Page 102 of DadBod

ELIZABETH

“I’m going to die.”

I don’t have to look behind me to know those words were uttered by Jeriann. “You’re not going to die.”

“Yes. I am. This place is a madhouse.”

She’s right. It’s the opening night of Hamilton, and we’ve been hit twice. Once before the show, and now that the show is over, there’s a second rush. “Think of the tips.”

“Fuck money,” my best friend growls.

God, she makes me laugh. “At least hostessing is going better.”

“Right?” Jeriann looks shocked. “Who-da-thought that Ryann would be a natural?”

Me.

“She’s way better than Gianna.”

“She is.” I’d love to praise her, but she wouldn’t appreciate it coming from me. I’ll be sure to ask Rome to do it, though.

“And Calvin.” Jeriann smiles. “He’s working his tail off.”

Calvin’s busing tables, getting drinks, and entertaining the tables that have been kept waiting too long. “I can see him taking over for Rome someday.” If he wants.

Speak of the devil, Ryann appears around the short wall of the beverage station. “You’ve both got new tables.”

“Thanks, Ry-Ry.”

The teen rolls her eyes at Jeriann and returns to the front of the restaurant.

“See you later.”

“Yep.”

* * *

The soundof breaking dishes draws my attention away from my new table to the door that leads into the kitchen. Turning, I see Calvin bent down, looking at a pile of broken dishes. When he reaches out to touch those broken dishes, I tell my table, “Be right back.” Racing over to him, I grasp his hand. “Calvin? Honey? Please don’t touch the broken glass. It’ll––” Just as I’m about to warn him about getting cut, a woman’s screeching voice takes over.

“That’s it!” Monica screams. “I’m sick and tired of trying to work with this fucking brat constantly in my way.”

Brat?

Calvin? He’s as far from a brat as anyone I’ve ever met.

That. Bitch.

Looking down at him, the first thing I notice is his lower lip quivering. “Calvin. It’s okay.”

“No,” Monica yells again. “It’s not okay.”

I take a second to look at the scene before me. Bending, I softly ask, “Calvin. Were you trying to take the dishes into the kitchen?”

He nods.

He was going through the “in” door.

“Did Monica come out this way?” I point at the door.

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