Queen POV
I sniffed my sleeve and grimaced. The smell of burnt bacon and grease had seeped so far into my clothes that I was starting to think it was permanent. By the middle of my shift at the diner, I was convinced if someone cut me open, I'd bleed the rich brown of maple syrup.
"Queen! Table six needs a refill!"
I didn't turn around. "They just got one," I said flatly.
"Well now they need another!"
Of course they did. Exhaling slowly through my nose, I grabbed the nearest coffee pot like it had personally offended me and began weaving through the tables. The diner buzzed around me with the sound of forks scraping, loud laughter, and the low hum of country music from the jukebox. The late-night crowd had just started to thin and die down. Which meant less work, more time for people to get comfortable and more time for my feet to get a break. Unless truckers were stopping by, overindulging themselves on coffee.
I plastered a smile on my face as I stopped at the table, giving the two truckers their third cup of coffee in the 40 minutes they'd been here. I could understand the need, but jeez, slow down a little. I acknowledged their gruff thank yous and made my rounds to each of my tables, if only to keep from being called back again too soon.
I refilled the cups, nodded through a complaint I didn't care about, and made a beeline to the counter. Once there, I placed the nearly empty coffee pot down and plopped myself onto a stool. A small sigh of relief escaped my lips as I leaned down and massaged my aching feet. I looked around the diner as I did so, and my gaze stopped abruptly. There was a man I hadn't seen before sitting alone in a corner booth. I usually didn't work Thursday shifts and was covering for Lily, but I'm sure I've never seen this man. I sure would've noticed a GQ model.
I knew I was staring, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He sat still, too still in a place that never stopped moving. His cowboy hat was tipped low and the dark t-shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, his muscles straining against the fabric. He held today's paper in his hand, strong olive-toned fingers holding the pages upright. If I squinted, I could make out bold letters tattooed across each one of them. My gaze made its way up one tattooed forearm, black ink swirled across toned biceps and into the sleeves of the shirt. My eyes drifted over to his other tattooed arm, a mirror to the first. That arm was draped across the back of the booth like he had nowhere else to be and all the time in the world. Calm, too calm. And very, very sexy.
As if he could feel my eyes on him, his head began to raise from the paper, and I quickly snapped my gaze away, probably giving myself whiplash.
"Girl, who you lookin' at?" Jessica slid up beside me with a cheesy grin, already knowing.
"Nobody," I said quickly, fixing a stack of napkins that were already sitting in a neat pile in front of me.
"Mhm." She leaned over me just enough to peek.
"Corner booth?" I didn't answer and swallowed thickly, embarrassed at having been caught. Was I really that obvious?
She laughed. "Oh yeah, he's fine."
"I didn't say all that."
"You didn't have to." She nudged me. "Go say something."
"I'm working."
"You been working all day. That don't stop you from talking."
I rolled my eyes, but I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. "I'm not about to go bother that man while he's eating."
"Uh huh. You just gonna keep sneaking looks then?"
"I am not—"
"Hey baby girl, you gonna keep ignoring me all night?" There it was. Right on time. I closed my eyes for half a second before turning around.
Manny.
He and the twins, Chris and Derrick, entered the diner with clearly drunk expressions on their faces. They sat down in the same booth as always, snatching up the menus as if they didn't know what was on them. The twins were very tall with freckled cheeks and red hair. They were pretty alright-looking but had a dopey look about them. Manny himself wasn't unattractive. He had dark blonde hair and blue eyes that didn't look bad on his round face. However, he was a drunk and rude and did not take no for an answer.
"What do you want, Manny?" I asked, keeping my tone flat.
He grinned slowly and lazily. "Damn love, you don't even say hello no more?"
"I did that the first fifty times." His friends laughed as I reluctantly grabbed the coffee pot. I shot Jessica a quick look, and she shot me one of pity before heading to the back. I heaved a sigh and walked over to the table.
As I approached, Manny leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, eyes dragging over me in a way that made my stomach turn with disgust.
"What do you want?" I repeated again, gripping the coffee pot tightly.
"I want..." he paused for a beat, "you."
I didn't even blink. "Not on the menu."
"Ain't gotta be," he said, voice dropping. "I'll make a special order."
I shook the coffee pot. "You want coffee, or you want me to walk away?"
He tilted his head, studying me. "Why you always act like that? All stuck up, like you don't like the attention."
A hot flare of anger brushed against my ribs, but I took a deep breath to squash it. I really needed this job, and I didn't want to lose it from dumping a hot pot of coffee on this loser. My nephew needed my support, and I couldn't just throw all the progress I've made out the window by losing my only income.
"Coffee," I repeated, holding the pot steady. "Or I walk."
For a second, neither of us moved. Then he leaned back and looked at his friends with a chuckle. "Yeah, a'ight."
I rolled my eyes and turned to leave when his fingers brushed against my ass. It was light and quick, but definitely intentional. My whole body went rigid. I spun around, eyes locking onto his.
"Don't fucking touch me." The table went quiet.
Manny raised his hands like I was overreacting, but I could tell he was testing me.
"Relax, sweetheart," he said. "Ain't nobody tryna hurt you."
"I ain't your sweetheart, keep your freaking hands to yourself."
For a second, I thought he might push it further. But instead, he leaned back again, smirking.
"Feisty, I like it." He slowly dragged his tongue across his lips, looking me up and down. He most likely thought he was being sexy, but it made me want to vomit. Bile rose in my throat, and I quickly swallowed it.
I turned away before I did something I would regret. His behavior was getting worse. I don't know how he knew I was working tonight, but he always seemed to know my schedule. It was as if he made it his mission to sexually harass me with odd comments and unwanted touches. I turned him down plenty of times, but he was persistent. Creepy and persistent.
I made my way back to the counter, putting the coffee pot down with a loud clink. I grabbed a rag and wiped down the counter, trying to shake the feeling crawling under my skin. Should I report him to the police? Nah, that was doing the most. Plus, my pride wouldn't let me because that would let him know that he got to me. I wasn't afraid of his creepy ass, and those self-defense classes I took back home in New York would be used if he tried some slick shit again. I dropped the rag and slumped onto the bar stool. I surveyed the bar again to see who was left, and my breath hitched as I unexpectedly met the eyes of the corner booth cowboy. Bright blue eyes were stuck on mine. It wasn't a hungry or lustful stare like Manny's, and it made my cheeks flush. I looked away first.
---------------------------------------------------------
Another hour passed. The diner slowed to a near crawl with just a few lingering tables. The hum of the fridge was louder now that the noise had faded.
"Last call, folks!" Ryan, the cook, called from the kitchen. Jessica and I sat at the counter, each sipping coffee as we discussed our plans for the weekend.
"I'm telling you, this new club is lit. My friend Ana went last weekend, and she didn't leave until closing. You know Ana doesn't stay past 12 for anything."
This was Jessica's third attempt this week to convince me to go out with her, but I couldn't.
"I don't have a babysitter for the weekend, and I need to make sure that Demi will be okay. Plus, the social worker is supposed to stop by Saturday afternoon."
Jessica heaved a sigh. "Girllllll, you never go out! You're going to waste your twenties away being a worry wart. Just ask your mom to watch him. And you don't need to stay the whole night, I'm sure you'll be up in time for that meeting."
It wasn't like I didn't think about going out every once in a while. But the adoption was finalizing, and the last thing I needed was to give the uptight worker, Ms. Maribel, another reason not to give Demi to me. He was my brother's child, and I refused to let him be taken into the system.
"My mom has her own things going on, which is why I took Demi in the first place. I'm not making a 64-year-old woman chase behind a hyperactive 5-year-old".
Jessica shook her head and began untying her apron with a long sigh. "At least check with that girl you use before saying no. I'm about to head out."
"Must be nice," I muttered, following her behind the counter where she grabbed her things.
"Girl, I've been here since eight this morning," she said, sliding her arms into her coat and grabbing her purse.
"I've been here since six."
"And whose fault is that?" She said, putting her hands on her hips.
I rolled my eyes. "You know I couldn't say no to Lily. The girl looks like she's going to pop any day now." Lily was about 8 months pregnant and had asked me to cover her shift for the day The poor girl had been having pains, and I felt a bit bad for her. I also didn't mind covering since I could use the money.
"Queen you are too nice, someone else could have covered her." Jessica then glanced toward Manny's table, her expression tightening slightly. "You gonna be okay?"
"I ain't scared of them, just inconvenienced." I scoffed.
She nodded, looking back at me. "Text me when you get home."
"I will."
"And let me know about tomorrow night, ask that babysitter of yours." She said, pointing a finger in my direction as she passed me, walking to the back door.
"Yeah, yeah, I will. "
Jessica opened the door and paused to look at me over her shoulder. "Lock up good."
"I always do." I said.
The bell jingled as she left. And just like that, it was quiet. I exhaled a long breath and made my way back to the front. I began busying myself to hurry through the last hour. The cooks began leaving, and I waved goodbye with a wry smile, trying not to think about how I wanted to be leaving too.
