Page 17 of Falling Backwards
I’ve been happy there ever since.
The shifts can get crazy every now and then, like yesterday’s did, but I still love it.I love the vibe and I get along with my coworkers (though Luke is Luke and the assistant manager isn’t one of my favorite people).I love the romantic interior, which offsets light colors and graceful fixtures with dark rustic wood walls and exposed ceiling beams.And more than anything, I’m thankful to get to spend time in a place that was so big to me and my parents; welcoming other people into it delights me.
So today I replace my fun outfit with black pants and a black blouse with fluttery elbow-length sleeves, and I trade my cutesy jewelry for my late grandma’s pearls, and I tug my hair up into a nice ponytail, and I go in good spirits.
Someone who is not in good spirits is Cristiano, I soon find.
He’s a server, but he must not be on the clock right now; I come across him talking on his phone outside the entrance to the restaurant.I assume the person he’s having a heated argument with is his girlfriend.I’ve overheard him talking about their problems to a few of our coworkers.
He looks at me as I go past, and I give him a sympathetic smile.
A grateful wave is all he manages before he groans into the phone, “For the last time,I didn’t go through your damn text messages.” After a second, he scoffs.“No, actually, you know what?I’m starting to think you’re projecting somethingyou’redoing ontome.”
Bleh.What a frustrating situation to be in.
In its own way, so is me walking into the building and looking to the right, where the bar area is—I notice a familiar head of slightly curly raven hair attached to a body facing the many shelves of spirits.Luke is also on the clock.
It isn’t often that we can work overlapping hours and not step on each other’s toes somehow.Hopefully this shift will at least pass without me sustaining another injury.
But Iamthankful I can count on him not to do what that guy at Mellow Burger did and…what did Emma say?Surprise me with a‘snatchy fucking handshake’?
I smile about her silliness a beat before I shudder at the memory of him grabbing my hand.
The most frustrating thing I can think of at this moment might be that he’s made me doubt whether those spicy fries are worth future uncomfortable visits.
Oh, life and your difficult choices….
—
Of course.
Of.Course.
As I summon a smile for the couple approaching my sprawling hostess stand at the front of the house, I try not to let it show that my stomach has kind of started sinking.You know how people say,‘Third time’s the charm!’about having success with something?Well, I guess today it’s,‘Third guy’s the charm!’for me—my internal voice is about to find success at groaning herself hoarse over the opposite sex.
First there was that encounter with the guy at Mellow Burger.Then not ten minutes into my shift, Luke was using the intra-restaurant phone system to call me from the bar and make fun of how a chunk of my hair didn’t make it into the back of my ponytail; apparently, he noticed while I was seating someone over there.And now my ex has just walked in with a new girl on his arm.
A very beautiful girl who is different from me in some pretty apparent ways.
This is the first time Marcus and I have crossed paths since our breakup.It feels even more awkward to me than I thought an encounter like this would, considering he’s not alone…and that this girl is a shining star on two feet.She’s sweetly blonde.Her slim form looks way smoother in that tight white sweater dress than my softer one would, making her a flawless complement to how he has that lean-and-trendy thing going on.Her smile is dazzling as she greets me, but not because we’ve met before and she’s happy to see me; her friendliness seems natural, like Joy’s.
Ouch,is radiating through me.
But I don’t have time to dwell on any of it.I’m at work, and it’s important to me that I remain professional.
I can be amicable in the face of this.After all, ithasbeen a month since Marcus left me.
I catch his eye and get ready to show some grace, but he lifts his chin and speaks before I can.“Hello, ma’am.Can we get a table for two, please?”
Oh.
Well…oh.
‘Ma’am,’he said.Are we pretending we don’t know each other?
His date doesn’t seem to think there’s anything off about his tone, and I have to agree.It’s steady, just like his smile.Only his eyes betray a hint of the truth that he does know me, and knew before now that I work here, and was sleeping with me and exchanging lighthearted words of affection with me for several months, and has even stood in that very spot before when bringing me food on my long breaks.
Yeah, he wants to treat me like a stranger.
