Page 2 of Dragons & Dumplings
“He can drift right out of this diner and down to the bakery,” Pyra grumbled under her breath, igniting flames from her fingertips to give the outer layer of the dumplings a bit of crispiness. “He can buy all the bland, vanilla food he wants there.”
I laughed. “You think anything that doesn’t burn your tongue is bland, though.”
“Exactly! That’s the way foodshouldbe.” The fire sylph glanced at the ticket disdainfully. “But I suppose I’ll just have to whip up a boring, plain old plate for this fellow.”
“Thanks, Pyra.” I grinned as I turned to go check on my other tables.
“Make sure he at least gives you a good tip, Mei-Mei!” she called after me.
“Highly unlikely,” I grumbled to myself, but plastered my most winning smile back on my face.
It turned into a real smile as I approached Thorne and Clove, who were currently making eyes at each other across the table. I hoped I could find what they had someday.
“How is everything tasting? The food, I mean,” I added cheekily.
Clove blushed, but Thorne grinned right back. “Delicious—on both counts.”
“The dumplings are just as amazing as I’ve heard.” Clove’s blush deepened, and I could have sworn I heard her kick him lightly under the table. But Thorne’s expression never faltered. “I have a feeling we’ll be regulars from here on out.”
“I would love that! It’s always nice to see friendly faces—makes my job feel a lot less like work, and a lot more like a good time.” It also made the time go by that much quicker.
“Ahem! Waitress!” The icy bastard actually had the audacity to snap his fingers, as if I were some sort of dog he could summon on command, instead of a fire-breathing drake.
Clove frowned, and Thorne scowled over at the impatient man disapprovingly. “Need me to have a little chat with him about manners?”
“I appreciate the offer, but it’s alright. I’ll go see what he wants.” I heaved a sigh, accidentally exhaling a few sparks, which I quickly snuffed out on the stone floor.
Plastering on a tight smile, I returned to the newcomer’s booth. He was typing away on his laptop, and barely even glanced up when I arrived. I waited for a moment, but when he continued to ignore me, I gritted out, “How can I help you,sir?”
“Finally—I was starting to think you had forgotten you were at work entirely while chattering on and on with your friends.” He finally deigned to look up from his computer screen.
I was starting to thinkfrigiddragon would be a better descriptor for this dragon and his ilk.
Choosing not to respond to that, I repeated through clenched teeth, “Did you need assistance with something?”
His eyes returned to the glowing screen. “Yes. Where is my food? It’s been ages since I placed my order.”
I suppressed the urge to strangle this particular customer—just barely. “Since it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet, I imagine our chef is in the middle of preparing your meal. But I will go and check on that for you. Would you like a refill…?” I glanced over at his ice water to see it sitting completely untouched, condensation forming on the glass as the ice cubes melted. How odd. I would have expected an ice dragon to keep the ice from melting with his magic…unless of course, he couldn’t be bothered. Why would he, when he clearly got so much pleasure out of ordering me to fetch him things, instead? “Nevermind, it appears no refill is needed. I will be right back.”
Without waiting for a reply, I flipped my ruby-red braid over my shoulder and stalked back to the kitchen, my own pupils narrowing to angry slits. Once I was out of sight of the diners, I exhaled a whole load of sparks into the brick oven.
“That bad, eh?” Pyra asked drily.
“I’ve had worse.” I walked over to watch her work, feeling mildly better. “How’s that Surf & Turf coming along?”
“Nearly done. Why? Is the customer getting antsy already?” The flames flared before dying back down.
“Pretty much.” I rolled my eyes.
“Hang on a sec, and I’ll have it ready for you.” Pyra moved deftly, and quickly plated the perfectly cooked and barely seasoned steak and lobster with a tasteful flourish.
“Thanks, Pyra.” I took the plate from her, forming red scales on the palms of my hands so the heated ceramic wouldn’t burn my skin.
I marched over to Mr. Ice Cold and displayed the steaming meal.
“Finally.” He gestured to the other side of his computer, which I very obviously couldn’t reach, and said without looking up, “Just put it there.”
I felt my face turning red, and scales raced from my hands and up the rest of my arms as my temper flared. Why had he wanted his food so quickly if he was just going to ignore it while it grew cold?! I had half a mind to place it right onto his keyboard and see how well the plastic fared under the heat.
