Page 5 of The Matchmaker Club
As I headed toward the waitress station to grab a wine glass, Austin walked through the door.
I pretended not to notice and filled the glass with soda water and reached for a lemon.
“Can we talk after your shift?” Austin leaned against the edge of the counter, his blue eyes pleading and his dirty blonde hair falling over his face, badly in need of a cut.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There’s plenty to talk about.”
Anger bubbled in my chest, about ready to pop. “Whatever it is you have to say, I’m not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to wait on.”
Austin gripped my arm. “Just give me ten minutes after your shift.Please.”
I held up the soda water. “If you don’t take your hands off me in two seconds, you’ll be wearing this.”
He held up his hands on the second count, knowing full well I’d do it.
“What do you want me to do, Taylor? Tell the world I’m sorry?” He pulled out a chair from one of the middle tables and stood on top of it.
Oh my god.
Austin yelled from the top of his lungs. “I screwed up. I was a dumb, stupid kid, and I’m sorry.”
“Are you high or something? Get down from there!”
“Only if you promise to talk to me. Give me fifteen minutes, and if you want me to leave you alone after that, I will.”
“Fine. Just get down already.”
“Not until you give me a time and a place.”
Oh, he was about to wear this soda in three seconds if he didn’t watch it. “Seven thirty. My house.”
His face scrunched up with worry. “Will your grandmother be there?”
I smiled. “Yup. Take it or leave it.”
His head dropped in defeat as he forced out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll take it, but you have to give me thirty minutes instead of fifteen.”
“Deal. Now get down.”
Austin grinned, his sun-kissed skin and eyes brightening even more. “Whatever the lady wants.” He jumped down from the chair in one hop and then mocked a bow before heading out the door.
I faked a smile, as if this whole embarrassing display had never happened, and placed the glass in front of Mr. Intensity. “Soda water with lemon in a wine glass, no ice.” I let out a breath. “Are you both ready to order?”
Mr. Intensity stared up at me a few seconds before he responded. “Is this place always this dramatic, or is it just something you seem to attract?”
The bubble Austin had left in my chest finally burst. “Are you always this rude, or is that just the kind of person you are?”
“Do you always speak to your customers like that?”
“Do you always speak to waitstaff like that?”
The nice one cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but, ah, we have an appointment and should get going. If you wouldn’t mind giving us the check?”
“Foryou, the drinks are on the house.”
He slid out of the booth. Mr. Intensity hadn’t moved an inch, his eyes digging into me. He took out the lemon and let the water pour down his throat in a few gulps before standing and walking out the door.
