Page 10 of Back to Willow

Shilah did an amazing job with the decoration. It’s modern and sleek, but with such a pop of colour with the yellow items. The walls are a bright white and the floor just a shade darker in a light grey tone.

The chandeliers are disco balls instead, but the leather benches of the booths are yellow like the flowers decorating the tables. I love it.

A displeased grumble resonates next to me, bringing my attention back to the grumpy man sitting down on one of those booths. He’s squinting at the disco balls with disgust before his eyes slide back to me.

Great, he still hates me.

Not letting my emotions get the best of me, I give him the food menu and ask, “While you choose, can I bring you something to drink?”

“Huh?” He looks up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“What will you want to drink, sir?”I repeat.

His shoulders slump slightly, and his expression goes back to the expression I have seen most of the time during class.

“Just water,” he breathes.

Not even losing another second, I turn around, scurrying off to bring him his water. My hands sweat, and my heart skyrockets as I look for the bottle of water. If he hates me at school, what will he say or do now that he knows where I work? Just the idea makes me anxious, not letting me focus completely on my task.

Where are the freaking water bottles?

Hopefully, he’ll be more polite tonight than he was at school. Right? It’s my job after all…He’ll be considerate. Or not? What if it just makes him act worse? Ugh, what am I going to do?

“Hmm, that one’s quite handsome, honey,” Shilah whispers, making me jump at the unexpected sound of her voice from behind me.

“Yeah, and he’s also my professor,” I moan.

She whistles slowly before adding, “Damn, and here I thought I had found you some boyfriend material.”

“Don’t play matchmaker on me, Shilah. All I want from men is distance.” She just shrugs her shoulders at me, probably meaning ‘your choice’, and I finally find the water bottle he has asked for.

“How long does it take to bring me some water?” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when I get to his table.

Certainly not nicer. Nope. Asshole it is, apparently.

Silently, I place it on the table, avoiding eye contact for as long as I can. When I finally give in, amusement whirls around his brown irises along with a mischievous smile.

“I-I apologise. I just started a few days ago and still get confused about where to find what.” I do my best to keep a kind smile. “Have you chosen what to eat?”

“So, you’re new at this job?” He completely ignores my previous question.

“Ahm, yes,” I say quickly. “Actua—”

“I am curious now. What made a girl like you search for this kind of job?” He cuts me off, and my head reels back in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t seem the type of girl who would spend her time working. As a waitress on top of that.”

I feel the heat creep up my neck right onto my cheeks.The embarrassment. What’s wrong with being a waitress? It’s honest work and honest money. His eyes lower, noticing my reaction. The proof of his amusement is in his smirk. How can a person who’s supposed to help his students improve and develop their intellectual capacities be this horrid?

I won’t retort. At this moment, he’s a client, not to mention he’s also my teacher.

With shaking hands, I bring my notebook up and face him. “What can I get you,sir?”

His jaw clenches, and his eyes close before he grits out, “Just a burger with fries, please. Extra cheese.”

I write down and nod as I prepare to leave. This man must be miserable to try and reassure himself of someone else’s misery. This next semester will be hell, for sure. All his handsomely evil face promises are ruthlessness and loathing.

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