Page 21 of Bean
By the time eight rolled around, I was exhausted but also exhilarated that I’d done it. I’d survived an eight-hour shift, and I hadn’t even made that many mistakes. Two burgers had been sent back because I’d put cheese on them when they’d asked for no cheese, and one person had complained their salmon was overcooked. Whatever.
“Thanks, Andre.” I slapped the nineteen-year-old on his back. “Good job keeping up.”
He beamed at me. “Thanks, Bean. I like working with you.”
“I like working with you too.”
I loved that Zayd employed people who wouldn’t easily get a chance anywhere else. There was me and Jordan, who suffered from severe PTSD, he’d told me. And Andre had Down syndrome, but he was a hard worker who did everything with an infectious smile. Sometimes, he got a little overwhelmed, but then one of us jumped in to help him get back on track. No big deal.
“I’m gonna eat something before I head home,” I told Zayd. “Made myself some seafood pasta with leftover shrimp and salmon.”
“Sounds good. Get some rest, dude. You worked hard.”
I found a quiet spot in the back of the bar, where it was a little darker and the music wasn’t as loud. With a sigh of relief, I put my bowl of pasta and can of Coke on the table and sat down. Thank goodness that was over.
When I checked my phone, I saw a text from Jordan. He’d texted a picture of a frumpy, red baby that still had her eyes closed.
Meet Geraldine Mary, a.k.a. Gemma. Seven pounds and one ounce!
I sent an immediate text back:
She’s adorable! Congratulations to you and your family.
Not gonna lie, that baby was far from adorable, but this was one of those occasions where a white lie was completely acceptable. Growing up, my mom had often taken me and my siblings to visit church members who’d had a new baby. She’d taught us that adorable and cute were the right things to say, and if a baby was truly ugly as sin, she’d call it sweet. “Oh, such a sweet baby,” she’d coo.
I guessed God didn’t judge those kinds of lies? I’d never been able to figure that one out.
I scrolled through a news app as I ate my pasta, which had come out very well despite it being a quickly thrown-together kind of thing. It could use a little more lemon juice, but other than that, it was nice.
“Is this seat taken?”
The guy who had addressed me was cute, with a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Another silver fox. Hmm, I guessed I really did have a type then, as he was a bear too. A gorgeous bear, in fact. Hopefully, this time I could play it a little smoother?
I gently pulled back the chair he’d pointed at. “It’s not, so please join me.”
He frowned for a moment but then flashed a smile at me as he took his seat. “Fancy meeting you here.”
What was he referring to? It felt like I was missing something, but that had to be me. Maybe that was a classic pickup line. It wasn’t like I would know. “It’s a nice bar, right?”
Another frown. Was I doing something wrong? “It is.”
“Can I get you a drink?”
He pointed at my empty plate. “That depends on whether you were done eating or…if you’d be interested in a…dessert.”
Oh, he was direct, wasn’t he? That made things easier though. “If you’re the dessert, then yes. I’d be interested in that.”
The smile he shot me went straight to my balls. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Ah, good. “I live pretty far away, so would your place be an option?”
His frown was back but deeper than before. “Okay, this is getting a little too weird for me.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were interested in…hooking up.” I was totally proud of how sort of easy that word had come out of my mouth. “Did I misunderstand?”
“You’re seriously asking me where I live?”
“Well, yeah? I’ll need an address to text to a friend. I’m Bean, by the way.”