Instead of finding my career, I’d found Lena.
She was the woman who would come in every Friday night, dressed like she had walked off the set of a high society photo shoot. Her hair was perfectly waved, resting on her petite shoulders, the ends touching the top of her chest. Her dresses were always seamless, molding to her body like they had been tailored just for her.
After the first few times I’d seen her, I noticed she would always dine with the same man. He was the complete opposite of the man I was. Where he wore expensive suits, I wore black serving aprons. Where he had perfectly styled blond hair, mine was a deep shade of brown, my long unruly hair tied back.
The amount of money he had was evident in the way he walked. He’d tip his chin up as he entered the dining room like he knew he was better than anyone else at the restaurant.
Despite the hours I’d work and the number of tables I would serve, I’d spend my time staring at Lena. She never expressed the same interest the man had. He was always animated in his movements. Lena was always stiff and quiet. Her shoulders and back rigid. I’d watch as she would reluctantly lift her wine glass to her mouth, glancing around the dining room for a way out. Her eyes were sad, forever locked in a cage.
After some time, my examinations of Lena and Julian grew bolder. I’d find any reason to work closer to her table, offering to relieve the other servers so I could bring out their food, just to catch a snippet of their conversations. It didn’t take me long to learn they both studied art. Both went to Brown University, steps above the college I attended. She was out of my league and I knew it.
Julian never caught on to me studying him, but after the first few times, Lena had.
At first, she would watch me with her eyes, never turning her head in my direction. I could feel her eyes following me and burning into my back, reaching for an answer to why I was more present the more she came into the restaurant. She didn’t speak to me until one night when I was leaving work after the restaurant had closed.
I found her standing by the front door, leaning against the brick wall. I stopped, staring at Lena. She looked different than all the other times I had seen her. She was wearing high-waisted tight light washed jeans, hugging her curves. A small black tank top was tucked into her jeans, three buttons dipping between her breasts.
She pushed off the wall, walking toward me. She stopped two feet in front of me. “Why do you always watch me?”, she asked.
Her arms were crossed over her chest and her skin was glistening under the yellow lamp posted above the restaurant door.
I opened my mouth, stunned she was standing in front of me. Stunned she was asking me such a bold question. It was the first time I had heard her speak. Her voice sent a shockwave through me, jolting me.
I’d looked around, checking if she was with the same man I’d always seen her come into the restaurant with. She was alone.
My eyes found hers. “Because I see you.”
Her eyebrows pulled together, her mouth twisting in thought. She didn’t move, she didn’t answer me. I stepped closer, bringing the space between us down to one foot. She tipped her chin higher, refusing to break her stare.
“No, you don’t,” she said. “No one sees me.”
“I do. I see it in your eyes.”
“What do you see in my eyes?”
“I see that you’re living a life you don’t want. A life you don’t deserve.”
She stepped back, walking backward until her foot reached the curb. She stopped and unraveled her arms, her eyes softening. “You don’t know what I deserve and what I don’t.”
Then, she turned around and disappeared into the dark.
That night was the first night of many. Slowly, over time, she started showing up to the restaurant every night after closing. I could tell that for her, I was an escape. I was the only one she felt she could bear her soul to, without judgment.
I’m thinking back to the night Lena and I met as we sit out on the back patio, the warm sun bearing down on us. Lena’s eyes light up as she stares at her phone. It’s a similar light to the kind I had seen on her that night outside Bar Americano.
“Okay.” I sigh, pulling up the security app. The contractor who works for the security company just finished installing our cameras and I’m showing Lena how to operate the app.
“So, if you press this button, it’ll bring up the main camera located over our front door. See?” I hold her phone out to her, showing her how it’s recording in real time.
“How do you see the other cameras? How many did you say there were?” She pulls in her bottom lip, tucking it underneath her teeth.
“There are three outside and four inside. The outside ones are over the front and back doors and one is over the garage.”
“Okay.” I can feel Lena’s body relax. We’re sitting on our back patio. She’s sitting in my lap, her arm draped across my shoulders.
I show her the rest of the app and how to switch between cameras. I already felt more secure than I had ever felt inside our house. There was no way Julian could try to break in undetected.
Lena sets her phone down on her lap and rests her free hand on my cheek. The stubble lining my jaw grates against her soft skin. “Thank you for installing these,” she whispers. “I feel a lot safer.”
I stare into her eyes, getting lost in them. I think back to that night she surprised me outside Bar Americano. It was the first time I had heard her speak, her voice filtering over me
