| |
A few days later, Tuesday, I entered Clover’s at three o’clock. I’d been at school for the morning—two classes and then some time in the library. I usually didn’t mind working a full dinner shift on my school days because I’d been sitting for most of the morning, but that day I hadn’t been able to shake a headache since waking up.
“Hope you’ve got your game face on,” Robin said as soon as she saw me.
I gave her a pitiful “not feeling up to it” face.
“Buck up, sister. Table ten has been waiting for you for almost two hours.”
“What?” I peeked out from the kitchen as I tied my apron behind my back. It was those four guys again, the ones from a few weeks ago that I’d bribed with free drinks.
“At least the frat boys are returning customers now,” Robin grinned.
“What do you mean they’ve been waiting for me for two hours?”
“They got here just after one, asked if you were here, and I said you usually didn’t get here until three on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“And they just waited?”
“Yep. I mean they’ve had appetizers and drinks, but they said they’d wait to order. They’ve been waiting for you.”
I wasn’t sure what to think. I mean, it wasn’t that I hadn’t had a “fan” or two since I’d worked at the diner, but maybe I was a little overwhelmed by the four of them together.
“Nova, this could be a good thing, honey,” Robin tried to assure me. “You can’t expect that they’ll leave an enormous tip every time, but who knows, right? Think about your future, your education.”
She smiled at her ploy to play the right notes with me, and I had to laugh. But no matter the customer, I still had a job to do, so I took a deep breath and clocked in.
“So, is this going to be a regular thing, fellas?” I asked lightly as I approached table ten. “You’re taking valuable work experience away from my co-workers just to pester me?”
“You’re calling us pests?” asked Brock, still the big mouth. “Where’s your manager?” he asked, looking around the room. “I’d like to file a formal complaint.”
“I don’t think it would do much good being that you’ve been here waiting for me for...two hours?”
“We wait for our favorite waitress and you’re going to hold it against us? I’m hurt,” he pouted, sticking out his lower lip.
“Yeah, so anyway...what can I get for you guys?”
“Actually, we’d like for you to settle a bet for us first, and then we’ll order.”
I raised an eyebrow, not liking the sound of that at all.
“Just a simple question,” he added.
“Fine, one question.”
He glanced at the other guys before he asked, “How old are you? See, ‘cause I’m guessing you’re probably nineteen, Will is going with twenty, Austin thinks twenty-two, and Flynn is thinking you’re barely eighteen.”
I looked over each guy as he pointed, finally getting some names in my head. Then I looked at Brock and asked, “And what are the stakes?”
“Fifty bucks.”
I raised an eyebrow again. “Hmm, so if someone happens to be correct, they win the fifty bucks?”
“No, we each put in fifty bucks. Winner gets two hundred.”
“Two hundred dollars? For guessing my age?” I scoffed.
“Yep.”
“And what if you guys are all wrong?”
“Are we? You can’t possibly be over twenty-one, and if you’re under eighteen, I feel like an asshole.”
“Which is why he needs this bet settled,” Will told me with a smile.
I looked over each of the guys at the table. Of course, Brock was the forward one. Kind of cute but I think he knew that. Flynn seemed to be a little on the goofy side. He reminded me of Bart Simpson. Maybe it was his hair and wide mouth. Will and Austin appeared to be fairly normal, and Austin was even better looking than Brock. But Austin was also the quietest one, and I think that intrigued me.
“Well, one of you actually is right,” I eventually said.
“Oh, thank God,” Brock exhaled with relief. “So, who is it?”
“Ah, no, no, no,” I toyed, waving my finger at them. “This seems a little unfair to me.”
“How so?”
“I’m about to win someone two hundred bucks just by saying how old I am? This person is going to win a bet based on me. So...why don’t I get a cut?”
After Brock seemed to silently deliberate with each of them he said, “Okay, that’s fair enough. Whoever’s correct spends that money taking you out on a date,” he smiled triumphantly.
I laughed out loud. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he grinned.
“How is that fair to me? Wouldn’t it be easier to just give me half the winnings? I mean the guy is still making money on the deal, and without the hassle of the date.”
“Nah, that defeats the purpose.”
“And what’s the purpose?” I looked at each of them but no one wanted to answer. However, their smiles said it all and I had to roll my eyes, realizing they had played me perfectly. “Nice plan, boys—really, I do like it—but I’m not interested, okay?”
“And she goes for the kill, right to each of our tiny hearts,” Flynn cringed dramatically.
“Look, I need to get back to work. Can I please take your orders now?”
“Okay, okay,” Brock said. “How about this? You tell us your age, and then you get a choice. You can go out with that guy if you want, or you can just take the hundred bucks. Does that sound fair?” He made the rounds to see if each guy agreed, and they all nodded or shrugged. Then he looked at me and added, “And if you choose the money, no big deal, okay? We won’t take offense, and we’ll still come be your favorite customers.”
I actually smiled at that. I was wondering what Brock did for a living because he was quite gifted in his interactions with people.
“Okay, here’s my offer, and you guys can agree to it or not. I’ll tell you my age, and I’ll make the choice between the money or the date, but first, each of you tell me your ages and what you’re studying in school or what you do for a living. If you actually have a job,” I added.
“Oh, she’s a feisty one,” Brock smiled.
I only shrugged.
“Hmm, it’s a two-question interview, boys. She wants to know what her options are. Should we agree to it?” They took a few seconds to consider it, and then Brock said, “Sure, we’ll play. I’ll go first.” With a cheesy smile he said, “I’m Brock, I’m twenty-two, and I’m studying law at USC.”
Hmm, future lawyer? Not a big surprise.
“Will? You’re up, buddy,” he said.
“Uh, I’m also twenty-two, and I’m a history major at Davis.”
Flynn shrugged. “Twenty-one, and I’m in animation.”
I tried not to react because I pictured him drawing the Simpsons.
“Austin?” Brock motioned. “Which career would you like to share with the lovely lady?”
Austin paused briefly. “I’m twenty-three and, uh, in business.”
Two of them chuckled, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to take that. Maybe “business” meant something I didn’t want to hear.
“So?” Brock smiled at me. “Now it’s your turn.”
I took a moment before I replied, “I’m twenty-two.”
There were various reactions—apparently it had been quite a debate—and three of them slid money across the table to Austin. But I was kind of surprised he didn’t really have much of a reaction at all. He didn’t even touch the money, and took a drink of his water instead.
“Well, I’d better get back to work guys. Please give me your orders, if you still plan on staying.”
Thankfully they did order, and when I finally left the table, I had to take several deep breaths to calm my nerves.
“Holy shit, spend much time at table ten?” Robin hissed.
A mix of embarrassment and irritation raced through me. I didn’t feel like responding, so I just gave the order to our cook and busied myself with another table.
We got busy after that—two separate groups of six came in—and I only gave table ten the necessary amount of attention. Robin was cashing them out as I breezed by, and just when I thought the coast was clear, someone caught my arm.
It was Austin, and without saying a word, he put two fifty-dollar bills in my hand. I didn’t know what to say. Maybe I was waiting for Brock to make some sort of response for the group, but he seemed a bit subdued. Nobody spoke until they were to the door and Austin said, “See ya, Nova.”
I felt a bit stupefied by the turn of events.
“Why the frowny face?” Robin asked. “One of them say something mean, sweetie?”
“No, they just...I don’t know. I’ll explain it to you later.”
So, I did go over the whole situation with Robin when we had a few minutes—from the bet to all four guys leaving me with the money.
“Did you actually want to go out with him?” she asked. “Just say so, Nova.”
“No, I just...I don’t know why I’m confused. Maybe they were disappointed with the outcome. I think it was Brock who wanted the date—you know, the forward one who asked for my number the first time? Maybe the whole thing was just about him hoping the odds were in his favor.”
“So who won the bet?”
“Austin.”
“Which one is that again?”
“He was sitting in the far corner again. The guy in the black shirt with the baseball hat on.”
She started to laugh, and it truly confused me. I felt insecure at the same time since I thought she was laughing because the guy was a dickwad or something.
“What’s so funny? He’s actually hot. Kind of quiet, but really good-looking.”
“I know.”
I gave her a peculiar look.
“Nova, he’s been in here before. Without his buddies. He comes in here by himself.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him two other times. The last two Fridays for lunch.”
“I was working the last two Fridays.”
She laughed again. “I know. That’s why I think it’s funny. You didn’t even recognize him without his friends.”
I had to take a moment to think it over, wondering what it was supposed to mean. “Well...where did he sit?”
“Two,” she replied, nodding to the opposite end of the café.
I took instant insult, feeling like he purposely chose to have a different waitress.
Thankfully, table six motioned for more coffee, so I grabbed the pot to keep my thoughts occupied.