Page 6 of Kiss Me Ever After
She’d added some kind of green-faced emoji after the kisses, which I suspected was a mistake but was a pretty accurate reflection of how I felt. I forced myself into an upright position and quickly typed out a response.
Lennon: Sure, speak later xoxo
I added a smiley sticker as well.
As if on cue, the alarm kicked in again.
I couldn’t put it off any longer.
My career in waitressing called.
Forty minutes later, I arrived at the Blue Goose Cafe. There were already customers eating breakfast, and my stomach knotted. First day nerves mixed with the excesses of the previous evening. Swallowing hard, I opened the door and went in.
“Hey, Lennon.” Bryony Burton gave me a broad smile from the counter where she was stacking some plates which had just come out of the dishwasher. “Welcome.”
I forced a smile in return. “Morning.”
“You can leave your bag in the staff room. I’ve left a couple of polo shirts in there for you, along with an apron and a name badge.” She pointed me towards the back. “Then we can get started.”
The smell of a full English being cooked invaded my nostrils as I walked past the kitchen. I heaved, trying to hide it from Bryony. Throwing up on my first shift wouldn’t leave the best impression.
What had once been a greasy spoon, with surfaces covered in Formica, plastic booths and sticky floors, was now a vintage, beach-inspired, whitewashed dream. Decorated in eggshell and white, with bunting, chintzy crockery and pictures with inspiring quotes, it was perfect for the town’s tourist market. Rather than charging a couple of quid for a fatty bacon bap, the expected clientele would be prepared to pay a fortune for some smashed avo on toast.
The tiny staff area had a bank of half a dozen lockers, a couple of chairs and a handbasin with a mirror above it. There was such little space in there, it was obvious I wouldn’t be getting lots of breaks. One of the lockers was open, with the branded polos lying on the shelf. Quickly, I pulled off my t-shirt and replaced it with the new black top. It was snug across my breasts and I made a mental note to ask Bryony if she’d be able to get me a bigger one. On impulse, I pulled my newly bobbed blonde hair into a small ponytail at the nape of my neck.
Finally, tying the apron around my waist and shoving all my belongings into my locker, I shut the door and turned the key.
The reflection of Lennon Cole, the waitress, stared back at me in the mirror.
It was an image I wasn’t used to at all.
Bryony waited for me behind the counter. “Are you okay?” she asked, brows knotted together. “You were quite a while?”
“Just nervous,” I blustered. “Thank you so much for giving me this chance.” I forced a smile.
“We needed an extra pair of hands and you came along at just the right time.” Her own smile was encouraging.
While it was quiet, Bryony took the opportunity to remind me of the setup. She would do most of the front of house stuff, with my help. Her husband, Si, and a woman called June would share the cooking and baking between them. They were open for the breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea trade, not evenings and not Mondays or Tuesdays. Bryony explained it was an experiment, based on the other cafes and restaurants close by who were open longer hours, seven days a week.
“When there will only be four of us for a little while, we need to keep costs down. If things change and we can’t manage, we’ll consider taking on someone else or opening longer.” She shrugged. “We’re new to this as well.”
Several hours later, my head was about to explode. I was already looking forward to my Monday and Tuesday off. There’d been a steady stream of customers since I’d arrived. The constant turnover of clientele was incredible. Almost as soon as a table vacated, it was taken again. I’d delivered countless cups of coffee, cappuccino, latte, skinny, non-fat, lactose-free—mostly correctly—and managed the picky customers who wanted to swap out items on the breakfast menu. I’d always been on the other side when having brunch with friends but now had heaps of sympathy for the waitresses who had to deal with the awkward ones who ‘didn’t really like mushrooms’.
Around half past four, there was only one couple left. They’d ordered tea and cake. It was one of the simplest orders of the day, and I was eternally grateful. Once I’d delivered their order, Bryony pounced on me.
“Not bad for day one,” she said. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll let you take over the till.” She gave me a broad grin. “Give the empty tables a once over while they’re finishing up. We should be able to get away a little after five if we’re lucky.”
The day had raced by and I couldn’t believe it was almost over. I’d almost enjoyed myself. If every day was like this, the summer would fly by and I’d forget I should be somewhere else. I hummed quietly as I wiped off the surfaces and swept up. My feet were killing me, and I was looking forward to getting home and soaking them in Granny’s foot spa.
My gaze fell onto someone standing outside. With dark hair and brooding dark eyes, the guy looked familiar, although I couldn’t immediately place him. He was looking through the big front window, seemingly staring straight at me. The weight of his glare fell heavily on me, and I shivered under his scrutiny.
Justin Navarro.
Memories of previous summers lurched into my head.
Particularly last year’s near miss.
My skin prickled, goose bumps forming.
