Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
I look around, searching for the big spender and gasp when I see him. I’d been anticipating someone old and greasy, to be honest, with a roll of cash clutched between sausage-like fingers. But instead, this man is gorgeous. He’s got raven-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and the features of a male model. His brow is strong and his nose Roman; those lips, I would die for a taste of.
But I have to make money. This is a time for hustling, not romance, so I prance over with an extra wiggle to my step.
“Hi, I’m Faith and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you started with something to drink?”
The man rakes his eyes over my body. This tight uniform was a good choice, obviously, when I see his gaze linger in the shadow between my girls. Unfortunately, what I didn’t count on was my physical reaction. My nipples tighten, and it’s obvious beneath the thin fabric of my dress. He smirks a bit and then flicks his eyes up to meet mine again.
“I’ll have a black coffee, thanks. I’d also like the Loggerman’s breakfast with three eggs over easy, wheat toast, and no onions in the potatoes. Both bacon and sausage if possible.”
“No problem, sir,” I sass flirtatiously. “You’ve got quite the appetite!”
“You have no idea,” he says with a sly grin. “Thanks, baby girl.”
His piercing blue eyes seem to say more, but I must be imagining things. I shake off the thought. I’m here to make money, not to dissect his appetite, sexual or otherwise.
“Coming right up!” I chirp before turning and strolling off, adding a special switch to my step. Serenity shoots me a knowing look when I get back to the counter.
“What?” I ask airily.
“I told you, he’s going to tip you big. That might not be all he gives you, either, from the way he’s eyeing you right now. Damn, that guy’s hot. What I wouldn’t give for a piece of that.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, hush, that’s the point of the outfit. Besides, don’t you have diners to serve?”
She laughs and waves as she strolls over to her section. “Yeah, but mine are all elderly and frail today. This isn’t over, girlfriend!”
I laugh, pouring some coffee into a mug before sashaying back to my handsome customer.
“Thank you,” he smirks.
“You’re welcome. Just wave if you need anything else. Your food will be out shortly.”
I turn on my heel, making sure to wiggle my butt so that my skirt sways prettily. As much as I’d love to work on this customer all day, I know I need to treat my other clients right too. After all, one man’s tip isn’t going to pay my rent, and everything counts at this point.
The remainder of my shift goes by in a blur. The lunch crowd comes in around noon, and Serenity leaves at one, which means I’m dealing with a lot of guests until things slow down.
Finally, at three p.m., I get a chance to breathe. Most of my tables are still dirty because I’ve been too busy to bus them. My neck aches a bit, and my feet feel like I’ve been walking on coals, but if I do a quick ice bath when I get home, I know the pain will go away.
I make my way to where my handsome guest sat. He stayed for a long time, asking for refill after refill after refill. I hope he left me a big tip because those piercing blue eyes were on me the whole time.
Heart racing, I pick up his check, but then my stomach drops. He’s drawn a line through the tip spot, leaving me absolutely nothing.
My stomach drops to the pit of my feet. What the hell? What did I do wrong? I’ve never had someone leave without tipping before. Plus, I thought I was treating him well, but clearly, the man thought differently.
Disgruntled, I pick up his plate. I want to smash this thing into smithereens, but then my eyes catch a flash of green because beneath the plate is a hundred-dollar bill.
I gasp and look around. Surely, this was a mistake. He dropped it, right? But beneath the cash is a small note that reads “Thanks, Faith. Come by 9 p.m. tomorrow night.” There’s an address scribbled beneath the note, but it’s not signed.
My heart races. Did this guy just proposition me for a good time? I can’t believe it. But I slip the note into my pocket, along with the hundred dollar bill. The proposition I’ll think about later, but the cash is a windfall, given my precarious financial position.
As I clean off his table, my mind spins. What should I do? There’s no way I’m going to meet up with this gorgeous stranger, but then again, why not? I’m young and single, and it’s not like there are a ton of guys in our little town lining up to date me. Hell, after my horrific experience with Jimmy, this could be exactly the kind of R&R I need. Maybe I will go on this unexpected rendezvous, just to see what happens.