“Yeah.” He reached across the wooden bar for his iPad. “We’ve got a full house after eight. One birthday party of ten, another group of six, and then assorted two-tops. Plus I have to check the Open Table reservations that might’ve come in.”
Impressed, I finished my wine. “You’re doing great. Now let me go into the kitchen and help where I can.”
“You can make the ravioli. I’ve got Jasper and Luis prepping.”
Two hours later, the restaurant slowly began to fill up. I recognized many of the people from the neighborhood, and I was serving the birthday table of ten their coffee when a lone man entered. He paused by the door, and I couldn’t help but stare. No one I’d ever seen before. Olive-toned skin set off vivid blue eyes. A full mouth. High cheekbones jutted out, and his thick, dark hair lay in sleek waves.
“Damn,” I muttered to myself and set the last cup in front of the customer, then strode across the floor to greet him. “Good evening, and welcome to Mangia. Do you have a reservation?”
“I do,” he replied in a smooth, deep voice. “Last name is Evans.”
I checked the computer and saw he had reserved a table for one. “Just you, Mr. Evans?” I picked up a menu.
“Me, myself, and I.” He followed me, unbuttoning his trench coat. “Unless I can persuade you to join me?” His teeth gleamed white, and the fiery spark in his blue eyes released a tug of lust that curled around my spine.
“I wish I could, but I think the owner would fire me for leaving my customers in the lurch.”
“Shame,” he murmured. “But your dedication to your job is admirable.”
Not often tongue-tied, I didn’t have a quick response and stood for a moment before shaking myself out of my stupor. “Can I get you a drink? A cocktail, or a glass of wine, perhaps?”
“I’d love a Negroni.” He met my gaze full-on. “Please.”
“Of course.”
My heart beat faster, and I nearly stumbled over myself on the way to the bar.
Mike watched me with amusement. “Steady there, brother.”
“Shut up. I need a Negroni.”
“You got it.” He spoke to me as he made the drink. “You had a nice little chat with him.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. No big deal. I’m here to serve, not flirt.” I took the drink and a coaster and placed them on a small dark tray.
But Mike was no dope. “He hit on you?Niiice.” He peered over my shoulder. “Never seen him before, but even I know that coat’s expensive as hell. Must cost over two grand.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I’m not impressed.”
I left and returned to Evans’s table. “Here you are, sir. Would you like to hear the specials?”
“Definitely.”
He rested his chin on his fingers as I recited the food, and I was careful to play up the freshness of the ingredients and that they were locally sourced.
“I’ll have the branzino and the ravioli.” He handed me back the menu.
“Oh,” I said, blinking. “Both? Are you expecting someone else?”
His smile lit up those blue eyes, and my breath caught. “I’m hoping there will be enough for us to share tomorrow morning.”
