Chapter Eight
For a Thursday night, the restaurant was unusually busy: something to do with a one-off event nearby, meaning we’d had a sudden influx of out-of-towners.
I hadn’t really been listening properly when someone had mentioned it earlier.
Luckily, it wasn’t so packed that it wasn’t possible to take a breather.
That’s what I was doing right then, leaning against the bar while I watched Kate wend her way expertly between the tables, carrying more dishes at one time than anyone should be capable of.
No wonder she always made the best tips.
It didn’t hurt that she had the best smile out of all the waitresses either.
A snippet of conversation between the bartender and one of the newer waitresses, Susie, caught my attention: something about one of the customers being both Beauty and the Beast rolled into one.
Understandably confused, I turned to give them both a questioning look.
Susie’s response was to point over to the other side of the restaurant, to where the majority of Kate’s tables were.
There were two men seated at the table. I let my eyes drift over the first. Nice-looking guy.
Nothing remarkable. Nothing that would explain the gossip I’d just overheard.
I moved on to his dinner companion, my breath immediately catching in my throat.
Even in profile, it was hard to ignore the fact he was quite simply gorgeous.
I let my gaze run over his face, noting that his dark hair had the slightest bit of curl to it, and he had cheekbones to die for.
He was too far away for me to have a chance at discerning his eye color.
But I suddenly wanted to know it, more than anything else in the world.
Unable to tear my eyes away, I spoke to Susie without looking at her.
“Beauty…yes, but I don’t see where…” The man suddenly turned his head, and I understood—all too well.
Where the right side of his face was classically beautiful, the left side was a mass of scar tissue.
It stretched all the way from his forehead, down over the side of his face, to disappear into the collar of his shirt.
The contrast between the two sides was…well, there was no other word for it…
shocking. Not in a bad way, just in a way where you couldn’t help but stare.
And stare I did. For way too long. I was still staring when I realized the man was staring right back at me.
Embarrassed, I quickly looked away, almost running into the kitchen in my haste to be anywhere but in the dining room.
I was still in hiding when a panicked-looking Kate found me. “Dean, I don’t know what to do.”
I hustled her away into a quiet corner, away from the head chef’s scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”
“The sitter just called. My daughter’s throwing up…
not just like once…a few times. She doesn’t know whether to take her to the hospital…
or call a doctor. I should be there, not here.
What if she’s really ill? What if she’s been poisoned or something…
or…I asked if she’s got a temperature, but she’s not sure.
The sitter’s only nineteen. I don’t know what to do, Dean. ”
I grabbed her hands to stop her from literally wringing them.
“Shhh, listen. This is what you’re going to do.
You’re going to go straight home so you can look after your daughter.
I’ll explain to Graham that it was an emergency.
And if he doesn’t buy that, I’ll make some stuff up, you know embellish it a bit more.
Just make sure you call me before you next see him, so we can get our stories straight. ”
The look of relief on her face was immediate. “I will. Don’t worry.”
A shout of table thirty-four echoed from the busy kitchen’s pass. Kate stopped dead. “Shit! That’s one of mine. I need to—”
I gave her a gentle push in the opposite direction. “Go! I’ve got it. Don’t worry. I was getting bored with all this standing around anyway. Plus, I get extra tips. It’s win-win for me.” I grabbed the plate, backing through the doors of the kitchen before she could even think to protest.
It wasn’t until I was halfway across the restaurant floor that it suddenly dawned on me exactly which table, table thirty-four was.
I slowed down, trying to buy myself a bit more time before having to face the man I’d recently stared so rudely at.
Deciding the only option was to front it out, I approached the table with a friendly smile.
He looked up and I noted that the mystery eye color was green.
The seat opposite him was empty. I assumed his dinner companion had paid a visit to the bathroom.
I held the smile a touch longer than I needed to, before launching into my spiel. “Hi. My name’s Dean. I’m afraid your waitress has been unavoidably called away. Don’t worry though, I’ll be taking over, so just let me know if anything’s not up to standard, or if there’s anything else you need.”
The man froze. He didn’t speak. Just stared.
I shifted uncomfortably while his gaze ran all over me, like he was searching for something.
I knew I’d been rude earlier, but this seemed like a slight overreaction.
If his intention was to make me feel as awkward as I’d made him, he was succeeding admirably.
I decided to soldier on regardless. Stepping forward, I deposited the plate of food in front of him.
“There’s only one plate here. I’ll go and find out what’s happened to your…
” I gestured over to the empty seat, unsure of the correct label to use.
It had looked like a date: that slight awkwardness where two people who didn’t know each other that well sat together.
But, if that was my reasoning, it could just have easily been a business meeting. “…friend’s dinner.”
I attempted another smile. It died on my face. The man was still staring. Maybe he was trying to make a point, let me know how it felt to be stared at. Finally, he seemed to give himself a mental shake. “What did you say your name was?”
“Dean.”
He repeated the name, as if testing the sound of it on his tongue.
I glanced around the restaurant. “So, I’ll go and find out where your friend’s meal is.”
“I canceled it. He’s gone.”
“Sorry?”
“My…date…he left.”
My first instinct had been right then. It was a date. Good to know my gaydar was still in relatively good working order. “Oh! That’s unfortunate. Was it an emergency?” There were obviously a lot of them around recently.
He laughed. It pulled his face into a crooked smile, the scar tissue not reacting in the same way as the unblemished side of his face. “Not exactly.”
I waited.
He sighed. “Dating’s difficult. You know, when—” He waved a hand at the scarred side of his face as if that explained everything.
“If I use a current picture, I don’t get a date in the first place.
If I use an old picture…a picture from before…
then I get the date, but they usually come up with some sort of excuse to leave.
So, yes, apparently, it was an emergency.
” He shrugged, the gesture one of defeat.
“Maybe it was genuine…but I wouldn’t bet my house on it.
He didn’t leave his number, so I guess I won’t be seeing him again.
” He looked down at his plate. “But, I’m hungry.
I figured I’m here now, I may as well stay and eat.
It seems stupid to go home and cook.” He picked up his knife and fork.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I’m boring you with all the gory details.
I’m sure you’ve got better things to do. ”
“Oh!” I didn’t know what else to say. “I’ll leave you to eat in peace then.” I backed away from the table, narrowly avoiding walking into a customer on their way to the exit.
I’d served and cleared several other tables before it was time to return to table thirty-four.
A nagging guilt had been circling through my mind ever since I’d left there; a need to apologize for staring.
If I didn’t deal with it, I knew the guilt would follow me home.
I approached the table with faint trepidation, trying to decide the best way of approaching the subject. “How was your meal, sir?”
He pulled a face. “Don’t call me sir, please. Makes me feel ancient.”
“I’d need to know your name, sir, in order to call you by something other than that.
” The words came out before I could stop them.
It sounded like I was flirting. Was I flirting?
I wasn’t in the habit of trying to find out customers’ names.
I had to admit though, the more I looked at him, the less I noticed the scars, and the more I reverted back to my first impression of him as being absolutely gorgeous.
He hesitated. He was probably contemplating why on earth he’d want to share personal information with a waiter he was never going to see again.
Especially one that stared at him rudely.
Flushing slightly, I tried to backtrack to save him the embarrassment of having to shut me down.
“Sorry, I just meant…Actually, I don’t know what I meant.
Ignore me. It’s been a long day.” I took a deep breath.
Remembering why I was there, I set about clearing the table, keeping my gaze purposefully and studiously averted from the man who sat there.
“Can I interest you in the dessert menu?”
“Justin.”
“Sorry?” I raised my head, my gaze clashing with the green gaze of the man.
He smiled. “My name’s Justin. Now you don’t have to call me sir.”
I returned the smile, grateful for him trying to make me feel better. “Do you want the dessert menu, Justin?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I wouldn’t normally, but go on then, just this once.”
Covering Kate’s tables as well as my own, meant opportunities to take even so much as a ten second breather had been few and far between. I checked my watch. I had a break coming up in ten minutes. I could probably only afford to take five, but it was better than nothing.
The restaurant was starting to wind down, with some tables remaining blessedly empty and unlikely to be filled again before closing time.
I snuck a glance over to Justin’s table.
He was still working his way through the dessert I’d delivered to him a few minutes earlier: some sort of horrendously rich chocolate mousse.
I was surprised, after him saying he didn’t usually eat dessert, that he hadn’t send it back.
But, he seemed to be enjoying it. He lifted his head, meeting my gaze head-on.
Great! Now he’d caught me staring again, and I hadn’t even gotten around to apologizing for the first time.
I didn’t know whether to wave, nod, or run away again.
I was saved from having to decide when Susie appeared next to me.
She leaned in. “So, you two were very chatty.”
“Hmmm, what?”
She inclined her head toward the table I was doing my best to avoid looking at. “You and Beauty and the Beast.”
The name hit a nerve. “Don’t call him that! That’s a horrible name to give someone. You don’t know what caused it. Something horrible probably happened to him.”
She held both hands up in mock surrender. “Gee! Sorry. You know I don’t mean anything by it. Anyway, doesn’t change the fact you two seemed to be getting along well.”
“Not a crime is it, to be friendly?”
She smiled. “You’re awfully defensive. All I wanted to say is…if you like him, you should ask him out.”
I looked back over, noting the fact he’d finished his dessert. That meant I needed to go over there and collect his dish. “You think?”
Susie winked. “Sure. I mean if the”—she waved her hand in the direction of her face to illustrate her point— “doesn’t bother you, go for it.”
Her words rang in my ears, all the way over to the table. “How was it?”
He gave the same crooked smile as earlier.
“Sweet…but good.” He patted his stomach.
“I better not make a habit of it, though.” My gaze automatically traveled to where his hand rested, taking in what looked very much like washboard abs and a flat stomach.
Given the bulging biceps his shirt couldn’t hide, I’d bet anything there wasn’t an inch of fat lurking beneath his clothes, anywhere.
I pulled my gaze away with difficulty. “Listen, I just wanted to say…well, I should have said it earlier…that is, I wanted to say sorry. For staring at you. It was—”
“Which time?”
“What?”
“Which time? When you were staring at the beginning of the evening? Or just now?”
I didn’t know what to say. “I…”
He laughed at the expression on my face.
“I’m just winding you up. I’m used to it.
Don’t worry. You and half the restaurant have stared tonight.
It’s more unusual when people don’t do it.
I won’t pretend it’s easy, but it’s never going to go away, so”—he suddenly looked sad— “I’ve come to terms with it.
Well, most of the time…anyway.” He forced a smile. “I should be thanking you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“For talking to me. For being friendly. For acting surprised when my date ran off.”
“I was surprised! You probably had a lucky escape. If he’s that shallow that he can’t even be bothered to get to know you, he probably wasn’t worth dating anyway. He did you a favor.”
Justin sat back, regarding me with a strange expression on his face. “There you go again, making me feel better. You’re a nice guy, Dean. A really nice guy.”
I flushed at the compliment and automatically tried to brush it off. “Not really. Hopefully, you’ll have more luck with your next date. Just ask someone who’s not an idiot and I’m sure they’ll say yes.”
“Hopefully.”
I glanced around the restaurant. I still had two tables waiting to be cleared. “Well, I better go and…you know.” I backed away a step.
“Wait! Dean, one minute. So…your advice is to find someone nice. Someone friendly. Who’s not an idiot.
You figure if they’re that nice, they won’t turn me down.
Unless of course, there’s a good reason.
Like they’re not actually single.” I nodded, my gaze locked on his.
He picked up his serviette and began to fiddle with the corner.
“Okay. I’ll give that a try. Would you…I mean…
I don’t suppose—” He paused, before looking me straight in the eye.
“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime, Dean? I mean, assuming you don’t have a boyfriend. Which you probably do.”
My heart leapt. I didn’t even have to think about the answer. “Sure, I’d love to.”
The look of relief coupled with the crooked smile I got in response was everything.