came close.
Not close enough.
I'm not sure we could have been much closer than that.
I think we could have. My bed has plenty of room for two.
You're a pretty bold guy.
Is that a bad thing?
Not necessarily. I gotta get back to work though.
Where you working again?
Giovanni's, but I really can't talk. I'll see you later, she types back.
I slip my phone back in my pocket, feeling pretty good. She could have struck me down instantly, but she didn't. This gives me some hope that she feels something too. A pull. A tug. The slightest shred of something. It's there.
The bell rings, and I abandon my post. The food truck in the parking lot is open, so I grab the best dish on the menu to go.
“Hey! I thought you weren't eating here today?” Jed calls out to me as I'm jogging away.
“I changed my mind!”
“Where the hell are you going? You only have thirty minutes, you know!”
“Don't worry, I'll be back.” I jog around the corner to the bus stop and hop on the bus before its doors close.
I take the bus to the small restaurant where Anna is working. There's a couple at one of the tables, and a few people just getting seated. The restaurant is fairly new in the city. It hasn't been around as long as some of the others. I have no idea if it'll make it or not in the long term.
Most of the places around here have either been here for decades or they constantly change into something else. That's how the restaurant business goes. You either make it or you don't.
But in a place like Boston, if you don't catch the local crowd, you'll never last. Giovanni's Bistro is still in its infancy. Only time will tell if it survives.
“Hello, table for one?” the hostess asks.
“Um, yes please.”
The young girl glances down at the bagged food in my hand. “I'm sorry. We don't allow outside food in the restaurant.”
“Oh, this? This is just my lunch for work today. I'm here for breakfast.”
She eyes me, then nods for me to follow her. “Just place it on the seat beside you if you don't mind.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Your waiter is Vinny, he'll be with you—”
“Um,” I say, cutting her off. “Is there any chance I can get Anna?”
“I'm sorry, our tables are designated for a specific staff for their shift. I can't reassign her.”
“Sure, I totally understand that. I don't want to be difficult, but is there any chance I can sit in her section instead?”
I'm annoying her. I can see it in her stance and how she rolls her eyes. “Sure, right this way.”
I get up and follow her to a different table across the room. She hands me a menu and I thank her. As she walks away, she looks back at me over her shoulder with a look that could kill. Too bad the customer is always right.
Anna comes out from the kitchen with a giant platter resting on her shoulder. She doesn't notice me at first. She's occupied with another table, nodding and asking if they need anything else.
As she turns around, our eyes connect. I smile and wave. She stands still as a statue. Her shock quickly wears off, and she walks to the table with a light smile.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks.
“Getting breakfast,” I answer. “I heard this place was good.”
She places her hands on her hips and tilts her head. “I don't believe you.”
“You don't?” Arching a brow, I can't hold back my grin.
“No, I don't.”
“Well, you're right. But I brought you breakfast.” I lift up the white paper bag and dangle it in the air.
“You did?” she asks. I nod. “What is it?” she takes the bag from my hands and peeks inside.
“It's the best breakfast sandwich you can buy on the east coast.”
“I doubt that, but it does smell good.”
“It's my favorite.”
“Thank you,” she says. Her eyes dance around mine, almost floating in the sockets.
Another waitress walks by us, her hands full of dirty dishes. The door to the kitchen flings open, smacking her, and causing her to drop the entire tray on the floor. They clank to the ground and she gasps in horror.
“What the hell, Meadow!” a short, balding man yells. “You need to watch where you're going. You're supposed to go in the entry door not the damn exit.”
“But, Mr. Scaramuchi, I was going—”
“Don't,” he snaps, holding up his hand. “Now, stop embarrassing me in front of the guests and pick up this mess.”
She doesn't give him any lip. The girl drops to her knees, carefully picking up broken glass, and placing it on the tray.
“Who's that?” I ask.
“The owner,” Anna says with a drop in her tone.
He stands in the center of the room, looking around. His little, beady, hawk eyes scan his employees as if he's just waiting for one of them to screw up. He stops on Anna and clears his throat.
“I'll take a coffee for now. I just need a few more minutes to decide on what I want.” I say louder than normal so he doesn't think she isn't doing her job.
“Absolutely, let me go grab that for you.” Anna gives me a thank you smile. She tucks the bag against her side, hiding it from her boss. He doesn't seem notice and appears satisfied to see her working. His eyes land on another employee, and he flies into action. The man storms to his side and starts to berate him about how he's doing a terrible job washing the table.
What a dick.
Anna comes back with a mug and a small pot of fresh, steaming coffee. She pours me a full cup, watching her boss from the corner of her eye.
“He's a bit of a hard-ass, huh?”
“He's all right, I guess. So long as you're doing your job.”
“Do you like this?”
“Like what?”
“Waitressing?”
“It's fine.” She stands up straight and holds the pot of coffee. “I mean, it's a job, so that's all that matters.”
“I guess.” Fixing my coffee, I stir in the cream. “I hate my job and I don't plan on staying there any longer than I need to.”
“Yeah, I get that.” She wipes her hand on the small, black apron around her waist. Her boss's eyes flash back to her. “Are you ready to order?” she asks quickly.
“Yeah, I'll have the chicken and waffles.”
“All right, I'll go put that in for you.”
She works her way around the room before heading into the kitchen. I watch her as she smiles at the guests and laughs at their jokes. Anna really does know how to make someone feel comfortable. She might hate this job, but the customers love her. If people do come back here, I bet it's only to see her.
Her boss, on the other hand, is going to be the reason this place fails. He's an asshole. I've already watched him yell at two employees and tell one patron that they're wrong about the way the eggs are cooked, and to either eat them or get out.
“All right, here ya go.” Anna sets the plate down in front of me.
“It smells amazing.”
“It does. I haven't tried it yet, since today is my first day.”
“It looks like you've been doing this for years. You're great with the people.”
“I worked occasionally back home at this small diner my friend's family owned. Well, when I had the time anyway, and the farm was running slower. I did at least one or two days a week during most summers.”
“Well, you're a natural for sure.”
“Anna,” her boss snaps as he comes up behind her. “Excuse me,” he says to me as he wraps his hand around her upper arm and pulls her to the side. “Did you bring those people an omelet without offering them the special?”
“I don't remember. I thought I offered it.”
He grins. A sick and uncomfortable grin. “Well,”
he says, lifting his hand to her elbow and softly caressing her arm. “They're claiming you didn't. I'll give you a pass because it's your first day, but that's it. You only get one.”
“Of course.” She pulls her arm away and tries to take a step back.
He grabs her arm again, pulling her in closer. Too close. I know the look in his eyes. It's the look that says if you'll let me fuck you, I'll let you do whatever you want. He licks his lips and lets his eyes drop to her chest.
My fists clench at my side and I'm ready to launch over the table. He shouldn't be touching her like that. He shouldn't touch any of his employees that way, but especially her in front of me.
Anna clears her throat, yanking her arm free again, this time taking a big step back. “If you'll excuse me, I have customers to attend to.” She gives him a stiff shoulder and comes back to me.
“What the hell was that?” I ask.
“It's nothing, don't worry about it.”
“He shouldn't put his hands on you, Anna.”
“It's fine, Dash,” she says, her voice stern. “I can hold my own, don't worry about him.”
I look over at her boss again, and he's staring at her ass. His eyes catch mine and he darts them away, then heads back into the kitchen. I don't like it. And I definitely don't like him.
But I keep my mouth shut, not pressing the issue any further. It's her first day and I don't want to cause a problem for her.
I finish my breakfast, going well over my break time. I don't really care. My job is merely a place holder for the moment. I'm not going to be there forever, and if they fire me, well, I won't beg for the job back.
Jed won't fire me.
“This was really good,” I say as she hands me the check.
“Good, I'm glad.” She smiles and brushes a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I didn't charge you for the coffee, but I couldn't comp the food.”
“You didn't have to give me any breaks on it. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me.”
“Don't worry about it. It's just a coffee. I doubt he'll notice.”
“I'll leave you a good tip, then.”
“Please, don't.” Anna holds out her hand and shakes her head. “We're roommates. I don't want to take your money.”
“You don't have a choice. Plus, you're a waitress. Tips are how you make any money at all.”
“I know, but I don't feel right taking money from you.”
“It's not up to you.” I pull some money from my wallet and lay it on the table. Standing up, I reach out and softly grip her elbow. I run my thumb over the same area her boss touched and wipe any trace of him away.
I don't want to leave her with his touch on her mind. I want to leave her with mine. She looks up at me, her lashes dark and long as they spread across her lids like butterfly wings. Her cheeks are rosy from running around the dining room and being in the heat of the kitchen. Her skin is a little shiny, and the beige eye shadow spread across her lids is wearing away.
“See you at home,” I say, letting my fingers linger on her arm before turning to leave.
I can feel her watching me as I go out the door. I like that feeling. I like the way her eyes dance. I like the way she tugs her bottom lip into her mouth when she's thinking. I like the way her breathing slows, and it seems like she struggles to breathe when I'm close.
I like all of it. But exploring what I feel is a dangerous path.
If things go too far, I could end up hurting her and my sister along the way.
Because I don't plan on staying here. I want to travel. I want to see the world.
That's my plan, and that's what I need to keep reminding myself.
All of this is only temporary.
5
Anna
“Anna!” my boss screams my name from the kitchen.
I excuse myself from the customer I just finished taking an order from, and head back to see what he wants. He stands in his office door and waves me over as soon as he sees me. I already don't like this. I don't like the way he talks to his employees, and I don't like the way he looks at me.
He's too touchy feely. Too hands on. And when he's angry, he'll spare you none of your feelings. I found this all out on day one. The second I walked in to start my first shift, he went off on a girl and made her cry.
“Yes, Mr. Scaramuchi,” I say.
“Sit,” he commands as he drops into his old, grungy office chair. The wheels squeak like a rusty weathervane spinning slowly on top of an old farmhouse as he rolls closer to his desk.
I sit. Not scooting my chair any closer. His office smells like stale cigars and peanuts. There's a pile of empty shells cascading out of an ashtray on his desk. The chalky, musty scent fills the room, making it almost unbearable to breathe.
“I need you to come in tomorrow for a double. Gloria called out and I have no one else to take her place.”
“I'm already on the schedule for tomorrow.”
“I know, and you'll be staying late. A double shift.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he snaps, slamming the back of his pen down on the desk. The tower of peanut shells teeters, and a couple of loose pieces tumble off the edge. “Do you realize how lucky you are to even have this job?”
“I do, but—”
“Normally,” he says, ignoring me and cutting me off, “I have my staff train for a week before they're on their own. But I gave you a chance because there's something I like about you. I decided to see what you had to offer this restaurant. Don't make me regret it, Anna.”
“I appreciate it, I really do.”
He turns in his chair to face me, holding the pen between both hands and playing with the ends. “Good. You know, if you want to get ahead in life, sometimes it's a good idea to make your boss happy. You know what I mean?” He smiles, his teeth yellow and crooked.
My face itches to cringe, but I hold back. I don't want to piss him off. I need this job. It took me far too long to find a place that would hire me without an in-person interview. I don't have much saved up, and losing this would force me back home.
I watched my mother and father spend their entire lives living in one place. They never left the small confines of our tiny town in Kentucky. I don't want to be that person. I want to experience everything my parents never had the chance to.
He leans over, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes are as small as the head of a pin, sending a chill up my spine as they explore my body. My hair stands on end, and not in a good way.
Not in the same way it does when Dash looks at me. Or when he's close to me. Or when he touches me. With Dash I feel good. My stomach gets warm and my skin tingles. I can feel every muscles tighten and my lips begin to ache because I want to kiss him so bad.
Giovanni Scaramuchi is not a man who gives you goosebumps and makes you nervous because of how he looks at you. Giovanni is a man who makes your skin crawl. A thin strip of hair is combed over the top of his hair. His skin is greasy and marked with scars from years of bad acne as a teenager. His fingers are thick and round as sausages, and he's constantly sucking loose spit out of the weaselly mustache stuck above his upper lip.
“No, I don't know what you mean,” I say. I thought making my boss happy is being here on time, keeping the customers happy, and doing the job he's paying me for.
He licks his lips and brushes the sad strip of hair with his palm. “I'm just letting you know that if you want to move up in this place, there are ways to make that happen.” He reaches out and gently touches my knee.
I stand up quickly and grab the handle on the door. “Well, I need to get back to work. I'm sure my customers are wondering where their food is.”
“Of course. But don't forget, Anna, you can make things happen if you play your cards right.”
“I'll keep that in mind.” I'm out the door and back in the dining room as fast as I can.
Don't be alone with that guy. He's a creep.
Maybe he's just harmless. A lone
ly man who doesn't know what he's doing.
I'm not going to worry about him. He's my boss. My mother never complained about what was thrown at her feet, no matter how deep the shit was, I'm not going to either.
This man was nice enough to give me a chance. No other place would even think about hiring me without an interview in person beforehand. Who knows, maybe all bosses are the same. Just as crude. Just as gross. Just as sleazy.
I can handle him. It's not a big deal.
My mother, for her all strength, always told me never to be afraid. She never seemed to fear anything. She didn't fear what the day would bring. She didn't fear a horse that was out of control. She didn't fear the bank when my parents almost lost everything.
But, one day she opened up to me and told me she did fear one thing. . . The unknown.
She never knew what was outside of our town. She never took that leap because she was scared of not being able to control it. The saddest thing about that is she wanted to. She wanted to go out and travel. She wanted to visit Paris and Rome and see the pyramids in Egypt. She showed me pictures in a book she had gotten when she was younger.
I'm not giving up on this. It doesn't matter how much my boss bothers me, or if things get harder, because I'm doing this.
I don't want to spend my life like my mother, wondering what if. What if I had bought that ticket and gone when I had the chance? What if I had hopped in the car and driven until the gas was gone?
What if I let fear control me and I never let myself feel nervous or scared?
Is that really living? Is staying comfortable and having no stories the legacy I want to leave to my children or my grandchildren?
No.
I won't let fear tame me. I won't let fear keep me from standing on my own two feet.
I never let it control me before, I won't start now.
Giovanni Scaramuchi can do his worst. He can threaten me. He can try and use his leverage to see how far he can push me before I break.
I won't break. I'm not giving up on this dream.
I came too far to let him scare me away.
And there's Dash.
My brain tumbles with thoughts of him. His lips almost touching mine. His hands on my skin. His eyes as they tear me open, and leave me breathless, unable to speak.