Page 1 of Real Fake Husband

JOSIE

MONDAY NIGHT INSIDE A COZY MOM-AND-POP DINER IN QUEENS

Sometime after 7:00 p.m.

“Comecloser, baby doll.” I hear the prick sneer at Kaylin a few tables down.

I’m not planning on a confrontation. But the second I notice that jack-off reach out to touch my bestie, I see red.

He doesn’t even try to hide what he’s doing. When she leans across the table to pick up his plates, he grabs her ass and squeezes. Hard. I watch her jump back in surprise. Wide-eyed, she surveys the diner through her glasses, and she finds my furious gaze the moment I make a beeline for the table.

“What’s the matter, sugar?” the man asks with a wide smirk. It’s apparent he’s already figured her out, aware he’s taken her by surprise and making her flustered.

“S-Sir, you can’t…”

“I’m sorry—what was that?” he huffs. “Can you speak up? Can’t what?”

By now, I’m fuming.

I don’t care what anyone says: The customer isnotalways right.

Approaching the table, I stand by Kaylin’s side, and the words fly out of my mouth without a second thought. “Hey,prick. You can’t grope the waitresses. It’s not that kind of diner.”

He gives me the once-over, and I notice his lip curl.

See, I’m not like Kaylin. She’s tall, thin, with a neat brunette side-braid, and big blue eyes—that are currently staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights of a moving vehicle. I’m the opposite of her. I’m short, curvy, brown-eyed with wavy blonde hair, hastily thrown up in a messy bun, sporting flyaways, and immune to all the hair masks I slather on.

Kaylin is my bestie, a few years younger than me, and she’s a sweet girl. The sweetest you’ll ever meet. When we had an opening at the diner, I immediately gave Matilda her resume.

Tonight, she’s done a great job of holding her own so far. The man she’s serving is an asshat who thinks he’s special because he wears a suit and works in an office rather than waiting tables. There are also three half-started beer bottles next to his half-eaten dinner: a club sandwich with fries. Kaylin has taken every stupid demand (as in, the beer was too cold or too foamy) and backhanded compliment (as in, she is looking “surprisingly good” tonight, “despite her glasses”) he’s thrown at her with a smile he thinks is seductive, and seemingly polite words. With every complaint, with every comment, he’s tested his limits with Kaylin and now acts like his groping is a godsend.

But enough is enough.

“Out.Now,” I add in a calm, yet firm and even tone.

“Just what are you accusing me of?” he sneers.

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you touch her.” I’ve been on my feet for hours after working a double yesterday. No matter how much I love my job, anyone in my position would be exhausted. This man has already tested what little patience I have left.

“I did no such thing.” He has the nerve to appear aghast. “She just leaned over, and my hand just happened to be there.”

Wow, he must think I’m an idiot. “Your hand just happened to be level with her backside and making a grabbing motion?”

“Is it acrimeto have my hand resting at my side?”

“No, but it’s a crime to touch someone without their consent.”

By now, I’ve put Kaylin behind me, and I’m glaring daggers at this man. He really chose the wrong night to come in here acting like a lech. Matilda’s already gone, which means she’s left me in charge. I’m the most senior employee and the diner’s supervisor. Which gives me the authority to handle things how I see fit.

The man leans back, full-on glaring at me. I think it’s meant to be an intimidation tactic, but little does he know how much it’snotworking.

Please give me attitude, I think. I’ll snap somebody’s ass.

“You know, I don’t like the way you’re speaking to me, and I demand to speak to your supervisor,” he says, having the audacity to wave me off. “Fetch him for me.”

Oh, yes, the old “supervisor” trick.

I can’t wait to see his face.

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