“Oh,” I breathe. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…”
And then the finale comes, and my knees buckle, throwing me head first onto Stone’s table, where I knock off the condiments with a crash to the floor and throw a cloud of sugar and salt into the air.
Stone jumps up and scoops me off the table. “Are you okay?” he asks, clutching my shoulders. I will my Stone chemical reaction to end, but he’s touching me. I can feel the heat of his hands through the polyester sleeves of my uniform. I will myself to act normal. How much humiliation can a woman take?
“I’m fine,” I say. “There must have been something slick on the floor, and I slipped.” I say this to a spot about three inches above Stone’s head, because I don’t trust myself to make eye contact with him again.
Stone nods and sits down. This is the game we’ve been playing for years. I act like a lunatic and he pretends it’s all normal. A lesser man would sit at a different table. A different man might suggest I get an MRI to see what’s happening in my screwed up brain. But Stone just tidies up the condiments and closes his menu.
“I think I’ll try the meatloaf, Norma,” he says.
“I’m hearing good things about the chicken fried steak tonight,” I say, talking to my order pad.
“Okay. Chicken fried steak. Give me a cup of coffee with that, too, please. With…”
“Lots of cream,” I finish for him. “Coming right up.”
I take a deep breath and walk away from the table as fast as I can. I place the order with the kitchen and rest my hand on the counter, trying to catch my breath.
I’m so pathetic.
“Smooth,” Marcy says, sauntering up to me. “Real smooth.”
“Every damned time. It’s like I’m allergic to him.”
“He’s staring at you.”
I don’t dare look his way. “He’s probably wondering how I survived to adulthood when I’m such a klutz.”
“Nope. He’s looking at your ass.”
“No he’s not,” I say, smacking her arm. I’m dying to sneak a peek to see if Marcy is telling the truth, but I don’t dare. Lord knows what else I’d break.
“He’s looking at your ass and he’s got an I-need-me-some-of-that expression.”
I grab her and pull her into the back. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. He’s not looking at me like that.”
“You know why he always reads the menu, even though he knows what’s on it? He’s looking to see if they added a Norma entrée. Or a Norma dessert. That man is hungry for you.”
Her words are too much for me to handle. It’s like being teased about a winning lottery ticket when all you really have is the bonus number. I grab a nearby frying pan and wield it over my head. “Shut up. If you don’t stop lying, I will pound you into schnitzel.”
She puts her hands up in surrender. “Fine. Fine. Mr. Smoldering Hotness isn’t looking at your ass. He doesn’t want to get naked with you.”
“Exactly,” I say, smoothing out my uniform. “I’m just the woman who spills food on him every night. And besides, he’s my brother’s best friend.”
“Your brother is in Alaska. You two could do a whole lot of damage before your brother ever gets wind of it.”
“He would never. I could never. And my brother would…”
I’m babbling. I’m drooling. I can’t allow myself to fantasize about it. It’s an impossible situation. Besides, Stone doesn’t like me. He just sits at my table every night.
“Well look at that!” A woman yells from the dining room.
“What an ass!” An old man yells. “I could use that ass to crack walnuts! I wish my ass looked like that. Mine looks like someone hung drapes on my backside.”
Marcy arches an eyebrow at me. “What the…?”
We run back into the dining room. There’s a group of diners plastered against the window. Uh oh.
