Unexpected Lover: College Romance Book 1

by Scarlett Archer

  She treats me like I’m her own child sometimes. If she’s had to work late into the night, she insists that I stay at hers and sets me up a bed on her sofa. She’s scared of me going home in the dark.

  “Never know what the leeches of this city would do to a pretty young thing such as yourself, Bell. You need to stay safe.”

  I appreciate it. I appreciate that she cares and that her heart is made of pure gold. I love talking to her because she’s not judgemental, and she always has the greatest advice.

  “One day, Jules, we’ll own our own paradise island. You can spend your days lounging on the beach and I’ll be a certified doctor, so we’ll never have to leave the island for healthcare or anything.”

  “Oh yeah,” Jules joins in, “we can have topless men fanning us with palm leaves and oiling us up.”

  We both begin to giggle relentlessly.

  “Girls, this isn’t a mothers meeting. We need the salt and pepper shakers filled and can someone restock the straws please?” Our boss calls from the back.

  Jones is a great guy. He’s nearing on one hundred, but that doesn’t stop him from working running around the diner like he’s twenty something. He’s all life, that man, and he’s been good to us all. If the diner has had a particularly good year, he gives us bonuses on our birthdays and Christmas. He treats us to lavish meals whenever he’s feeling particularly generous and he is very lenient if we’re late, because he knows it’s not done purposely.

  He also only ever hires women. He says that women have the hardest time finding a job where they’re respected, and he knows that some women have to turn to degrading jobs just to live.

  His interview process was simply a half an hour period in which you told him your life story and he asked you questions. He takes in women who he thinks will work hard, take their job seriously and who really need it. I’ve seen him turn away girls who come in just to have something on their resume. He says people like that don’t really want to work, and it shows in their attitude.

  He’s also a great judge of character. He knows when someone is no-good, which means we sometimes get called into his office if we bring in men that he doesn’t trust. It sounds creepy and intrusive, but he’s never been wrong. Jules once had this boyfriend, Fred, and Jones told her that he was a thief and that when she left Sophia with him, he left her in her crib while he played video games.

  He told Jules and two days later, she dumped him after catching him taking money from her purse. Sophia couldn’t talk yet, so there’s no knowing if he truly neglected her, but that doesn’t matter. If Jones says that it’s true, then it is.

  This entire diner is like a family. The cook, Francesca, is a few years older than us and she is always sweet and caring. She is a single woman trying to get through her GED and sometimes, when she’s struggling, Jules and I invite her over and we help her study. She’s never failed a test, and although she’s convinced that it’s because we help her, it’s all her doing.

  She doesn’t think she is very smart, but she is. She knows the answers, she just doesn’t have confidence in herself. She’s always second guessing herself and because of this, she doesn’t trust her original answers, which are almost always correct.

  There’s another waitress, Jessica, and she’s only just legal to work. She’s a runaway and she’s just trying to live on her own away from her drug addict mother and abusive step-father. When she fell on the diner’s doorstep four months ago, battered and bruised, Jones took her in.

  She was a very special case scenario. He took her home, gave her food to eat and a bed to sleep in. After a few days, she admitted that she’d run away after her step dad had forced her to do a line of cocaine and she knew it wouldn’t end there. She stole some money and got a bus to the city, where she lived on the streets for a few nights before someone offered her money for sex.

  Desperate, alone and cold, she had agreed. This bastard had locked her in a room for three days, forcing her into inexplicable things while simultaneously starving her and treating her like a rabid dog.

  Jones and his wife let her move in and Jones had closed the diner for a day and we all took her shopping to buy her clothes. She sobbed the entire time. It took us ages to calm her down.

  Now, she works while retaking senior year at a local high school. She told us that she wasn’t ready to tell anyone else about what happened, and we promised to be there for her if she ever needs to talk.

  Since then, she’s blossomed. She went from a twitchy little girl to a confident woman. She’s a cheerleader at her school and is getting excellent grades. Jones confided in us a few weeks ago that he was worried she wouldn’t settle, but is immensely pleased with her progress.

  His wife, Alicia, is a board-certified psychologist and she gave Jessica the safe space to talk about what happened. As far as I know, Jessica only told us half of the story, but she has no obligations to confide her whole life in us. She knows we’re here if she wants to talk, and that we’ll love her no matter what.

  Jones and Alicia had tried for a child in the early stages of their marriage, but they couldn’t conceive. Jessica was a godsend. They treat her as their own, and I know that Jones is saving to send her to college here.

  She deserves it. No child should have to suffer what Jessica has suffered through. I’m just glad she found her way here. Some of the other diners in the area are not so friendly.

  “Isobel!” Jules shakes my shoulder. “What is going on in there today?”

  I blink, and smile stupidly.

  “Sorry, I’m all over the place today.”

  Jules laughs and shakes her head.

  “Thinking about the hunks with the palm leaves?”

  I laugh and shake my head.

  “Have I ever told you that I love you, Jules?”

  “Yes, and you don’t need to. I know you do.”

  “Open in three!” Jones shouts from the back, forever a task master.

  “Yes sir!” I call to him, giving him mock salute.

  Jules slaps my arm gently and we quickly rush to set the tables. Jules turns the sign on the door and we assume our places, ready for the first customers.

  “Morning, girls.” Mr. Blockow says as he saunters in, sitting in his usual spot.

  “What can I get you today, sir?” I ask, mockingly.

  Mr. Blockow throws his head back and barks out a laugh.

  “Oh, Isobel, you do make me laugh.”

  “I certainly try.” I say as I pour him a large cup of coffee and cut him a generous slice of apple pie.

  Mr. Blockow is a local CEO of a well-to-do business, but he comes in every weekday morning for coffee and pie. He’s a lovely man, always polite and never complains if service is a little slow. He’s been coming here for almost five years now, and even though I’ve only been here for two, he’s treated me like a friend since day one.

  He’s one of five very regular customers who are part of our little diner family. Mrs. Paul is a weekender, and she’s in her mid-thirties. She likes to joke that she likes to get away from her husband, but in reality, she just doesn’t get out of the house very often. She runs a business from home with her husband and the weekend is there no man’s land. Neither of them work and they tend to spend the mornings by themselves and the afternoons taking mini adventures and going for dinner together.

  I’ve never met Mr. Paul, but I’ve never known anybody to be more in love than they are. Her eyes light up when she talks about him and she carries a picture of him in a locket with her everywhere she goes.

  Next is Toby. He’s a high school student who comes in every Friday after school. He has a milkshake and fries and likes to study and talk. If the diner is quiet, we sit with him and quiz him on his work.

  He was really shy to start with, but over the past year, he’s become much more open with us. It turns out he’s the star quarter back on his football team, but he struggles under the social pressure to be this womaniser who rules the school.

  It turns ou
t he has no interest in disrespecting women. He told us that his mother is single and has always brought him up. He says that she’s strong and independent and he has so much respect for her, and that he can’t bear the way the other guys treat their girlfriends. He is the sweetest jock I’ve ever met.

  Another regular is Sharon. She’s an elementary school teacher who comes in every day after work with a pile of work to mark. For someone who is around children all day, she’s surprisingly calm. I couldn’t do that. It’s not that I hate children, but I don’t like them enough to be happy after spending so long with them, day in, day out.

  She’s my definition of a trooper.

  Finally, we have John, a fifty something man with learning disabilities. I’m not sure exactly what they are, but he’s got the mentality of a ten-year-old. He’s totally sweet, but for the first week or so of him visiting, his sister would have to come find him and take him home. The fifth time it happened, we intervened.

  Firstly, we apologised for over-stepping, which we totally were doing, and then told her that we’d be happy to watch over him while he’s here, and that he’s causing no harm. She wasn’t sure at first, but she figured it was worth the try.

  Eventually, he was allowed to come on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at three. He started by sitting at the bar and eating fries and a burger. After some time, he started talking to Sharon, who would let him sit with her. He asked her endless questions and she answered them with the patience that only a teacher can have.

  Between the staff and these five unlikely few, make up a family. We invited them to our Christmas party and they take part in secret Santa. I think Toby was hesitant at first, but Mr. Blockow took him under his wing. Turns out Blockow was a football player in his youth too, and he says he regrets every time he treated a woman badly. Toby was at ease after that.

  We have some semi-regular customers too, as all local diners do, and we have lots of tourists coming in and out during the day, but more commonly during the Christmas period.

  All in all, this is a thriving diner with wonderful people. I’ve never felt luckier to have to work.

  Mr. Blockow digs into his pie with relish and I walk over to a table of mothers.

  “Good morning, ladies. What can I get for you today?”

  One of the women, a blonde one, looks up from the menu.

  “Does it look like we’re ready to order? Give us a minute before you force yourself on us.”

  I have to force myself not to retort, but luckily, I don’t have to.

  “Patricia!” One of the women hisses. “Do not talk to the young girl like that, you ignoramus. Apologise, right now.”

  The rude blonde looks around the table, expecting support from her friends, but they all appear disgusted.

  “Sorry.” She mumbles, clearly not meaning it for one second, but the brunette appears satisfied.

  “Sorry, darling. We just need a minute to go over the menu. Is that OK?”

  “Of course, ma’am. I’ll be over in five minutes.”

  I walk away and Jules gives me an inquiring look. I just shake my head and walk back over the counter, to wait.

  I’m used to rude customers. I think everyone who works in a job where you have to talk directly to the customer is used to it. It’s honestly quite disgusting, but you have to deal with it.

  “Swallow your pride and pretend it’s all OK.” Jones would tell her. “Better for you and for them.”

  Obviously, I know he’s right, but it’s hard sometimes. Why do they think they have a right to come in here and treat me like crap? Like I’m not a person, merely a waitress with nothing going on upstairs.

  It’s degrading.

  I watch as the clock ticks on and I engage in some pleasant small talk with Mr. Blockow. After the five minutes have passed, I politely excuse myself and return to the table.

  “Are you ready to order?” I ask, my voice calm and my face the picture of politeness.

  “Yes.” The nice brunette replies.

  They go around the table, placing their orders and I jot it all down quickly.

  I hand the ticket to Jones and begins preparing the food. While I can’t cook it, I always take the time to offer a helping hand in the kitchen when we’re not too busy. Takes the strain from Jones and Francesca.

  The day continues on and Mr. Blockow waves a merry goodbye as he heads to work. The ladies leave and there is a hefty tip left on the table. As per usual, I place it in the large jar behind the counter.

  We have a rule that any tips are to be shared among the entire staff. I don’t know if this is the case everywhere, but here we don’t mind it. Everyone earns the same amount of money, so when a tip is left, it’s assumed that it’s left for the hard work of everyone.

  It’s a fair system, and it’s one of the reasons that Jones is such a great boss. He takes none of the tips himself, claiming that the diner brings in enough profit to keep him and his wife on his feet, even though we all know his wife makes all the dough in their relationship.

  At the end of each month, the money is divided between all the staff and we go out for a drink, though we go for coffee because Francesca doesn’t drink and Jessica isn’t old enough.

  I put all my tip money to the side. I’m saving up to send Jules and Sophia on a break somewhere. I’ve raised quite a bit so far, and I believe that in the next year, I’ll have enough. I’ll happily cover all her shifts and not be paid for them, so she doesn’t lose any money while she’s gone.

  She’ll hate me at first, but I hope she’ll take the opportunity for the break that she so very much deserves.

  As the day goes along, we serve everyone and anyone, from rowdy high school students, to old ladies and lonely teens looking for a place to study.

  Most are polite, but none of them are the person I want to see so badly.

  I regret having to leave Peter’s so hastily this morning. I should have left a note or something, told him why I had to leave. I don’t have his phone number or his full name for Facebook. I have no way of contacting him.

  Maybe I should go back to the Dove tonight and see if his bartender friend is there. He will probably give me his number. I’d really like to see him again.

  It’s almost midday when Jules taps me on the shoulder.

  “You got a stalker, Bell?”

  “What?” I ask, as I place some dirty plates in the kitchen sink.

  “You’ve got a visitor.” She nods her head towards the booth by the window.

  Curious, I almost head straight over, but there is a small family sat in the booth opposite and I need to go serve them first, as they appear agitated.

  “Good morning. What can I get you today?”

  They ramble their orders and I jot it down.

  “It’ll be with you soon. If you need anything else, just call me back over. My name is Isobel.”

  They return to their avid conversation about travelling and I turn to find Peter staring at me.

  I don’t have time to stop and talk, and I’d never disrespect Jones so much to that.

  I tap on my watch and mouth for him to wait. I have a break in fifteen minutes, so we can talk then. He nods and I get back to work.

  “Who’s that?” Jules asks, as she loads her arms with trays to carry to the table she is serving. I take one of the trays and join her.

  “He was the boy I went home with last night.” I whisper back.

  “You went home with a boy?”

  “Yes. I make friends, sometimes.”

  We pass out the plates and return to the counter, waiting for more customers and the food to be ready.

  “You didn’t just make a friend, you made a boy friend.”

  “It’s not like that.” I argue, giggling.

  “Not yet, but you want it to be.”

  I consider her words for a minute. Do I? Am I ready to consider committing myself to someone else? With my studies and my work, I’m not sure if I even have the time to spare.

  “You defin
itely want to.” Jules observes. “Wait until you hear from Jones, OK? I’m not having you taken for a ride by some asswipe.”

  I laugh and nod.

  The next fifteen minutes drag so slowly that I worry some kind of time freezing spell has been cast on the world. I serve and I take orders and I smile politely as I count down the seconds until I can talk to Peter again.

  Finally, the time comes and I slide into the booth.

  I apologise for sneaking out and explain why I had to. He looks strained, and I’m worried that I’ve caused it. His hair is a mess and he didn’t shave this morning, so he has a homeless vibe going on.

  His eyes though. They’re so beautiful I could drown in them. I just want to lose myself in his face, learning each crease and scar. I want to kiss his lips again, to feel that security I felt last night.