Page 5 of The Nanny and the Nerd
Luckily, like a tidal wave to the brain, or maybe it was the excessive boob sweat, an idea washed over her. Do a good job today, then talk to Marshall after the lunch rush winds down.
She mustered up puppy-dog eyes. “Can I at least work my shift? I need the money, Marshall. My car is barely running, my laptop just flashed the blue screen of death, and I’ve got rent and student loans to pay, and—”
“Fine!” the man said, cutting her off. “Work your shift. But I’m sorry, Penny. This is your last day. My ass is on the line, too.”
Okay! She was in! Score one for Team Penelope!
“Thank you!” she shrieked, then plucked an apron off of a wall hook and quickly pinned her name tag to the front of it.
Marshall narrowed his gaze as his forehead vein made another appearance. “But if you make one mistake today, I’m pulling you off the floor, and I’m sending you home.”
She saluted the man, then grabbed her order pad from the counter and sailed out into the dining area. She spied Charlotte, then checked for Marshall. He hadn’t followed her out. Good! She had a second to check in with her friend.
“Marshall didn’t fire you?” Charlotte asked. Hopefulness glittered in her friend’s eyes as she brushed an auburn curl from her cheek.
Penny scanned the room. They were still in the clear. “No, he did fire me, but he’s letting me work this shift.”
Charlotte’s expression crumpled. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, Penn. Things got busy fast, and by the way, that lady is back in your section. She keeps asking for you.”
Penny had totally forgotten about the lady—which was quite a feat because the woman was unforgettable. She had an air of mystery about her. With tumbling dark locks and a lone silver streak winding through the maze of curls, the attractive older woman showed up a few weeks ago, then kept coming backandkept requesting to sit in her section. The lady always paid with cash and ordered the same thing—a martini with two olives and the truffle risotto. Mitch Elliott took it off the menu weeks ago. But he still made it for her—which was another odd occurrence because Mitch was a giant prick on a good day. She had no idea why the guy would go out of his way for this woman.
Penny searched the dining area and found her regular sipping a martini and wearing her trademark scarlet-red silk scarf. “You’re right! Doesn’t she look like she just got off a private jet from Milan? Like she’s here to pass along a secret message to an undercover agent?”
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a description, Miss Soon-To-Be Famous Author. I was going to say the fancy old lady who orders a martini, then watches you like a hawk. Maybe she’s got a thing for leggy, broke blondes. This could be the end of your money problems.”
“What do you mean by that?” Penny tossed back.
“She could be your sugar mama. I could be the photographer at your wedding,” Charlotte purred as the woman looked ready to break out into giggles.
“Charlotte!” Penny chided, playfully swatting her friend’s arm.
“Well, we’re both about as unlucky in love as we can get. I haven’t dated a decent guy in ages. It might be time to switch teams,” Charlotte suggested with a sigh.
“Char!” she whisper-shouted, doling out another swat when guess who appeared.
“Ladies!” Marshall hissed, ready to explode.
Did that pulsating vein in his head ever go away?
Charlotte cleared her throat. “I’m getting Penny up to speed on what’s going on in her section.”
“Make it quick! We’ve got a forty-five-minute waitlist. We need to get these tables turned over!” the man snarled.
“Okay, Penn,” Charlotte began, lowering her voice so the manager couldn’t hear them. “You’ve got your Ms. Hot Senior Citizen at table seven, and then there’s table four with a mother and daughter. The mother is—” Her friend made a gag-me-with-a-spoon face.
And that meant something! Charlotte was the sweetest person she knew!
Penny nodded, getting the message loud and clear. The mother was the real b-word—a giant, raging b-word. Good to know. The Crystal Creek neighborhood was one of the wealthiest areas in Denver. And while most of their customers were great and left generous tips, there were always a few uppity asshats sprinkled in.
“Now go waitress your ass off, sister! Marshall’s vein is ready to burst,” Charlotte said under her breath as she threw the manager an electric grin, then headed to check on her tables.
Penny followed suit and hightailed it to her section. She made eye contact with her woman of intrigue. “I’ll be right over to take your order.”
The femme fatale nodded. Okay, that might be pushing it. The regular Crystal Cricket diner was probably some exquisitely dressed senior citizen who liked risotto. Still, this is how she made waitressing interesting. She’d concoct little stories in her head about the different diners. From spies to members of dangerous cartels, she’d transform the humdrum into characters worthy of literary acclaim.
She was ready to make up a story about the couple currently shooting eye-daggers at each other when a woman yelped.
“Miss! Miss! Do you see this? What are you going to do about it? There’s milk all over the table!” the b from table four squawked as the little girl sitting across from her began to cry.
