The bathroom was sparkling clean, so he took a quick hot shower, and felt better about it all as he got dressed, clean socks, clean everything. His muscles would get used to the hard work, and as long as he worked as hard as he could, he’d be fine.
When he heard the dinner bell, he clomped down those wooden steps in his still-new boots and joined everyone in the dining hall. The place was loud with all the excited chatter and festive with guests dressed in their new western gear looking a little overwhelmed by it all. He couldn’t blame them, as he was still getting used to it all himself.
He didn’t see Clay or Brody, so he took his tray of food and found a place at a small table near the window where he’d sat with Leland on Saturday. The view was beautiful, with long shadows stretching out as the sun was going behind the low mountains to the west, all purple and blue. It looked like one of those postcards you could buy at a gas station, and it was nice to be sitting still.
His body shook as he sat down, as though ramping down from a hard day’s work, and he started eating, so tired he could barely taste the food.
Across the dining hall, he spotted Leland, and it was as though a charge of electricity went through him. There Leland was, all dapper and groomed, looking like he’d never done a hard day’s work in his whole life. He had already hung up his hat, so his blond hair was sticking up as he talked to someone from his staff. Two guests stood nearby, waiting to talk to him like he was some kind of rock star.
Leland did draw the eye, and it was easy to see Jamie wasn’t the only one looking at him, with his broad shoulders and wide, bright smile. And those forearms of his. He’d rolled up his sleeves again and was talking to one of his staff and laughing. Then he turned to the guests and talked with them a bit, though it was easy to see he wanted to get on with having his dinner, only he was too polite to break away.
On impulse, Jamie pushed back from the table and went up to him, like he had important business to conduct. Leland’s eyes focused on Jamie as he walked up, but he looked puzzled, his brow furrowing.
“Hey, Leland,” Jamie said, casual. “I saved you a spot.”
“A spot?” he asked, giving the guests another smile.
“You know,” Jamie said, pointing at the table by the windows. “We were going to talk about, uh. Things. You know. Like we said we would.”
“Things?” he asked, surprised.
“We should let you go,” said one of the guests. “You’ve got business to take care of, and we didn’t mean to keep you.”
With a quick wave, the two guests got into the buffet line, which left Jamie and Leland standing there, looking at each other. His heart was pounding a little, and he wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Leland was fully capable of rescuing himself from over-needy guests, so why had he done it? And was Leland going to be mad at him about it?
“Did we have things to talk about?” Leland asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I figured they were keeping you,” Jamie said. It was a little white lie, meant to help.
“They weren’t, actually,” Leland said. “I typically sit with guests and rotate around.”
“Oh.” Now he felt stupid and lame, all at once, making assumptions about what Leland needed, and jumping in to fix something that wasn’t broke. It was only then that he remembered what Clay had said about Leland sitting with guests as part of his job. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to smile.
“Not a problem, Jamie,” said Leland. “Have a good dinner.”
With this dismissal ringing in his ears, he went back to his place at a table at the far end of the room to eat his dinner all by himself.
The food was wonderful, but he hardly tasted it as he ate and watched Leland take his tray and join a group of guests, which had been his plan all along. Sitting with Jamie on Saturday had been kindness, and nothing more. But what was it he’d been expecting, anyway? Leland had a job to do, and sitting with Jamie at dinner wasn’t part of that.
Feeling glum, he finished his dinner, then took his tray up to the bussing area and left it there. When he turned around, he almost bumped into Maddy, clipboard in hand.
“There you are,” she said. “We missed some paperwork I need you to sign. Here’s a pen.”
“What is this?” he asked, taking the clipboard and pen.
“It’s about tips,” she said, clucking under her breath as she watched him try to read the single sheet of paper.
“Tips?”
“You know, if a guest gives you money as a tip,” she said. “We have a policy that you can’t keep tips. You turn them into me, and at the end of the year we have a party for staff, and hand out whatever cash we don’t use.”
Jamie leaned the clipboard against the metal bussing table, and not really thinking about it, signed at the bottom. Sure, a place like this wouldn’t want to encourage tipping so guests wouldn’t feel obligated.
“How’s it going so far?” she asked him as she ruffled through other papers in her hand.
“Pretty good,” he said, lying about it. “I think I’m going to turn in and get an early night, I’m that tired.”
“Oh, no,” she said, peering seriously at him through her eyeglasses. “You don’t want to do that. We’ve got a new program for line dancing in the evenings. Got a dance instructor and everything. It takes place right after the dining hall closes, and it’s a lot of fun.”
