Heiress to Waitress Page 8

  I picked up the menu. It had impressed me the first time I’d read through the names of the hundred teas. Now it daunted me. At least I knew two tea names- the Yogi Chai and rosehip tea.

  Time trickled past. I glanced at Bramble from time to time. Her bejeweled glasses perched at the end of her dainty nose flashed as she typed away.

  My stomach grumbled. The smells wafting from the kitchen didn’t help matters. However, I persisted, keeping my eyes on the list of teas available at the tea shop.

  “Get something to eat from tomorrow,” said Bramble with an exasperated look. “You can’t work on an empty stomach.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think of it,” I mumbled, trying to quiet my stomach and failing.

  At quarter to six, Jeanne walked into the office.

  Nodding towards me, she greeted Bramble with a “Hey, Boss. The usual?”

  “Yes and bring an extra cup and a chicken salad sandwich.”

  “It’s fine, Bramble,” I said. Faltering under their combined gaze, I said, “I’m sorry, Miss Woods. I am not hungry.”

  Bramble looked at Jeanne. “Go on.” Turning her gaze at me, she said, “Employees get a 40% discount on everything. I forgot to mention that.”

  “Thank you, Miss Woods. You’re really kind,” I said, flushing with embarrassment.

  She waved her hand like it was nothing. “You’re new at this. You will learn soon enough.”

  Jeanne came back with a tray topped with a teapot and a plate of sandwiches. Another waitress walked in with her.

  “This is Dorothy,” said Jeanne, gesturing at the woman beside her. “Carla is at the front. So I brought her here to meet you.”

  “Hello,” I said, taking in the woman’s slouched posture and dark, curly hair.

  “Dorothy is also a writer,” added Bramble, pulling the tray towards her.

  “Part-time,” said Dorothy in a soft voice. As her cheeks turned pink, I guessed she was a shy person.

  When Jeanne and Dorothy left, Bramble poured us both cups of teas. From the aroma, I could tell it was Earl Grey. It was the most common tea we drank back home.

  The bite of the chicken sandwich and the sip of hot, sweet tea felt like heaven. I ate without a word.

  “Nicole is an excellent chef,” I commented after I finished the second sandwich.

  “She is,” Bramble agreed. “We’ll go meet Margo after you’re finished.”

  “I am done,” I said, draining my cup. “Thanks for the lovely meal again.”

  Bramble waved it off. She stood up and asked me to follow her. We took a different short corridor and went through a door. Entering through it, I realized that it was right behind the counter that housed the display for all the baked goods. From my position, the whole café was visible. Only two tables were occupied now.

  “Hey, Miss Woods,” said the young woman I had seen yesterday.

  “Hi, Margo,” said Bramble. “Meet our newest member, Olivia.”

  Margo looked like a college girl. She had dirty blond hair which was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and wore dark, but neat eye makeup.

  “Cool,” she said, giving me a wink. “Ready to start here?”

  “Not yet,” I said, thinking of all the names of teas I had yet to memorize.

  “Come with me, Olivia,” said Bramble, her glasses flashing white.

  We walked back to the office and were met by Jeanne who was picking up the empty cups and dishes. “Is there a customer Olivia can practice on?” asked Bramble.

  My heart lurched. Practice on an actual customer?

  “There’s that boy on table five. He’s been here since four. I was about to tell him we are near to closing time, but maybe she could do it,” said Jeanne, gesturing towards me.

  “I’m not sure,” I said quickly.

  “Oh c’mon!” said Jeanne. “He’s handsome!”

  I grimaced. That was even worse.

  “Put on the apron,” said Bramble in a firm tone that I found impossible to argue with. This was her bossy side.

  Jeanne helped me tie the strings. I smoothed down the front of the apron, hoping to look neat and presentable.

  “How do I look?” I asked.

  “Pretty,” she said. “Now smile. Don’t look like you are going to war.”

  I felt differently. This was the first interaction I would have with a customer. It was a chance to show Bramble that I could do the job.

  “Let him know that we close at seven P.M and if there was any last thing he wished to order,” said Jeanne.

  “Right,” I said, trying to memorize the exact words.

  “Here, take my pad and pen,” she said, thrusting them at me.

  “Let’s watch from behind the counter,” said Bramble. “Olivia, go on.”

  I looked at their retreating backs. Perhaps if they’d told me this was coming up, I would be more comfortable doing this. However, dread weighed me down now.

  I stood up and walked towards the door leading into the dining area. From the entrance, my eyes swept over the tables. Two ladies were getting up from their seats and only the boy remained, his back facing me.

  Running my hand over the apron, I took a deep breath and strode forward.

  “Hello,” I said, looking down at the top of the boy’s head.

  When he looked up, I stumbled backward. “You?”

  It was Ryan Hargrove staring up at me. His blue eyes traveled from my head to feet. I squirmed under his scrutiny, feeling my cheeks warming up.

  The corner of his mouth lifted in an amused grin.

  “What?” I hissed, annoyed by his smile.

  “You look nice, Olivia,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I was wondering what you were doing so long inside. Now I see you have started working here.”

  “Were you following me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at me.

  “Not really,” he said with a shrug.

  “But you just said- ”

  “Olivia.” A voice spoke from behind me. It was Jeanne. I had forgotten they were watching me. I turned towards the front counter and saw Bramble and Margo staring at me intently.

  “Is everything all right here?” asked Jeanne with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her gaze flicked between me and Ryan Hargrove.

  “It’s fine,” I replied in a sweet tone. “He’s leaving now. Goodbye, now.”

  Hargrove raised an eyebrow at me, but he didn’t say anything. He began collecting his books and putting them in his bag.

  “I hope you had a good time,” said Jeanne when he slung his bag over his shoulder.

  “Yes,” said Hargrove. His gaze shifted to me. “I will be coming here more often now.”

  My mouth fell open at his declaration. I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something unsavory in front of Jeanne and the others. I suppose this is what being professional truly meant- smile and pretend everything’s good with the world when inside your head, you are throwing a big tantrum.

  “Well done,” said Jeanne when Hargrove walked out of the glass front doors. “Next time, talk less with the customer. We are supposed to be friendly with them, but not chatty. You understand?”

  “Yes, sorry,” I muttered.

  “That’s fine. You did good, kid.”

  Bramble and Margo walked from behind the counter to join us.

  “I am glad to see your shyness was temporary,” said Bramble. “It is natural to feel hesitant before talking to a stranger, but once you do, it’s not too bad.”

  “Yes,” I mumbled, wondering if I’d just cheated.

  “Are you ready to start tomorrow?” asked Bramble.

  I nodded.

  “Good. Once the café empties, we clean the place and close up. Basically, your shift starts at four thirty PM and ends at seven-thirty each night. You must arrive thirty minutes before shift begins so you can be ready.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Do you have a car or bike?” asked Margo.

  “No.”

  “Loo
k into getting a bike, at least. Willow Lane is quite far from here and the quicker you reach home in the evenings, the better.”

  “Yeah,” I said, agreeing with her. My gaze went to the dark street outside. For a moment, I wished to remain inside the warm and well-lit tea shop.

  “See you tomorrow, then,” said Bramble. She turned away and walked through the door that led to her office.

  “See ya,” said Margo and Jeanne together.

  “Bye. I just need to grab my bag from the office.”

  They waved and walked away. I untied the apron and watched them sweeping the dining hall.

  I went to collect my bag from Bramble’s office. To my surprise, the room was empty. Picking up my bag from the floor, I shoved the apron and my uniform inside it.

  Margo and Jeanne were joined by Dorothy in the dining hall. They waved at me one last time as I turned to open the glass front doors.

  A cold breeze blew by as I descended the steps. The street looked empty as I began walking towards home. Up ahead, a dark figure stood under one of the street lights.

  I stopped, wondering if it would be safer to go back inside the tea shop. It was still at a small distance which I could cover if I ran.

  The figure came forward. It disappeared in the pool of darkness between two street lamps and reappeared again. After a few seconds, I recognized the person. It was Ryan Hargrove.

  “What are you still doing here?” I asked as he walked up to me.

  He didn’t say anything but gazed down at me. There was no humor in his eyes or smile on his face.

  “Why don’t you have a car or a bike?” he asked.

  “I just don’t,” I bit out, not wanting to tell him of my family’s misfortunes.

  “I could get you one if you wanted,” he said. His eyes glittered in the fluorescent light of the street lamp.

  “I don’t need anything from you,” I said, and began walking.

  “If you are working here, you should really get a bike at least,” he said, falling in step with me.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, hoping to shut him up.

  “My car is up ahead. Let me give you a ride.”

  “No.”

  I felt his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from moving. “It is not safe,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

  My heart began beating hard. I willed it to calm down, but looking up at the boy in front of me didn’t help. Suddenly, my mind conjured up the incident a few nights ago.

  Strange men with fingers like cold, hard steel. Beer soaked breath on my face. Loud jeers and threats.

  I shivered.

  “I promise I’ll keep you safe,” said Ryan Hargrove, both his hands on my shoulders now.

  My heart drummed harder now. I was grateful for the night as my cheeks burned hot.

  I nodded as my tongue refused to form the simple word ‘okay’.

  “Wait here,” he said, removing his hands from my shoulders. “I’ll get the car here.”

  When he moved away, I missed his warmth. I shook my head to clear it off the strange feeling. This is why I felt odd with Ryan Hargrove. He made me behave weirdly too.

  A shiny black Cadillac came towards me. The door to my side was swung open. Ryan Hargrove was leaning towards me as he said, “Get in.”

  I climbed into the seat beside him. The interior of the car was warm. For a while, I looked ahead while he drove. There was no traffic on the streets. Things looked different from the way they appeared in daylight. It felt more subdued and there were shadows in every corner. Suddenly, it felt like a good idea to have a car.

  I glanced at Ryan Hargrove beside me. He was looking straight ahead. I noticed the muscled arms that were stretched out towards the steering wheel and wondered what sport he played. His face was relaxed now.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, turning towards me.

  I cricked my neck, trying to turn away fast. Did he catch me staring at him?

  “I am fine,” I said, looking ahead.

  It took less than a quarter of an hour to reach my home.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Opening the door of the car, I stepped out.

  “See you tomorrow, Olivia,” he called out and turned the car around. Before I could say anything, he had driven away.

  I walked through the fenced gate to reach the door, wondering where Ryan Hargrove lived. If he was jogging in the woods behind the house, it could not be too far away. I shook my head to remove all thoughts circling around him and pressed the bell.

  Chapter 8

  Before going to school the next day, I tried on the full uniform along with the apron. The white plaid dress stopped a few inches over my knees. A crown stitched in black thread adorned the bib of the blue apron. The lower part had a wide pocket sewn to provide a place for a small notebook and pen. I glanced at the mirror in front of me and was happy to observe I looked similar to the other waitresses at the tea shop.

  A knock sounded on my door.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “Me,” said James’s voice.

  For a moment, I wondered if it was okay for James to see me dressed this way. However, I had barely spoken to my brother since school began that week.

  “Hey, James. Come in,” I said.

  He entered the room. His green eyes, so similar to mine, took in my appearance.

  “If I didn’t know you were actually planning to work at this tea shop, I’d say you look good in the costume.” He shook his head. “How the mighty have fallen.”

  My eyes widened at the phrase. It was something people at the academy used to say when something humiliating happened to a popular student. “You didn’t email someone at Strathmoore, did you?”

  “Of course, not. I haven’t been on social media for ages.”

  I relaxed, turning back to the mirror. “Well, as long as I look good, there’s nothing to complain about. Anyway, did you want to talk to me about something?”

  “There’s a music competition in the school auditorium today. My friend’s sister will be performing along with some others to qualify. There will be students from other schools too. I thought it might interest you,” he finished with a shrug.

  “Any idea when it starts?”

  “At two P.M. If you don’t have classes, check it out.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the denim jacket and sauntered out of the room.

  I had not forgotten the rush of emotions that ran through me when I had played the school piano. A part of me still yearned to play. Taking the timetable out of my bag, I checked my schedule. Classes ended at three P.M. as usual.

  “Olivia, it’s getting late.” I heard Sarah’s voice coming from downstairs.

  I got out of the tea shop uniform and got dressed for school. Shoving the apron and the white dress in my bag, I went downstairs.

  “James already left,” said Sarah, putting a plate of fried eggs and toast on the table.

  “It’s fine. There’s still plenty of time,” I said, smearing my toast with butter.

  “Ask the people at the tea shop for a locker. Your bag looks funny,” said Sarah, taking the seat opposite me.

  I cast a glance at it. It was bulging like it was about to give birth to another baby bag. I snorted.

  Sarah looked up from her mug. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

  I shrugged.

  “Mother, when are we getting a car?” I asked. “I might need a ride from time to time if I get late at the tea shop.”

  “I’m working on it. Debbie’s husband knows a car salesman and they will help get us a good deal.”

  “Could you ask them how much a bike costs? I’m hoping to get one with my salary,” I said.

  “Sure. Or I can look online for you. There’s plenty of second-hand stuff in good condition available these days,” said Sarah.

  “It would be so useful. The café is closer to school, but coming home from there takes time.”

&nbs
p; “I worry until you get home,” said Sarah.

  I waited for her to begin telling me to give up the job, but she didn’t say anything. With a last swig of apple juice, I got up to leave.

  “Have a good day, honey,” called Sarah.

  “Bye, Mother.”

  As I walked towards school, James’s news of the music competition came to my mind. Even though I was not participating, it still excited me. Deciding to see what it was about, I made up my mind to go. My shift at the tea shop didn’t start until four thirty which left me over an hour to get there even if I spent some time at the auditorium.

  When I neared the school, my gaze went to the familiar figure standing by the gate, directly looking at me. Even from a distance, I could tell it was Ryan Hargrove. Was he waiting for me?

  Feeling awkward, I walked up to him. Two of Jenny’s friends glowered at me from their preferred seat on the steel benches by the school gate. Ignoring them, I muttered a ‘hello’ at Ryan Hargrove and began walking towards the Washington Building. To my annoyance, he fell in step with me.

  “Are you working at the tea shop today?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  “Just answer me.”

  I stopped, staring up at him. He had a commanding air about himself. His eyes pierced through me like he could find the answer somewhere inside me.

  “I have a shift,” I blurted, hating the way I gave into those intense blue eyes.

  His grim features shifted immediately. He grinned. My heart thudded at the sight of his handsome face lighting up.

  “Come on,” he said, giving a tug at my arm.

  The touch of his warm hand jolted me out of my stupor. Stumbling forward, I followed him the rest of the way to Math class.

  Reaching the classroom, I found Stacie sitting in her favored second-row desk.

  “Come on,” said Ryan Hargrove, tugging on my hand again.

  I shook my head. “I’m sitting with Stacie.”

  He frowned, but didn’t say anything and went past me to walk towards the last row of desks in the classroom. I moved to take the seat beside Stacie.

  “Was he actually talking to you?” asked Stacie.