Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I shut the door quietly behind me and hurry down to the sidewalk and turn toward town. The further away from Scott’s house I get, the faster I walk. This was a horrible idea.
I don’t know why I thought that I could simply apologize and everything would be okay. Just because he was worried after the fire doesn’t mean that he forgives me. It doesn’t mean that he wants us to have any kind of relationship.
I’m not going to reach out to him again. Not because I don’t want to, but because I just can’t keep hitting this emotional wall, over and over again. It’s painful.
I hope that one day, Scott will reach out and want to have me in his life. But he’s an adult, and that’s his decision.
I wipe away the tears on my cheeks and blow out a long breath.
“Enough of this. I have to go to work, and it’s going to be another long shift.” I walk right over to the diner and straight back to the break room where I stow my purse away in the orange locker with my name on it and loop a clean apron around my waist.
It’s time to set my personal stuff aside and get to work.
“Breakfast has been busy,” Angela, my coworker, says when I join her at the computer. “I have the right side of the room, so you take the left.”
“Got it.” I slip a fresh pad of order-taking paper into my pocket, along with a pen and a handful of straws. “Specials?”
“Banana bread French toast with bacon or a Denver omelet.”
“Yum. Maybe I’ll snag some of that French toast.”
“I have a plate of it over there,” Angela says, gesturing across the room. “Grab yourself a couple of bites. You’ll need the fuel.”
“Okay, thanks.” I’m surprised. Angela isn’t usually this nice to me. She’s always been distant and kind of pissy in the past. But, I don’t question it and set off to handle my tables. “Good morning. I’m Sarah, and I’ll be helping you out today. What can I get you to drink?”
“This fork is dirty, I’ve been waiting ten minutes for coffee, and I don’t think anyone wiped this table down before seating us here.”
I look into the eyes of an impatient woman who is sitting across from a clearly embarrassed man.
“I’ll replace the fork, I’m happy to pour you some coffee, and I’m sure the table was wiped down, but I’ll do it again. No problem. Would you like coffee, too?”
“Of course, he does,” she snaps, but I continue to look at the man.
“Coffee would be great,” he says with a polite smile.
“Coming right up. Would you like to order now or when I come back with your coffee?”
“Since we’ve been waiting so long, we’ll order now.” She rolls her eyes, as if I should have known that already. “I’ll have the Denver omelet with no onions, wheat toast, and the house potatoes.”
“Got it. And you?”
“Wait. You aren’t going to write it down?”
I blink at her. “You’re having a Denver omelet with no onions, wheat toast, and house potatoes.”
“No shredded hashed browns,” she says emphatically. “I think you should write it down.”
I narrow my eyes. Am I being punked right now? “I promise you, I understand your order.”
“I’ll have,” the man begins, cutting off the comment the woman was about to give, “eggs benedict with hashed browns and an English muffin on the side.”
“Great choice.”
“You’re not going to write that down, either?”
“Nope, I’ll be back with your coffees.” With a super fake smile, I walk away, drop their menus in the basket by the hostess stand, and tap the computer to put in their order.
“She looks like a prize,” Angela says as she joins me. “That’s why I gave you that side of the room.”
“Awesome. It’s going to be one of those days,” I reply and blow a strand of my hair out of my eye.
“Good luck.” Angela pats my shoulder and hurries off to refill coffee mugs.
I love all my coworkers. Willow and Sunny are my favorites, but everyone here is awesome to work with. Even when the customers are difficult, Sunny and Willow are upbeat, happy, and we have fun together. Angela hasn’t been one of my faves, but she’s not horrible, either.
I love it here.
I hurry over and fill an entire carafe with coffee, and place it, along with the mugs, sweetener, and creamer, on a tray, and carry it over to Miss Difficult.
“I brought you your own pot of coffee,” I say brightly as I fill the mugs and set everything on the table. “Your orders shouldn’t take long.”
“If you got them wrong, we’ll send them back,” she warns me, and reaches for her mug. “There’s no Splenda in here.”
“I’ll grab you some.”
I walk away and find the yellow packets, then return to the table.