Bucked

I walk up to my last table so demoralized I barely even look up.

“My name’s Chastity and I’ll be your server this evening. What can I get you?” I say staring at my pad of paper.

“Chastity… That’s funny, I thought your name was Canada,” says a deliciously sinful voice. I manage not to drop my pen and paper, but I know my jaw falls to the floor. “You might want to close tha

t pretty mouth of yours, Canada,” he grins. “The whole bar will go wild.”

I do. “How did you… Did you… How are you?” I finally manage. Did he know I work here?

“Well I’m just fine,” he says, looking at me sideways. “But the question is, how are you?”

“Um, it’s my first day, honestly,” I babble. “And I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that maybe I’m not made for waitressing.”

“Well I can vouch for that. You’re made for something a lot more special,” he says. “But there’s no shame in working for a day’s pay.”

“Thanks,” I blush wildly. “Now is there something I can get you? Maybe I won’t screw this order up.”

“Well I could really do with a draft beer and a burger and fries,” he says. “But what I’d like even more is some company.” He winks at me. God help me, I melt. “What time are you off work?” he says smoothly. “...Chastity?”

Hearing my name in his voice puts such a thrill through me that I hope he can’t see it written all over my face.

“Today’s really just training,” I admit. “I’m actually allowed to get off work in about fifteen minutes. Thank heaven because I wouldn’t last a full shift. So, I’ll serve you and then I’m done for the day.”

“Well, I would be honored if you’d join me,” he says as I melt into my high-heel shoes.

“Thank you, I just might,” is what comes out of my mouth, despite every cell in my body telling me yes and no simultaneously. I hurry away, terribly self-conscious about the way my hips sway in these shoes, entirely too sure that he’s staring at my ass.

As I type the order into the computer, my heart is racing. Should I sit with him? Or maybe just sneak out the back, and get another waitress to serve him? That’s sounding better and better all the time. Maybe Lacey will do it. She’s just in the kitchen right now. I’ll go grab her and ask her.

“Lacey,” I hiss.

“What? Is everything okay? No more dive-bombing little old ladies?” She smiles.

“No it’s something way worse than that,” I whisper.

“What?” she says, wide-eyed. “What could be worse?”

“It’s Kanen!” I grab her arm. “He’s here! And he wants me to join him!”

“What are you talking about?” she says skeptically. She peeks her head around the corner and jumps back. “Oh my God, it’s Wrecker!” Her hands fly to her mouth. “You weren’t kidding!”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” I say. “I’ve got to bring him a beer. But after that can you take over the table? Please?” I beg.

“So that you can sit with him?” she says, eyebrows coming together. “Uh, yeah, of course.”

“No! So that I can run out the back!”

A laugh emerges from her tight lips. “No way! I’ll take over the table if you’re going to have a date with him, but not if you’re going to avoid him. That’s no fun at all!”

“Oh come on, Lacey, do me this one favor,” I say, pleading now. “Let me get out of here with a shred of my dignity intact!”

“You better bring your customer a beer on the double,” she admonishes me. “Or I will, and you’ll need to sit with him right away.”

I look over to the bar, where there’s a frosty beer sitting and waiting to be brought to his table. “Fine,” I spit. “If you insist.”

She relents, fixes a piece of my hair that’s hanging in my eyes, and tells me to go sit with him as she puts the beer on a tray. “I’ll bring you one as well,” she says kindly. “It’ll help settle your nerves.”

She gives me a little push, which normally would be fine, but in these heels makes me stumble. I grab the wall as I lurch forward.