Tease (Songs of Submission #2)(24)
Author: C.D. Reiss

“How was your night last night?” asked Debbie. “I heard you went to L.A. Mod?”

Debbie, Robert, and I stood at the service bar. It was the slowest part of my shift, toward the end. All of my candles had been lit for the next shift. All of my chairs had been put into place, paper napkins twisted, and trays wiped. The sun got about its business of setting orange over the Los Angeles skyline, a sight I took for granted during the early shift.

“It was good. My ex-boyfriend did a whole piece on me, basically eviscerating me as a heartless bitch in front of everyone. Not sure what I’m going to do about that.”

“Is that legal?” Robert asked.

“Only if I’m a heartless bitch. But I figure if it’s not bad for my career, I should just close my eyes and pretend it didn’t happen.” Robert drifted off to make drinks.

“And how was the company?” Debbie smirked, a little wink flicking the bottom of her low-hanging bangs.

“Fine.”

“He took you out in public. That’s good. For both of you.”

I shook my head and rearranged the lemon and lime trays. “I don’t know.”

Debbie didn’t even hear the last word I said. She was up like a shot and already approaching a woman who’d just walked in by herself. She was tallish and blonde, and her skin glowed with health.

It was Jessica Carnes.

Debbie did her thing, smiling and double kissing, spinning conversation out of nothing. I was frozen in place. I didn’t want to serve her drinks. Nothing in the world could make me serve that woman drinks for tips. Nothing except needing my job.

Debbie indicated the bar to her. I loved Debbie with a bursting heart right then, because Robert served the bar. I was the only waitress for the next twenty minutes. If Jessica sat at a table, I’d have to serve her.

Another woman came in behind Jessica, and more kisses were doled out. She had wavy brown hair and a face shiny with plastic surgery. A buffer? Or a team?

“I’m going to be sick,” I said to Robert.

“Bathroom’s that way.”

Debbie led them to a table and handed them the drink menus. When she walked back toward the service bar, her face betrayed nothing.

“I tried,” she said when she was in earshot. “You’ll have to do it.”

“I can’t. I met her last night.”

“That’s probably why she’s here.” Debbie took my hand and squeezed it, her grip cool and firm. She looked me in the eye, unflinching. “Be a woman of grace.”

I swallowed hard, glancing at Jessica. She and her plastic surgery buddy spoke closely. The couch they sat on left their arms exposed, and I saw Jessica had a slim nylon cast on her right wrist.

“Fine.” I put my notepad in my pocket and strode over there as if I owned the place.

Jessica and Plastic watched me approach, two beige ovals with eyes seemingly in sync as they looked me up and down, much like Jonathan had when he first met me. I put a little lift in my step and smiled with closed lips.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m Monica. Can I get you anything?”

They just stared until Plastic broke the silence. “You are just as cute as a button, aren’t you?”

I smiled, showing my teeth, wishing for the pressure of Debbie’s hand on mine. “Thank you.”

“We met,” Jessica said, “last night.”

“Yes,” I said, “that’s right. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, so I didn’t want to say anything. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Of course. Same here.”

The awkward moment was broken by a phone ringing. Plastic reached for hers. “I have to take this.” She smiled to me. “Grab me a mojito, would you, dear? Easy on the sugar.” She pressed the phone to her ear and headed to the hallway.

“Can I get you something?” I asked Jessica.

“Yes, I’ll have the same.” She shifted in her seat. I was about to escape when she said, “You really had me scared last night.”

“Why is that?”

“I thought you were an eighth sister.”

Her gaze held me, and I felt just walking away would be rude. Debbie had told me to be a woman of grace, and I didn’t know a better way to do that than to show I was interested in her. “What happened to your arm? You didn’t have that last night.”

“Hairline fracture. I spent half the night in the ER. I’m actually wiped out.”

“Oh, wow. How did that happen?”

Jessica pursed her lips and looked away, then back to me. The movement was so smooth and quick, I almost missed it. “You know how it is,” she said. “Jonathan can be a little rough.”

My mouth went dry. I couldn’t even swallow. I think I shook a little because I felt my knees knock once. I had to get away. I had to be somewhere else.

“Sure,” I choked out. “Of course. I’ll get those drinks.”

I made it to the service bar. Debbie’s eyes widened. “What happened? You’re white as a sheet.”

“I have fifteen minutes left in my shift.”

“What did she say?”

“I’m not repeating it. I have to go home.”

Debbie took both my shaking hands in hers, slipping the notepad away. “You finish your shift. And you smile. Another table just came in. Take care of them, but do not linger. Do you understand?”

Her face broached no arguments. My nod was so slight and forced, I was surprised she even saw it.

“Robert,” she barked, “make two mojitos, no sugar.” She looked back at me. “Let them ask for the sugar. Make them wait. Take care of your other tables. Smile. Maddy’s here to relieve you, but you have to finish your shift. Grace, Monica.”

Robert put two drinks on my tray.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Go.”

When I went to their table to drop the drinks, Jessica and Plastic were deep in conversation. I made a nice face for them, and though Plastic opened her mouth to say something to me, I turned away before she’d engaged her vocal cords, giving me the opportunity to service my other table.

Twelve and a half minutes later, I came back to the service bar with a drink order and handed it to Robert. Maddy was made up, bright-eyed, and ready to go. I briefed her on the tables.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fantastic. Where’s Debbie?”

She shrugged. I didn’t care. I went into the back without looking behind me to see if Jessica saw me leave.