Page 15 of Unbelonging
I'd declined, of course. Not that he didn't seem nice and all, but there was a strict policy against picking up guys on the job. Policy or not, it wouldn’t be a good idea anyway. Those kinds of things never worked out, and then I'd just have one more thing to dread when those same guys came into the restaurant later on.
Giving Josie a smile, I waved away the tip money. "Nah, you earned it, not me." I reminded myself that she did me a favor, not the other way around. Honestly, I'd have paid her to take that table.
"If you insist," Josie said, tucking the money into her apron. Still, she couldn’t stop talking about it. "You know, he's even more gorgeous up close. I think I drooled on his cheeseburger."
"A cheeseburger?" I said. "He didn't order a steak?"
"No." She squinted at me. "Why do you ask?"
I shrugged. "No reason."
A few minutes later, I was lugging a fresh tub of coleslaw out of the walk-in refrigerator when I became aware that something strange was going on in the dining area.
It started slow, with the murmur of voices punctuated by random shouts. The voices didn't sound angry so much as excited, like sports fans watching a big play.
I poked my head around the corner, and I swear, I saw half the restaurant with their faces pressed against the long wall of windows that overlooked the front parking lot.
Before I had any idea what was going on, a large table of college-aged diners bolted from their seats and hurried out the front double doors, leaving behind jackets and plates of half-eaten burgers. Instantly, they were joined by about half the window-gawkers and a wave of other diners, mostly guys.
At tables throughout the restaurant, I saw random, lone women, looking either miffed or amused as their dates, husbands, or whatever abandoned them for who-knows-what.
The crowd near the door was swelling, with diners chatting excitedly as they jostled each other out the entryway.
Keith, the night manager, jumped into the mix, elbowing his way toward the wide double doors. He turned to face the crowd, which quickly parted around him and kept on moving.
"Hey!" Keith said in a loud, high-pitched voice. "You can't leave if you haven't paid."
Other than a couple of amused glances, the crowd mostly ignored him and kept on going.
"Alright, people!" Keith yelled, like a principal facing unruly students at a high school assembly. "You'd better turn around, or you're in big trouble!"
"Dude," said a beefy blond guy with a crew cut, as he jostled Keith out of the way. "We're comin' back. Chill, will ya?"
Keith turned to holler at the guy's receding back. "When?"
"After the fight," the guy yelled over his shoulder as he exited the wide double doors. "Duh!"
"Fight?" Keith spluttered. He grabbed the arm of the next guy who jostled past him. "What fight?"
This guy didn't bother with an answer, but just shook off Keith and kept on going. A second later, Keith turned around and joined the crowd, elbowing his way out the front doors with the rest of them.
"Don't just stand there, call the police!" Keith shouted to no one in particular.
I glanced at the nearest phone, located next to the main cash register. Julia, the petite, brown-haired hostess, was already dialing.
My gaze scanned the restaurant. Most of my tables were empty, well, of people at least. I saw abandoned jackets, pushed-back chairs, and even a couple of purses. It looked like crew cut guy was right. The owners were coming back – probably – but that didn't mean they weren't incredibly stupid for leaving their belongings unattended.
I was still holding the tub of coleslaw. Unable to resist, I hoisted the tub onto a nearby counter and rushed toward the front entrance to join the others.
Outside, a crowd of at least fifty people had converged in a surprisingly tight circle, between two long rows of cars. Cheers and shouts filled the air as I wedged myself between a girl in a leather jacket and the big blond guy with a crew cut.
I stood on my tiptoes, but couldn’t see a thing, except for the backs of people in front of me.
The noise was deafening. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled out to the crew cut guy, "What's going on?"
"Fight," he said, sparing me half a glance, followed by a much longer look when he saw my uniform in all its skimpy glory.
"You wanna see?" he asked, his eyes bright with excitement that likely had little to do with my uniform.
