going to be here in time. I locked my phone and laid it on my stomach, rubbing my temples rather aggressively. I had really been looking forward to my caffeine fix. There was a gentle rapping at my door, and I stood while tucking my phone into my back pocket. On the other end of the door was Calder, holding a Styrofoam cup and wearing a guilty grin as he held the cup out to me. "Sorry, overslept."
I sighed, taking the cup from him. It was lukewarm, so I set it on the side table next to my doorway. "Yeah, no shit." I muttered, turning back to him with my hands on my hips. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with another button down plaid shirt, this time green. His normally unkempt hair was slicked back rather nicely, and I couldn't help but decided that that was why he was late. “Well, I've gotta go to work now. Anna's door is two down, she's probably home."
"Awesome. Thanks, Win. I owe you one."
"I'll put it on your tab." I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, locking my door and shutting it behind me. "See ya later." I patted Calder on the back gently as I walked past him, and he walked towards the direction of Anna's door.
"Hope you have some more generous mystery tippers today," He called back to me, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. The two hundred dollar tip was sitting safely in my wallet for next time I went grocery shopping. As a waitress you hear about these freak occurrences of incredible tips, but I had never experienced it before myself. Victoria, the waitress at Agacelli's that had trained me when I first started, told me about receiving a $50 tip for a cup of coffee from an elderly gentleman one afternoon, but getting such a large tip for a spilled cup of coffee was unheard of. Honestly I wanted him to come back, so I could thank him and maybe understand his generosity. It was beyond strange to me.
The bell dinged as I walked into work, and I eyed my section curiously. The rest of the booths were completely full, but my section was empty except for one booth in the back, table ten. There he sat, my mystery tipper from the day before.
I put on my apron as I set my things in the back, and walked over to my back booth. Now I really looked at him. I only recognized him from his posture and his hair. Short, yet soft looking blondish-brown hair, almost sandy in color, sitting atop a very handsome head with a sharp jawline and a clean shaven face. His lips were thin and smirking as I approached, and his blue-green eyes swallowed me up inside their depths. He sat up straight, his broad shoulders and chest accented by a well fitted black suit jacket. There was a dimple in his right cheek, which came to look more like a scar the closer I got. He had to be at least ten years older than me. I stopped beside him, one had on my hip. "I really hope you didn't inform everyone sitting around you that I was a horrible waitress." I gestured to the empty booths.
"No," he replied with a smile, his voice smooth and handsome, "I rented your section. Table ten down, right?"
My jaw nearly dropped, and unconsciously I felt my heartbeat quicken. He repeated my words from the day before back to me in an almost arrogant way, like I was meant to be impressed by the attention he paid to me. Which, obviously I was. My flushed cheeks were obviously enough to satisfy him. "Can I get another coffee, perhaps in a cup and not my lap today?"
"Um...yeah." I awkwardly walked away, his clear pleasure with my discomfort somewhat unnerving. Leila rushed past me with a tray in her hands, giving me a nasty scowl as I almost walked right into her while I was lost in my own thoughts. What was Not-So-Mystery Tipper playing at? There are less severe ways of flirting with someone. Maybe he was some wealthy self-made billionaire that liked to murder waitresses in his Bat cave beneath his mansion.
I carefully walked his cup of coffee over to him, setting it down in front of him as he smirked satisfactorily. "So," I began, "Do you
I sighed, taking the cup from him. It was lukewarm, so I set it on the side table next to my doorway. "Yeah, no shit." I muttered, turning back to him with my hands on my hips. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with another button down plaid shirt, this time green. His normally unkempt hair was slicked back rather nicely, and I couldn't help but decided that that was why he was late. “Well, I've gotta go to work now. Anna's door is two down, she's probably home."
"Awesome. Thanks, Win. I owe you one."
"I'll put it on your tab." I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, locking my door and shutting it behind me. "See ya later." I patted Calder on the back gently as I walked past him, and he walked towards the direction of Anna's door.
"Hope you have some more generous mystery tippers today," He called back to me, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. The two hundred dollar tip was sitting safely in my wallet for next time I went grocery shopping. As a waitress you hear about these freak occurrences of incredible tips, but I had never experienced it before myself. Victoria, the waitress at Agacelli's that had trained me when I first started, told me about receiving a $50 tip for a cup of coffee from an elderly gentleman one afternoon, but getting such a large tip for a spilled cup of coffee was unheard of. Honestly I wanted him to come back, so I could thank him and maybe understand his generosity. It was beyond strange to me.
The bell dinged as I walked into work, and I eyed my section curiously. The rest of the booths were completely full, but my section was empty except for one booth in the back, table ten. There he sat, my mystery tipper from the day before.
I put on my apron as I set my things in the back, and walked over to my back booth. Now I really looked at him. I only recognized him from his posture and his hair. Short, yet soft looking blondish-brown hair, almost sandy in color, sitting atop a very handsome head with a sharp jawline and a clean shaven face. His lips were thin and smirking as I approached, and his blue-green eyes swallowed me up inside their depths. He sat up straight, his broad shoulders and chest accented by a well fitted black suit jacket. There was a dimple in his right cheek, which came to look more like a scar the closer I got. He had to be at least ten years older than me. I stopped beside him, one had on my hip. "I really hope you didn't inform everyone sitting around you that I was a horrible waitress." I gestured to the empty booths.
"No," he replied with a smile, his voice smooth and handsome, "I rented your section. Table ten down, right?"
My jaw nearly dropped, and unconsciously I felt my heartbeat quicken. He repeated my words from the day before back to me in an almost arrogant way, like I was meant to be impressed by the attention he paid to me. Which, obviously I was. My flushed cheeks were obviously enough to satisfy him. "Can I get another coffee, perhaps in a cup and not my lap today?"
"Um...yeah." I awkwardly walked away, his clear pleasure with my discomfort somewhat unnerving. Leila rushed past me with a tray in her hands, giving me a nasty scowl as I almost walked right into her while I was lost in my own thoughts. What was Not-So-Mystery Tipper playing at? There are less severe ways of flirting with someone. Maybe he was some wealthy self-made billionaire that liked to murder waitresses in his Bat cave beneath his mansion.
I carefully walked his cup of coffee over to him, setting it down in front of him as he smirked satisfactorily. "So," I began, "Do you
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