Read Online No Such Thing As a Good Blind Date: A Brandy Alexander Mystery (No Such Thing As: A Brandy Alexander Mystery) by Shelly Fredman - Free Book Online

could see where that might pose a problem.
    “Ya gotta help me.”
    What did he want me to do, drive the getaway car as he hightailed it out of town? I had a million questions, but they would have to wait. Someone was rattling the bathroom door, trying to get in.
    “Be out in a second,” I yelled. “Look, I’ve got to go. Give me a number where I can reach you. You haven’t answered any of my messages.”
    “I’ll call you.”
    “When?”
    “Tonight. So, like, don’t tell anybody I called, okay? At least not until you hear me out.”
    “Alright, but if you don’t call me tonight, I’m calling the police.”
    “Fair enough. Thanks, Roomie. I knew I could count on you.”
    Dammit. Why does he have to be so…so…pathetically endearing? I must be nuts.
    Waiting tables is harder than it looks. There are so many things to remember; who ordered what, which customer is allergic to onions (especially important) and where the Epi-Pen is kept in case you forget. The customer is always right (even when they’re not) and if you want a good tip, don’t suggest to overweight people that they substitute salad for the fries, even if you’re doing it for their own good.
    Paul approached me midway through the shift. “I was thinking, maybe you’re more suited for hostessing. Ya know, the “meet and greet” type.”
    “No, no, I’m really getting the hang of this. Oh, and could you tell the people at table three that French Onion soup doesn’t stain. For some reason they don’t believe me.”
    Paul gave me a long look. “How about you be the hostess and I raise your salary to compensate for lost tips.”
    “That’s alright, Paul. I haven’t made any tips anyway.”
    I managed to get through the rest of the shift without incident but with newfound respect for people in the service industry. Paul caught me just as I was leaving for home.
    “Are you going to be alright tonight? Because I can come by after the club closes if you want.”
    “I’ll be fine, honest. Paul, you don’t have to baby sit me.”
    He slung his arm around my shoulder and walked me to the door. “But you’re my baby sister. Plus mom would kill me if I didn’t watch out for you.”
    “I’m the worst waitress in the history of customer service and you haven’t fired me. Nepotism notwithstanding, I think you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty.” I kissed him on the cheek and told him I’d be back tomorrow. I’m not sure, but I think he blessed himself as I walked out the door.
    I stopped at the Acme on the way home. Since Toodie left I was back to eating Cheerios for dinner. It had started to rain, a slow, steady drizzle that picked up speed as I exited the car. By the time I made it inside the store, my hair was hanging in limp, sodden strands and my jacket, the ancient, woolen pea coat, was soaked through to my skin. I smelled like a Border Collie.
    I was perusing the frozen food aisle to see what was new in the world of Macaroni and Cheese, when I heard a small child’s voice about three feet in front of me.
    “Doggie,” she giggled. I looked up, wondering who would bring a dog into a supermarket. A two year old with the face of a Botticelli painting smiled innocently up at me. She was pointing a tiny finger in my direction.
    “Sophia, come here, sweetheart.”
    The voice stopped me cold. Bobby and I locked eyes as he scooped his beautiful daughter into his arms. His cart was filled to the brim with diapers, household essentials and fresh produce. It was the cart of a married man, a daddy. “Hey,” he said.
    “Hey.” I love being caught off guard. It really sharpens my conversational wit.
    “This is my little girl, Sophia. Can you say hi to Brandy, honey?”
    A droplet of water from my bangs began making its way down my cheek. At that precise moment Marie DiCarlo rounded the bend from aisle twelve in search of her husband and daughter. Even with her face contorted in anger, she looked radiant. Bobby nodded to her.