Page 27 of Hawke

This man had gotten under my skin, but it didn’t scare me. I was determined to figure this jerk face out. The other servers were glad about that, because they wanted nothing to do with him.

“Delilah, your order’s up.” Charlie gave an apologetic smile and rested his hands on the counter. I made it a point to have Colonel Sanders’s meal ready for him the moment he walked through the door, since it was the same order every day. “I made it just like you wrote it. Hope it works out.” He shook his head. “But knowing him–”

“Hey.” I held my hand out. “He’s just being a jerk face. Give me that can of whipped cream over there.” I pointed to the stainless steel whipped cream dispenser. Charlie eyed me curiously and slowly handed it over.

My hands were clean, so I rearranged his pancakes, stacking one on top of the other. I took two of the eggs and placed them on top of the pancake, one beside another, and used the bacon to make a smiling face, and then took the whipped cream and went to town.

Charlie was astonished, his eyes widening as he instinctively brought his fist to his lips in an attempt to hold back his laughter. “What the hell, Delilah? You are going to get reamed for this.”

I giggled, finishing my masterpiece, and handed back the whipped cream. “Ah, it will be worth it.” I placed the food on my tray and strutted over to Colonel Sanders’s table. I smiled wildly, and he rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, ready for his food to be delivered.

“Here is your usual, three pancakes, side of two sunny side up eggs, bacon, and something a little extra for you today…” I sat the plate down, and he stared at the fluffy whipped cream for hair, the handlebar mustache, and bacon smile.

The vertically cut strawberry was a nice touch because it resembled his large alcoholic nose.

Instead of getting yelled at, he barked out a laugh so loud the entire restaurant drew to a standstill. Forks clinked on plates. The customers all stared in our direction at the noise in the corner and my flushed-red face.

I’d been bold back at the Iron Fang, but being so in a ritzier place like The Atlas was probably not wise. Yet, I waited for him to yell at me.

“Did you come up with this yourself or was it that lousy cook?” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his tears.

“I did it, sir,” I said warily. If he was going to get someone fired, it should be me since I started this mess.

The manager, Simon, walked up to both of us, dread in his face as he stared down at the slowly disintegrating whipped cream and the eggs running down the pancakes.

“What’s the meaning of this?” The manager hissed, grabbing my arm. “You are to respect our customers and look what you have–”

“That’s enough,” Colonel Sanders barked, eyeing the tight grip on my arm. “That was the best laugh I’ve had in a while. She’s got some spunk. I like that. I want her every day from now on.”

The manager let go of my arm, his eyes flip-flopping from the old man to me. “A-are you sure? This isn’t the normal behavior our waitstaff has–”

“It’s a damn shame, then. She’s worked hard all week to get me to crack a smile and succeeded.” He winked at me.

Colonel Sanders acknowledged me with a nod and doused his pancakes in syrup, not fazed by the sticky mess he was making in his eggs and fruit. “It is weird. She’s the first one that hasn’t been afraid of me. Strange that one.” He pointed to me. “She hasn’t shaken my coffee while pouring it, and she smiles like the devil is after her. That’s my kind of woman.”

Simon nodded, side eyeing the man, and walked off. He gave me one last look as he backed away, his eyes lingering on me.

“You got some fire in you.” Colonel Sanders pointed his fork at me and to the chair across from him. I obeyed and made my way to the unoccupied seat, somewhat dazed.

Normally, I’ll get a smile from a grumpy customer, but then that was that. I left them alone. I didn’t have a full-blown conversation.

“Now, what is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” The epic mustache man began sawing his pancakes into pieces, the sound of his knife scraping against the plate filling the air between us.

I gazed around the room. The white tablecloths, the expensive furniture, and the highly decorated brunch tables had me confused. This was a good job, one that had fallen into my lap easily. I’d say I was lucky to have it.

“I don’t know if I understand what you are saying?” I asked. “This is more upscale than my last job.” I tilted my head.

The old man patted his mouth, dabbing syrup from his mustache. “What I mean to say was, why are you here? This is a stuffy restaurant, the servers are nothing but spit shined pieces of shit. Everyone hates their job, but you make it your mission to make me, the bastard everyone hates, laugh.”

I blinked, stunned.

“I’m here for a job, to make eating out enjoyable. I don’t like to see people sad or upset.” I sat on my hands to keep myself from fidgeting.

I felt like he could see right through me, which made me uneasy. I didn’t get any warning flags from my gut to run away from him, so I stayed.

He hummed disapprovingly. “So, you make everyone else happy while you hide behind that smile, eh?”

My wandering eyes jerked back to him.

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