Page 23 of Midnight Oil

Cursing under my breath, I grabbed a new bottle of ketchup from my station. I couldn't stop myself from glancing down at the action below as I walked across the third platform where the fraternity was sitting. Quinn's helmet was on but he was standing off to the side with his horse waiting for his turn at the joust. I was relieved that his face was hidden by the helmet.

I smacked the ketchup down on the table and had to lean out of the way of the guy's grabby hand. I nearly pitched myself down the steps to the second level in my frantic effort to avoid him. One more time and I was going to call the assistant manager over to ask them to behave or leave. Unfortunately, because the diners tended to get pretty fired up with drink and competition, the management had set the bar pretty high on behavior that warranted removal from the premises. But grabbing the server was definitely on the list.

"Can we get some more root beer?" a sweet young girl asked at the table on the first level. They had the front row seats, the best in the house, as long as you didn't mind the occasional clump of arena sand getting tossed onto your turkey leg.

"Yes, of course." I collected up their empty root beer pitcher and headed across the platform to my drink station. As I passed a table that seemed to be a women's night out, I heard one of the women comment that she wished they'd sat in the red section because the knight was so hot. I had to agree with her there, smart lady.

My eyes flitted down below. Quinn's joust was about to start. He'd told me more than once that he really enjoyed his job, that he looked forward to riding and jousting. Was he leaving to work for his brother? The money would be far better, but I couldn't imagine him working in an office dressed in a suit and tie.

I filled the pitcher of root beer and carried it back to the table on the first level. I poured it in glasses and placed the pitcher on the table. From above, the thick necked creep was once again yelling for my attention. I wondered if he had any idea that there was an actual medieval show going on down below.

"Server, could you bring us another pitcher of ale? And hurry up would ya?"

The worst part of all, obnoxious customers were always extra cheap with the tip, so I was going to endure his rude behavior without any compensation at the end.

A raucous cheer went up in the red section as the announcer introduced the daring, fearless Red Knight.

I returned to my drink station and picked up a pitcher of ale. "Miss, can we get another basket of bread," a polite man asked as I passed by with the beer.

"Yes, right away." I scurried across toward the frat table. I planned to just plunk the pitcher down and hurry away but the jerk picked up his glass.

His big forehead shaded his deep set eyes as he grinned smugly. "Pour it in my glass." He leaned to the side to make a point of checking out my legs. The gesture nearly made him fall out of his chair. I was sorely disappointed that he managed to stay upright.

I took his greasy glass and poured the beer, then set it down hard in front of him. I gave him a forced smile. As I spun around to get the basket of bread for my other customer, the guy's cold, sweaty hand shot up under my dress. I shrieked and jumped away from his groping hand. My right foot slipped off the step and twisted painfully. I shrieked as I tumbled down the three steps landing sharply on both knees. My right foot throbbed with unbearable pain. I was so deep in my cloud of shock and pain, it took me a second to notice that a stunned silence was making its way around the arena. It seemed everyone in the whole damn place had seen my embarrassing fall.

The deafening silence was broken by a simultaneous gasp that whooshed through the vast dining hall like a gust of wind. I lifted my face. Several of my customers were working their way over to help me but they stopped when something in the arena caught their eye. I was behind the small retaining wall that separated level one of the dining tables from the show arena, but everyone seemed to be focused on something below.

Then a flash of red was followed by heavy black boots landing on the first level of my section. Quinn had removed his helmet. He marched toward me with such a look of concern, a sob bubbled from my lips. I sat back on the step behind me and gently brought my right foot forward. My ankle was already swelling up like a ball.

Every pair of eyes in the building was on the fallen server with the swollen ankle and the knight who had hoisted himself over the barrier to come to her rescue. It would have been wonderfully romantic if it hadn't been so darn embarrassing.

Quinn stooped in front of me, not an easy task in his armor. "Are you all right, Suzy Q?" He grazed his gloved hand over my ankle. "Shit, that doesn't look good. Just a second. I need to take care of something." He straightened. The people sitting in the nearby tables craned their necks and stared up at him in awe.

"Gosh, he's even better looking up close," I heard one customer mutter from somewhere in the haze of faces. "Bigger too," someone said.

Quinn tromped past in his big boots. I looked back over my shoulder as he reached the fraternity's table. The creep who had groped me looked close to choking on his own vomit as the Red Knight approached the table.

"Quinn, no it's all right." My voice trembled from the pain.

Quinn lowered his face and said something quietly to the guy. The jerk leaned back so far to get away from Quinn's menacing glare, he fell backward. The crowd roared with laughter.

"What's happening here?" The assistant manager was breathing hard as if he had run the entire circumference of the arena. His eyes shot to my swollen ankle. "Oh wow, Suzy, we need to get you to a doctor."

The frat boy was clumsily climbing back on his chair.

Quinn turned toward Gene. "This guy grabbed Suzy and made her fall. It's your call." His big boots carried him back down the three steps. He leaned over. I circled my arm around his shoulder and he lifted me off the steps. His armor was cold and hard but I melted against him.

The crowd was cheering and stomping and chanting, 'Red Knight' as he carried me out of the dining area. I peered up at him. "I think the Red Knight just won the hearts and minds of the entire arena."

A faint smile crossed his lips. "There is only one person's heart and mind I want to win, and I'm holding her in my arms."

"I would sigh dreamily here but my ankle hurts too much. However, you can expect one in the near future."

Someone rushed to open the employee locker room and he carried me inside. Quinn's armor creaked as he lowered me onto the bench. The ankle looked even bigger. One of the theater crew came rushing in with a bag of ice. The kid's name was Gary and his color faded when he saw my ankle.

Quinn knelt down in front of me, again a difficult task considering his costume. "Doesn't look broken. Might just be a really bad sprain." He gently placed the bag of ice over it. Gary hovered nervously next to us.

"Thanks, Gary," Quinn said, apparently deciding that's why Gary was staying around.

---