Chapter 1

THE ODOR FROM THE broccoli in the rigatoni dish overpowered Hailey’s senses as she grabbed the edge of the hot platter in her hands. She couldn”t help but grimace.

“What”s wrong with the food?” her boss asked.

“Oh, uh, nothing. I just hate the smell of broccoli.”

“How could you hate broccoli? It’s so good for you.”

“But is it worth the attack on my taste buds, Mike?”

Mike snorted as Hailey grabbed her two plates and walked away.

She tried not to gag as she made her way across the busy dining room toward table twenty-two. It wasn”t too busy in the restaurant and she only had two tables at the moment, her second table already enjoying their food.

Mike was a decent enough boss. One of the better ones she’d had. A great sense of humor, and it hardly ever became inappropriate. That was a rare occurrence in nature for her. Her last job was as a football reporter for the “Cherrywood Times” newspaper and the boss there couldn”t help but make every joke either offensive or gross, a trait she came to loathe so much that it made her rethink her life goals and leave the industry altogether. Perhaps a less male-dominated field was where she needed to be.

It wasn”t that Hailey was overly sensitive, but there were only so many times an employee can be asked to go get high and trashed by her pig of a boss that she could stomach. He was her boss for cripe’s sake, not one of the other reporters or even a friend. She also really didn’t need to know about the pussy he was “knee-deep in” each weekend either. He was likely full of shit anyway.

Instead, while balancing a couple part-time jobs, she was writing a fantasy novel about dragons and hoped to become a real novelist. Her imagination always ran wild anyway, so she might as well have started to write it all down.

She adjusted the plates in her hands so the individual pepperoni pizza’s aroma was wafting toward her face instead of the broccoli in the pasta dish. The result made her sigh in relief as she approached the table.

The restaurant tables were mostly booths, which made a lot of the clientele happy. The booths were a rich brown leather with dark wood frames. They lined the wall under a row of windows that the sun poured through throughout the day, with diners begging them to adjust the blinds so they wouldn’t be blinded by the sun’s rays. In the middle of the long restaurant was another row of booths with a partition in the middle and then there were four tables next to the kitchen for bigger parties and anyone that didn’t want to or couldn’t sit in a booth.

The kitchen was open-air designed and diners could watch the cooks work as they walked by on their way to the bathrooms, with a special counter for anyone that wanted to sit and watch the pizza cooks work their magic. The oven was red brick and gave the pizza a perfectly crispy crust. But, the best part about it was it was easy to mess up a pizza and burn it, which sometimes meant free pizza for the servers. No one had made a mistake that day, though, so she was beginning to get hungry.

The pair she approached let go of each other”s hands from across the table as she reached them with their food, excited for the coming meal.

“Rigatoni, broccoli and chicken,” she said as she placed the first plate down in front of a woman wearing nothing but red, all the way down to her nails. “And pepperoni pizza. Do you need anything else?”

She prayed they didn”t need anything else so she could go check on her other table. The timing would be perfect.

“Oh, do you have crushed red pepper flakes?”

Thank goodness, an easy ask as the shaker was on the kiosk right behind their table.

“Sure, right here!”

She grabbed it and placed it on their table.

“Okay, enjoy your meal!”

“You, too! Crap, I mean, thanks,” the lady in red started to flush in embarrassment and now even her skin matched her outfit.

“No worries. You’ve inspired me to go eat something!” The women chuckled.

Cute couple, she thought to herself as she stepped up to the table directly across from them.

“How is everything?”

A man in a workout tee and one in a polo nodded with full mouths and thumbs up, the best response a server could get.

“Great!” She exclaimed with maybe a little too much energy before walking from the pair. As much as she loved the cash in her pocket at the end of a restaurant shift, she didn”t actually enjoy the work to get it, so she was ecstatic when that work flowed easily. She made her way to the other end of the dining room where another server was standing punching in an order at one of the computer kiosks.

“Slow shift, huh?” Anne asked as she approached, then she gave Hailey’s long, dark brown ponytail a light tug when she reached her.

“About as slow as your mom to leave my house last night. Tell her to hurry up next time.”

Anne guffawed as she continued entering the order.

“Geez, she was trying her best, okay?”

“It’s not good enough anymore!”

Why was it that “your mom” jokes came so easily to her? It made them all the funnier to people that it was a clean-cut girl with what she thought to be absolutely no sex appeal making the joke. Whatever worked for her. She couldn”t help but try to make people laugh whenever she could. But she was careful not to overstep. Luckily she knew this other server not only had a mom (she made that mistake once) but her mom was just a regular old coupon-clipping housewife, jokes easily made at her expense.

“You”re crazy,” Anne laughed as she walked away from her toward the kitchen, probably to get starter salads for her table.

Hailey was left standing there awkwardly. She didn”t want to just follow her coworker like a lost puppy looking for someone to talk to so she made herself look busy by straightening the bread plates on the counter and refilling the napkins from the cabinet underneath. Then, she grabbed her chapstick out of her apron and applied it, thankful that she hadn’t lost this tube yet.

She felt her phone buzz in one of her pockets and looked around to see if any customers or her boss could see her. The coast was clear so she gave it a quick check to find a few messages waiting for her.

Hailey spotted the first one from her friend Bridget asking for an opinion on her wedding coming up. She was going to be a bridesmaid and was super lucky that Bridget was the most laid-back bride on the planet. That might explain why the text was actually about the bachelorette party instead of the wedding.

She asked for her thoughts on a picture of shoes. How the hell did Bridget find high heels with tiny penis graphics all over them? It’s probably best she didn’t ask.

She sent back a thumbs up and an eggplant emoji before going back to her messages.

The next text was a funny “Lord of the Rings” meme from one of her best friends, Avery. They’ve been friends since high school and always had each other’s backs. Their friends sometimes made jokes about how they belonged together, but it was always just friendship between them.

Hailey never understood why it was so hard to believe they could just be friends. Sure, he was handsome with his sandy hair, chiseled jawline and eyes girls went crazy for. And he was able to geek out with her over all their dorky interests. Plus, he was super kind and generous, but he deserved way better than her. Avery was currently dating someone that she thought was okay, but Hailey didn’t trust her for some reason. She couldn’t put her finger on why.

After she shot Avery a laughing gif in return, she checked her final message and immediately deflated a bit when she saw it was a text from her mom.

MOM:Bring Gage over for dinner this week. We haven’t seen him in so long!

Hailey let out a sigh as she thought about how much her mom loved her boyfriend, Gage. Sometimes it seemed like her mom wanted him around more than she did.

She texted back a quick response letting her mom know she would check with Gage about it before slipping the phone back into her magenta apron.

Gage wasn’t exactly the greatest boyfriend and she found herself constantly defending him to others. Considering this wedding was coming up and she would hate to go alone, she might as well try to make it work for now.

Another server left a table nearby and approached the computers on either end of the booths to enter their own table’s order.

“God, could this day go any slower? I’m making no money today,” said Andrew.

“I dunno, I kind of like it when it’s slow. Way less stress and a lot more time to spend with each table.”

“Well, yeah, but way less money.”

“True. I’m still lazy though.”

Andrew chuckled, surprised that anyone felt this way about the service industry. Customers meant money and money meant affording a lifestyle you wanted or things like more chapstick. The servers that worked weekend nights made the most money, of course, with more diners coming out for date nights and big hangouts with friends. She avoided working those weekend nights as often as she could, picking a shift up here and there if someone was really stuck. But after working as a football reporter, she really missed having her weekends to herself and the loss of revenue was worth it to her. She actually made more money waiting tables some weeks.

“You coming to the party for Scott next week?” Andrew asked.

“Not sure yet. I’m surprised everyone isn’t stuck at work and can’t make it.”

“Some people managed to get their shifts covered, but yeah, not everyone will be there. It will be chill though. Plus, it’s at my house so you better come.”

“I’ll check my gym schedule. I could go for chill. Definitely not up for anything crazy.” Really, she never was. It was always a disappointment when she had to get off the couch. So, the chances of her actually going to this party were low. Plus, she worked her second job at the rock climbing gym some nights.

“Are you gonna see Gage this weekend?” he asked with an annoyed look.

“Yeah, it’s our one-year anniversary.”

“Can’t believe you’ve been dealing with him that long. Cut the cord already, lady!”

“Stop, he’s great,” Hailey said with not much sincerity. She was getting tired of defending him.

“He never visits you here and the one time he did he was an absolute dick to the hostess and me. Are you still not allowed to talk to guys?”

She sighed. She tended to do that a lot when talking about Gage. Of course she was allowed to talk to guys. Gage just didn’t like it and was super jealous, so it was way easier when he wasn’t around. She didn’t complain when he stopped visiting her at work after just one time.

“This is why I’ve been considering women.”

“Do it! The heteros are not alright.”

“You’re not wrong, but I’m mostly kidding.”

Although she wasn’t totally kidding. Sometimes she wished sexuality actually was a choice. Men had done nothing but disappoint her so far in life and every relationship she had had ended badly. This current relationship seemed like it was doomed but Hailey didn’t think she could get out of it just yet. She loved him, for one thing. Could she really do any better? Probably not. It didn’t help that she sucked at quitting things. And giving up on a one-year relationship felt like quitting, no matter how much she spent her time crying. Women were so much nicer. Especially when you were drunk in a club bathroom. Best place in the world for free therapy and new friends.

Hailey’s family absolutely adored Gage. He was charming, had a stable job in finance, owned his own place, his family had an Italian background just like her mom’s side of the family, and he went to church. She liked to think that some things were more important, like respecting her needs, letting her be herself, listening to her, but what did she know, apparently? Who needs mutual respect when a guy can buy you nice things? Gag.

She snapped out of her thinking and realized she had to check on how her tables were doing. Andrew made his way back to the kitchen while she made her way back to her tables. Her newest table needed some more rolls and drink refills so she headed toward the kitchen to grab everything. The stainless steel counters stretched the entire length of the kitchen with the cooks directly behind it.

As she walked in, Mike grabbed her attention.

“Hey Hailey, 86 eggplant. We’re all out.”

“How’d we run out of eggplant? Hardly anyone ever orders it.” When a restaurant ran out of a product, it was considered 86ed, which was always annoying because that’s when customers would order it most.

“A bunch was wasted during prep today. Something to do with emojis. It’s better if you don’t ask.”

Hailey blinked at Mike a few times and then turned around to continue what she was doing. She wasn’t going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole.

She walked to the end of the counter and used tongs to grab some hot rolls out of the giant basket while repeating in her head that she needed one iced tea and one lemonade. If she didn’t repeat it, it wasn’t gonna happen. She always laughed at the servers who tried to take orders without a notepad, relying on their memory to take every request down. The way she figured, the amount that the patron would be impressed by memorizing their order, is nowhere near as good as getting the order correct every single time. The less mistakes you made as a server, it was just a fact that the better you did.

There was an exception when the kitchen messed up a dish. Maybe it’s too salty, too cold, too burnt. The customer would end up getting to keep the messed up dish as well as a new version of it. Double the food! She actually liked when that happened because guests usually made the connection that they were getting more food for their money and sometimes that reflected in her tips.

What she did not like to do, however, was rush around and be “in the weeds” with too many tables for her to handle. Rushing just wasn’t her favorite.

She made her way back to her tables and dropped off the bread and drink refills. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Andrew waving at her so she made her way back to the computer at the back of the restaurant.

“What’s up?” she asked as she approached.

“I just got a call from my mom. My dad had to be rushed to the hospital. I just cleared it with Mike. Do you think you can cover my tables for the rest of the shift? You can keep all the tips, all of them have already ordered.”

“Oh my gosh, yeah no problem! Is he okay? Are you okay?”

“I dunno yet, I just need to get there.”

“Of course, go, go! I hope everything is okay!”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

He began untying his apron and untucking his shirt as he headed toward the door, understandably flustered.

She looked up at the tables in his section, all three of them, and realized she now had five tables to worry about.

Fuck.

There were only two hours left in the shift so the rush was over but taking care of those five tables had her running around like a chicken with her head cut off.

By the end of the shift, her feet were killing her, but at least she made an extra thirty bucks from Andrew’s tables.

She looked at her ending profits and was thankful for the extra money, but she was damn tired.

She grabbed a tray of silverware and napkins and started rolling them for the tables, something servers had to do before clocking out so the next shift would have plenty to work with. On Friday and Saturday nights, sometimes they had to do this twice, once in the middle of the shift and again at the end of the night. This was a headache for her because it meant she had to take her focus off her tables and rush even more.

No-win situations like that made her hesitant to pick up weekend shifts.

Thirty-five rolls of silverware later, she showed the head server her pile that was organized in rows of seven.

“Seven, fourteen, twenty-one, twenty-eight, thirty-five. Okay, you’re good! Just sweep your area and you’re good to go.”

“Thanks, Anne!”

Next was the ultimate challenge: finding a broom and dustpan. Sometimes cooks grabbed these and threw them in random places in the restaurant but today she smiled as she saw a set at the end of the counters in front of the employee bathrooms.

“Hey, Hailey, you working tonight?”

She jumped at the voice and turned to see one of the cooks at the salad station.

“Oh hey, Scott! Not here. I worked the lunch shift and now I’m heading to work at the gym.”

“Do you need dinner? I can make you your favorite! Chicken pesto with mozzarella and tomato sandwich.”

“I would absolutely love that and you if you made me one.”

“You got it.” He winked.

“You da best!”

Scott started on her sandwich. He was a nice enough guy, average looking with brown hair, brown eyes and only a few inches taller than her. He flirted occasionally even though he was married, but she figured it was no big deal since nothing was going to happen. Some men were just flirts. Was that wrong? She didn’t have time to decide because she was hungry, and there was no way she was flirting back.

After she swept her section, she got her sandwich and untied her apron, then started to make her way out the door. As she walked by the empty tables getting ready for the dinner rush, she pulled out her phone before saying goodnight to the hostess at the door and getting the hell out of there. When she got outside and finally looked at her phone she stopped, her jaw dropping at the sight.

“Fifty-two missed calls? What the fuck?”