of some men’s magazine was definitely a highlight. Which said a lot about my current situation.
I didn’t have time to worry about the consequences of being stretched too thin. This was the kind of life crisis that you muscled through.
When it was all over, I would book myself a vacation on a beach where the only thing I had to worry about was if my straw was long enough to reach the bottom of my frozen cocktail.
“Table Twelve wants their check, Ollie.” George, my boss and the grumpiest Italian grandpa I’d ever met in my life, announced brusquely as if I’d spent the last four hours ignoring diners instead of waiting on them. He hadn’t bothered to learn my name when I started three weeks ago. I hadn’t bothered to teach him. The guy went through servers like new parents went through baby wipes.
At least the checks were made out correctly by Mrs. George. That’s what mattered.
“On it,” I told him.
A mango margarita, I decided, hefting the plates and pushing through the swinging kitchen doors.
By the time I had that mango margarita in hand, I might be in my sixties instead of a ripe old thirty-nine—thanks for pointing that out, Charming—but I would fix what needed fixing. There was no other option.
The dining room, though in desperate need of a complete makeover and maybe an industrial scrubbing, was warm and cozy.
Maybe I could offer to do some after-hours cleaning for a couple extra bucks?
“Here you go,” I said, sliding the pizzas in front of them.
The woman with the to-die-for leather skirt and I’m-a-badass haircut seemed to approve my topping smiley face on hers. She laughed in that way that born-rich people did. Not too loudly and with absolutely no snorting.
Charming, on the other hand, scowled down at his pizza. He had a face for scowling. That strong jaw was even more defined with his teeth clenching like that. Those icy eyes that couldn’t decide if they were blue or gray narrowed.
Ugh. He had those yummy little crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
Was grumpy and rude suddenly the new hot? My vagina seemed to think so.
It hadn’t been that long since I’d given her some action. But apparently she was into well-dressed douches now. Great. Thank God I was working myself to death for the foreseeable future and wouldn’t have time to explore her new inappropriate preferences.
“Can I get you two anything else right now?” I asked, a paragon of helpfulness.
“That’s it,” Charming said, tossing his napkin on the table and sliding out of the booth. “You and I are going to have a little screaming match about how to treat your customers with respect.”
He stood and closed his long fingers around my wrist.
I knew he felt it, too. That unexpected jolt. Like taking a shot of whiskey or sticking a finger in a light socket. Maybe both at the same time. For one moment of pure insanity, I wondered if he intended to take me over his knee and if I’d let him.
“Dominic, for the love of God. Behave yourself,” the woman sighed in exasperation.
In answer, he spun his pizza around so his mother could read it.
FU spelled out in greasy pepperoni.
“Is there a problem, sir?” I asked with sugary politeness.
“Oh, my,” the woman said, pressing her fingers to her mouth and trying to stifle a laugh. A real one this time.
“It’s not funny,” he snapped.
“It is from where I stand,” I said.
“You are a server. Your job is to act like one and serve,” he said.
Ass. And. Hole.
“You’re a human. Your job is to act like one,” I countered. Any other day, I probably would have let it all go. I knew better than to jeopardize a paycheck. But I’d come in after the lunch shift to find the nineteen-year-old server sobbing into paper napkins in the back because a dick in a suit had unloaded his bad day on her.
Freaking George the jerk caught me trying to comfort her and screamed, “There’s no crying in pizza.”
“I want to speak to the manager,” Dick 2 in the suit announced.
“Dominic, must you?” his date sighed.
“Oh, he must,” I said.
I had him pegged. This guy was one of those people. He believed that everyone under him existed just to serve him. I bet he had a personal assistant and that he had no idea that they were human. He probably called them at 3 a.m. and made them run to the convenience store for lube or eye of newt.