“A hello or a wave would’ve been nice,” I said. I was only teasing...mostly. It was amusing to see him squirm.
“Oh. I’m...I’m sorry.”
I laughed, unable to hold a straight face anymore. “Don’t worry about it, Sam. I’m not gonna go home and cry about it.”
“That’s good. I think.”
For the rest of the journey, Sam and I volleyed questions back and forth at each other. Favorite movies, foods we liked and hated, or we were of two minds about, depending on how they were served. He never really had a bad word to say about anything.
“Here we are,” Sam declared, pulling up outside The Hut.
I grabbed my bag from the floor. “Thanks a lot for this, Sam. It, erm, it means a lot that you’d do this for nothing in return.”
“I wouldn’t say nothing. I’d like to hang out more.”
“Yeah, definitely!”
He smiled, looking down at the steering wheel. “Okay cool. I guess I’ll see you later.”
“You coming down to see me tonight?”
“Of course. Gotta be there to support your first day. You excited?”
I shrugged. “Let’s put it this way, I’m not here by choice.” I glanced over at the time illuminated on the dashboard. “Better get in there. See ya later.”
“Bye, Amerie.”
I climbed out of the car and into the chilly air, sucking in a deep breath. I could do this. Plenty people had after school jobs. How hard could waitressing be? Compared to battling Damned, this should be a piece of cake.
Reluctantly, I pushed open the door and headed inside. The Hut looked like a totally different place when it was empty, and all the lights were up. It was open for business, but not many people were there. A couple sat in one of the booths, and there were a few people playing pool. There was no one on the dance floor and only soft radio music playing overhead.
“Good, you’re here,” John said, appearing beside me. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.”
“Didn’t really have a choice, did I?”
He slapped a hand on my back, chuckling. “Yeah, well, let’s move past that. It doesn’t matter how you got the job. Point is... you’re here.” He looked down at my bag and coat. “Put that stuff in the staff room. Should be a couple empty lockers. You can use whichever you like. Then come back out and meet me at the bar. We’ll go for a tour, and I’ll get you shadowing someone for the day.”
He pointed to a side door marked ‘staff only’ and I dutifully headed towards it. The staff room was small and shabby. A few beat-up sofas sat against the left and right walls. The wall opposite the door held lockers, and a large, wooden table pressed holding a microwave and a kettle. A mini fridge squatted underneath.
I screwed up my nose. The room looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months. The microwave had started out white but was now a murky brown color. The time was frozen on a permanent midnight. I mean, it wasn’t bad enough to be unsafe, but it didn’t look too clean either.
Finding a spare locker was easy. Finding a spare locker with a key that worked was slightly harder. When I finally managed to turn the key, I shoved my bag and coat inside and slammed the door.
Spinning around, I came face to face with a pale brunette. Her thick hair was tied back away from her face, but strands had come loose, and, in the few moments that it took for me to assess her, she had blown the loose hair out of her eyes three times.
“You Amerie?” Her voice was husky. Sexy. I wanted a voice like that.
I nodded once. “Yeah.”
“I’m Emily. John asked me to show you the ropes. So you’ll be shadowing me for the day,” she explained. I couldn’t decide whether she was happy about our arrangement, or not.
“Oh, okay. Cool.”
She led the way out of the staff room and over to another door in the restaurant area.
“This is the door to the kitchen. Usually, we keep it open. That way when our hands are full, we don’t have to stop, and wait for someone to hold it open for us. The quicker we can get multiple plates over to a table, the less likely we’ll drop it. It’s all about speed here.”
“Yeah, makes sense.”
We walked into the kitchen and Emily introduced me to the three chefs, playing a game of poker at one of the side tables. She showed me where to put the order slips, how to check on the food, and whether it was ready to go out, and how to take orders quickly, but write legibly. Then she sat me at an empty table back in the main room and told me to familiarize myself with the menu, even though I practically knew everything on it.
I think she forgot about me because an hour later, I was still sitting at the table, staring at the plastic menu. I’d have burgers and ribs floating around in my mind when I fell asleep later.
“Amerie,” Emily called.
I let out a thankful sigh, stood up, and wiped my hands on my jeans. “I think I got a pretty good handle on the menu.”
“Good,” she said, “Because we have a customer.” She pointed to the back of someone’s head sitting alone in a booth. “Go take their order.”
I gaped at Emily, repeating her words in my head, making sure I properly understood her.
“You want me to serve a customer? A real live customer?”
She nodded. “The best way to learn is to experience it for yourself. You learn by mistakes and by asking questions. But you’re not gonna know what questions to ask if you don’t get stuck in.” She gave me a little shove, and I stumbled forward.
“But...”
“No buts. Have you got the order pad I gave you?”
I felt the pocket of the apron tied around my waist. “Yes.”
“Then you’re set. Good luck.”
She turned and strutted up to the bar where she began to talk to another waitress stationed there. Either I was being paranoid, or they were laughing at me. They thought I couldn’t do this. Well, I’d show them. Pulling my shoulders back, I slipped out my pad and pen and walked over to the customer.
It was him. The mysterious guy from last night. The guy I’d gotten the bad vibe from last night. Well, the supposed bad vibe anyway. I gaped at him, unsure of what to do. I wanted to run away and not have to stand there, trying to decide whether he was a Damned or not. However, I didn’t run; I stood there, staring at him, like a huge, creepy loser.
“Why, hello there,” he said, throwing an arm over the top of the vinyl seat and beaming at me. “We meet again. I did not know you worked here. What a nice surprise.”
Chapter Six
Six Degrees of Separation
I cleared my throat, deciding that as long as he was here, and so was I, that I might as well figure out if my gut reaction read him right or not.
“You’re here early,” I said, pointedly looking around at the still empty room.
He shrugged. “What can I say? The food keeps me coming back.”
I’d tried many things on the menu here, and none of them was worth coming all the way downtown to eat out of fancy.
“Really? If you say so, then.”
He sat forward, folding his arms on the table and staring at me with a gaze so intense that it was as if he tried to stare deep into my soul.
“Amerie,” he said, eyes sliding to the name badge on my chest. “Pretty.”
Suddenly, I wished I’d pinned it to my arm. “Are you alone?”
“Why? Want to join me?” He winked a bright blue eye at me. Weirdly enough, there was nothing. No rush of darkness, no crawling sensations up my back.
I felt my cheeks grow ever warmer. “Erm, pass, thanks. I’m working.”
“But you’d take up the offer if you weren’t.” It wasn’t a question.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.” He smirked.
I took a deep breath. “You’re dodging my question.”
“Aren’t you supposed to ask me what I want to order?”
“Fine. What can I get you?”
“A phone number and a s
mile.” He grinned widely.
“Right, I give up. I’ll get one of the others to serve you.” I turned to walk away, but he reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Wait,” he softly pleaded. “I’m enjoying your company.”
“I’m not enjoying yours.”
“Touché.” He let go of my hand, and sat back in his seat. “I’ll have a beer and the half rack of ribs. Actually, make it the full rack.”
“Anything else?” I asked, jotting it down. “A starter? Any extra sides?”
“I’ll order whatever you want if you’ll stick around and talk to me for a bit longer.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why would you think that would get me to stick around? And why do you even want to talk to me any longer?” I still couldn’t decide whether he was Damned or not. There weren’t any overwhelming rushes of darkness this time. That didn’t mean he wasn’t evil. Maybe he needed a test. Most Damned couldn’t resist showing off their enhanced abilities up here on Earth. If he were Damned, there would be no way he’d give up the opportunity to try and impress me. I pretended to lose grip on my notepad and let it drop to the ground.
He didn’t catch it with speedy reflexes. In fact, he didn’t try to catch it at all!
I’d probably imagined the dark sensation yesterday, and all I was dealing with now was a cocky idiot.
“You should pick that up,” he suggested.
I groaned and quickly grabbed the notepad off the ground.
“To answer your earlier question, if I order more, the higher the bill, the higher the tip, right?” he answered. “And I want you to stick around because you’re interesting.”
“Interesting,” I repeated.
He nodded. “Yeah, and it’s about time things got interesting around here.”
He glanced over to Emily and the other waitress, who were watching us very closely. Was there something between them that I didn’t know?
“I’ll go get your beer,” I said, walking away. I handed the order sheet to the kitchen staff and then went over to the bar to get his drink. The man behind the bar expertly poured out a glass of frothy beer before handing it over to me.
“You new here?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yep. Thrown in at the deep end and struggling to swim.”
“I thought so. Did you ask the guy for ID?”
I wanted to slap myself upside the head. “Shit, no.”
“Make sure you ask for it before you hand over the beer,” the barman said. “You don’t wanna get in trouble for selling drink to a minor on your first day.”
“Thanks.” At least someone here had my back.
Emily narrowed her eyes as I sauntered past her, then she turned to whisper to her friend. I tried my best to ignore them.
“I’m gonna need some ID,” I said once I was back at the table.
“Sure.” He dug around in his back pocket and pulled out a designer wallet. Then he slipped his driving license out and shoved it at me. Dane Marshall. I would never have put the name with the face. As much as I’d have liked to decline him the beer, he was of age. Nineteen years old…just turned.
“Enjoy your beer.”
“You’re not gonna stay?” he asked, genuinely surprised.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Look, I can imagine you probably get girls who would do anything to sit with you. Good for you, but I’m not one of them. Winking and cheesy chat up lines won’t cut it with me. Stick to the girls you know and I’ll stick with my gut instinct that’s telling me to stay away from you.”
“You’re spunky. I like it.” He took a sip of his beer.
“You’re creepy. I don’t like it.”
He laughed. “You can’t think this is going to get you a good tip.”
“Luckily, I don’t care.”
He cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. “You should.”
“And why is that?”
“’Cause I’m your boss.”
My whole body had gone cold. Blood rushed to my ears. What did he just say? My who?
“What...who...how is that possible? You’re barely old enough to be out of Uni. And anyway, the owner of this place is a guy called John-”
“Marshall,” he finished for me. “My dad.”
It was, as if, the room was spinning and I was the only thing standing still. I pressed a hand to the table, trying to steady myself. Wow, I was going to get fired. Pissed off the boss’s son, and now, John was going to call the police on me.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he continued. “How could someone as good looking as me be related to someone as ugly as him.”
“No, I wasn’t...”
“It’s cool. It’s the truth, right?”
I remained silent.
“Well, anyway, he’s my step-dad, but he raised me since birth. Only father I’ve ever known really. We have absolutely nothing in common, though. Nada. Zilch.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“You have a trusting face.” The sarcasm in his voice was insulting.
“Right. Thanks, I guess.”
“You know what they say about six degrees of separation? We all know each other somehow.”
“That’s not...” I stopped, not wanting to continue to talk to him any further. “See you later. I’ll be back with your food, and then to collect the bill. If you’re paying that is.”
“I’ll pay,” he said, smirking. “Oh, and call me Marshall.”
“Thought your name was Dane.”
“It is. But I prefer going by my surname.”
“How very retro of you.” I turned to walk away when he called my name. Groaning, I slowly turned back to face him. “Yes?”
“You see how you are right now?” he asked, nodding up at my face.
“What?”
“You’re frustrated. Overwhelmed. A little unkempt.” He picked up his beer and took another sip. “It’s working for you. Very sexy.”
I clenched my hands into fists by my side. He liked seeing me squirm. What kind of asshole did that?
“At the risk of being fired... you’re an ass.”
“And speaking of asses...” He peered around to stare at mine.
“Hey! You’re disgusting, Marshall. I’m definitely going now.”
“So you’ve said, and yet you’re still standing here.”
Flustered, I spun back around and marched towards the bar, the sound of his laugh ringing in my ears.
“How was it?” Emily asked, stifling a grin.
I turned to glare at her, and it pleased me when she flinched back slightly. “It went fine, thanks for asking.” Then I turned to her shocked companion. “I’m Amerie. And you are?”
“Cara,” she answered shortly.
“Wasn’t he...rude?” Emily continued.
I shrugged. “No, not really,” I bluffed. “Why? Is he rude to you?”
She shook her head a little too quickly. “No. Not ever.” She was lying, but then so was I.
Deciding that I didn’t much like Emily or Cara, I marched over to the other side of the bar where the bartender stood. He barely looked at me, let alone spoke to me. I’d take that over Emily any day.
By eight, The Hut was swarming with people, and I’d made, like, twenty mistakes. Taking food to the wrong table; getting drink orders wrong; ordering cheese on the wrong burgers. That kind of thing. Never had I imagined that being a waitress could be this stressful.
“Oh, Amerie!” Mercy called as I rushed past her booth.
I skidded to a halt. “Yes, Mercy. What now?”
“My diet Coke needs refilling. Be a dear and get me another one please?” Mercy answered, thrusting an empty glass into my hand.
“Oh, and me,” Chuck agreed, sliding his glass across the table to me and avoiding all eye contact. However, he was wearing a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses, so I couldn’t be entirely sure.
“Take your time,” Sam added, shooting Mercy and Chuck a pleading look. “She’s stressed guys. Look how busy it is.”
“Mussolini for one,” I grumbled. I swept up the other glass and then stormed towards the kitchen. The guy at the bar from before, whose name I learned was Ross, gave me a sympathetic look as I approached him.
“More drink orders for your friends?”
“Yep. I swear, I’m going to accidentally tip one of these on Mercy’s lap if she doesn’t quit,” I said, leaning my elbows on the slightly sticky counter. “Is it always this busy?”
“You should know. Don’t you come down here a lot?” He popped a slice of lemon into one glass and a slice of lime into the other. “Lemon is diet.”
“Thanks.” I took the glasses. “And yeah I was here a lot, but on the consumer side of things. Not as staff. I never really noticed if the waitresses were busy.”
He nodded, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. “At least you’ll make some nice money in tips. What time does your shift end?”
“Nine-thirty.”
“Not too long then,” Ross said. Then he turned to serve other people standing at the bar.
With a sigh, I returned the drinks to Mercy and Chuck before I headed back into the kitchen to see whether any of my orders was up. They weren’t. .
“You look tired,” Marshall said.
I jumped. He was leaning against one of the pool tables, cue in hand. What was he still doing here?
“Thanks. You look deranged, so I guess we both need work.”
He smiled, shuffling the cue from hand to hand. “Have you taken a break yet?”
“No. I haven’t had time to.”
“Go and take one. Get Emily or one of the others to cover you for twenty minutes. You definitely look like you need it.”
I didn’t know whether to be offended or thankful. I did need a break; that was undoubtedly true. Bursting for the toilet was a phrase I’d used to describe my state over an hour ago. Now I was downright desperate. Did it have to be Marshall, of all people, to let me finally have a break?
“Okay, fine,” I snapped, backing down.
“You’re welcome!” He called after my retreating form.
My Heart be Damned Page 5