“Yeah, no problem.” Ducking out of the kitchen, I released my ring to grab my pad and pen as Kayla pulled her order from the racks. The River didn’t have party rooms so people could have intimate dinners for celebrations, but it did have outdoor seating, and I shook my head to gather myself before heading out the open, double doors. “Welcome to The River. My name’s Nicole. Can I start you off with something to drink tonight?”
“That’d be perfect! It’s your birthday, Bailey, you go first.” I glanced up, pen poised, and paused as a familiar, handsome face flooded my field of vision. Surprise rose my brows, but I couldn’t even begin to think of it before the woman in question spoke up. Blue eyes flashed in recognition before a feminine voice stole my attention, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose and pursed my lips in concentration.
Shorthanding all the drink orders, I found myself gazing steadily at the man who'd helped me down the mountain the night of my sister’s wedding. He wore a cut-off leather jacket, with worn patches, that looked like a second skin over his plain, gray t-shirt. He ordered a Sprite, but I felt more than heard his deep voice under the blood drumming in my ears. Nodding as I scribbled it down, I repeated my mantra before walking off back into the restaurant.
You’re at work. Nothing can faze you, you’re working. Absolutely nothing.
I worked on autopilot as I got their drinks ready, my mind wandering back to a week and a half ago. What was his name? I don’t think I ever got it. I swore I saw the name ‘Bruiser’ on his leather jacket, though. Frowning lightly as I popped the top off a beer bottle, I set it on the bar to shake my head and clear my thoughts. Placing the margarita orders with the bartender, I hiked my drink tray up to walk briskly back to the patio. I didn’t have many tables, and the dinner rush hadn’t slammed us yet, and my heart flipped when I saw that guy sitting, staring at the menu under tightly knit brows.
“Would you like to order any appetizers, or do you need some more time?” I scanned the table relentlessly. There were two women, but the other five were men, and they were all wearing the same name on their jackets, or maybe it wasn’t a name, maybe it’s a club of some sort? It read ‘Warpath MC’. I knew I’d seen people like this in my travels. As a kid, my parents constantly had my sister and me on cross country road trips. Going down the interstate, we were always bound to see people like them, with their matching jackets.
“We’ll take two of the tasters. Can we have all the different options between them?” I nodded, scribbling down the request before running through all the options. The River, true to its name, had a lot of seafood options, and I was pleasantly surprised that the group picked rather quickly. It’s gonna be a long Friday night. This is a nice way to start it, at least.
“I’ll put that in and be right back with the rest of your drinks.” I closed my pad and turned to walk before a clearing of a throat caught my attention, and my gaze automatically found the man from the gas station.
“Sorry, could I tack on a third taster with sizzler steak fajitas?” Nodding, I flipped open my pad again to scribble it down, and intense eyes bored into my back before I disappeared behind the wall. Reaching to rub my head, my palms tingled, and my cheeks warmed as I stared down at my pad.
Stopping by the register nearest to the bar, I put in my ticket and paused on the steak fajitas. Gnawing in my inner lip, the cogs turned in my mind, and I tapped the ‘chicken’ option before sending the ticket to the kitchen.
“Nicole, here’s your ‘ritas.” I smiled secretly to myself. I owed that guy because I’d probably still be on that mountain, four hundred miles from home, without him. It was the least I could do. Grabbing my drinks off the bar, I headed back out to drop them off before my pager beeped from the hostess podium.
Procedure took over my individual thoughts, and I scurried between my filled tables as people started to flood in for the dinner rush. Checking the time on my phone as I waited for the drink station to empty, I frowned lightly at how early it was. “It’s gonna be a long night, but I need a bigger paycheck.”
My commissions didn’t make as much money as I’d expected this month, but it’d all be worth it in the end. Flexing my fingers, I wished I had a paint brush in my palm instead of a serving tray, but waitressing was only temporary. It was merely a means to an end. I’m going to be a successful artist, come hell or high water, and I won’t stand by and let negative thoughts or doubts keep me from my dreams.
That’s right! All I had to do was stick it out for a few more months, three years, maybe, and I’d flip the tables. My following was growing, and my online store was gaining traction. It was just a waiting game, now. One day, my paintings would be at the Louvre, or maybe even the Museum of Modern Art!
“Or, at the very least, a super popular online forum.” Muttering to myself, I smiled broadly as determination burrowed deep in my gut. The line cook called my ticket number, and I carefully placed the three large starter plates on a platter.
“Here you go. Are you ready to order your mains, or would you like some more time?” Scanning the group after I set down the apps,
