Page 9 of Daddy's Muse
The usual dinner crowd died down around 10 p.m., making way for a trickling flow of college students—some drunk and some just up late studying.
It was just after 11 p.m. when I looked up from where I was refilling the sugar and salt containers on the counter to find a ruggedly handsome man take a seat on one of the nearby stools.
And wow.
Wow, wow, wow, wow,wow.
If I hadn’t already known I was gay, I sure would’ve figured it out just by looking at him.
He was huge, standing well over six feet tall, and covered in muscle. He looked to be older than me, but I couldn’t tell by how many years. His hair was long, much longer than I’d ever seen on a man, and its pale blonde strands were woven into a braid at his back.
His eyes were a misty blue shade, almost grey, framed by delicate blonde lashes. There was a white scar on the right side of his face; it looked like he’d been cut from his right temple to his cheek.
He gave a nod, snapping me back to reality. “Hello,” he said, his voice holding a light accent that I couldn’t place.
“Hey,” I replied breathily, my tone lifting without me meaning it to. “Welcome in. Do you know what you want, or do you need a minute?”
“I’ll just do a burger and fries. Or whatever’s easiest, I know you close soon,” he said quietly, almost as if we were conversing in a library. “And some water, please.”
“Burger, fries, and water,” I chimed. “Good choice.”
“Thanks, Colby,” he added with a smile, nodding at my name tag.
I blinked, hoping I wasn’t blushing.
I put in his order, and when I brought him his drink, he asked casually, “Do you work late a lot?”
“Pretty much every night,” I answered.
He nodded like he understood. “Well, Colby, since you must be an expert, which dessert should I order?”
“Oh, jeez. That’s hard,” I confessed. “My personal favorite is the chocolate pie, but there’s also brownies, vanilla ice cream, rhubarb pie, apple pie—which is my second favorite—lemon meringue pie, and sometimes we have stuff like cupcakes, but not tonight.”
He chuckled softly, “I’ll get the chocolate pie then, thank you.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll bring that out with the rest of your meal.”
He stayed relatively quiet the rest of the night, just watching a baseball game playing silently on the little TV in the corner, and thanked me each time I checked in.
The creepy guy in the booth eventually got up and left without a word, leaving two crumpled bills under his empty mug. I felt myself relax somewhat when the door closed behind him.
My shift wrapped up not long after. I bused the counters and wiped down the booths, my feet aching in my shoes, but feeling lighter than I had all day.
At the register, I found a twenty-dollar bill tucked beneath the blonde guy’s receipt.
I glanced out the window. He was already gone. I stared at the bill in awe, wanting to jump with joy. The tip alone was more than the actual meal had cost. I hoped he would come back soon so I could thank him.
I pocketed the cash and untied my apron, waving to Mae, who gave me a wink. “Get home safe, baby. I’ll see ya bright and early tomorrow.”
“I will. See you!” I promised, slipping out into the night air.
This time, the walk home was different. No footsteps but my own. No eyes boring into the back of my neck. Just quiet, calm roads.
I was crossing my fingers for a good night’s sleep.
4
Bodin
