Chapter One #2
“I’ve settled.”
John looks up from his stack of papers, and I notice that he does not have a laptop in here.
“Good. I have a small task for you today, but after that, you’ll have an article to take care of on your own,” he says, and my eyebrows practically meet my hairline.
“Really? Already?” When he gives me an assessing look, I try again. “I’m happy for it, don’t misunderstand. I’m just shocked you’d put so much trust in me so quickly.”
Slowly, a grin spreads across John’s time-worn face. He shakes his head slightly.
“I’ve seen your resume; I’ve checked your references. I trust you. Plus, this job requires a handsome man.”
“S-sorry?” I stutter, dropping into the chair opposite him on the other side of his desk. He laughs, a loud, hearty sound.
“Surely this isn’t news to you. Tall, blond, soft features. I’m sure all the girls hit on a young man like yourself.”
“Ah, thank you, sir.” I almost wince at the awkward sound of my own voice. “But what does this have to do with the paper?”
“There is a local here in Fort Myers—a photographer,” John starts, leaning back in his chair. “He’s incredibly talented. In fact, he has recently won a national photography competition, and I’d like to cover it in the paper.”
I’m nodding, writing all of this down on my notepad.
“Okay. So you want me to interview him, then?” I fill in the blanks, and John nods.
“Yes, but he’s very… reclusive. In fact, many of the locals tend to avoid him because he’s… well, he’s a bit shy. If he’s not grocery shoppin’, we don’t see him. And the people here are very involved.”
So he’s a socially awkward photographer? And that’s enough to get himself on the blacklist? Man, these locals might be bigger dicks than I am.
“So,” John continues. “I need you to wield those kind hazel eyes and get him to answer some questions. You’ll have to go to his house; he won’t answer the phone.”
In the same conversation, John has implied that women must be all over me, then asked me to seduce a man. He is a very confusing old man.
But at the same time, as someone who doesn’t feel too much, rejection isn’t something that scares me. I’ll go to that man’s house every day until he answers my damn questions.
I give John a confident nod and say, “I can do that. I’ll go first thing tomorrow.”
I spend most of the day editing part of an article John had written about the upcoming fall festival. When five o’clock rolls around, he shoos me out, telling me to come back in the morning for the interview questions.
Which is all well enough; I’m starving and in need of a hot meal fast. No time like the present to try out the local cuisine, right? I find my way to the diner across the square.
Tabithia’s Place looks to be a classic American diner, complete with red leather booths and the ability to see half of the kitchen staff from your seat. There’s a sign by the door that reads “Please wait to be seated,” but a deep, sweet voice calls out moments after I walk in.
“Sit anywhere ya like!” I can’t find the source of the voice, so I find my way to a booth by the doors and plop down, grabbing a menu off the condiment rack.
Burgers, hot dogs, chicken-fried steak, and milkshakes. I think I even see fried okra. Yep—typical American diner.
A roll of silverware is placed next to me, alongside a cup of water.
“Can I get you anything else to drink?” That voice—a sweet, low timbre sounds from right next to me. I look to find a man, probably around my age, wearing an apron and an insanely charming grin.
“Sweet tea,” I say, although I can’t remember the last time I had it.
“Sure thing,” the waiter responds, turning on his heel and walking away. The blue jeans he’s wearing are really doing wonders for his ass, and the grey shirt that has the diner logo on it is hugging his biceps like he’ll fall apart without its support.
When he returns with my drink, I realize I’ve spent the entire time staring at him instead of reading the menu.
“Are you new to Fort Myers?” he asks.
“I am. What gave me away?”
He shakes his head lightly. “Nothing. I just know damn near everyone, and I definitely wouldn’t forget this face.”
Is he flirting with me right now?! The mild thrill that comes along with flirting or hooking up flows through me, and I bat my lashes at him, playing up those kind hazel eyes, as John would say.
“I have been told I’m unforgettable,” I tease.
The waiter chuckles, a deep and rich sound, his blond hair falling onto his forehead from where it has escaped the baseball cap he’s wearing.
“I’m sure you have. Decide what you want yet?” It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the menu in my hand.
When I finally piece the two together, I ask him, “What do you recommend?”
He hums, considering the question, but his eyes never leave mine. Blue eyes drilling into me like he’s getting an impressive read of my person and refuses to be interrupted.
“I’ll give you an excellent recommendation. But only if you give me your name,” he finally offers, and I can feel the grin as it spreads over my lips. I watch his eyes light up in real time.
“Elijah,” I tell him, and he makes an appreciative sound.
“Well, Elijah, I recommend you have the chicken salad sandwich with our steak fries. It’s my favorite.”
I return the menu to the condiment rack, turning back to give him another easy smile.
“Sign me up…” I trail off, leaving room for him to fill in the blanks for me.
“Bennett.” He grins. “My name is Bennett.”
“Thanks for the recommendation, Bennett. I’ll let you know what I think.”
With a nod and a blush, he turns on his heel and walks away once again. This could be very fun.
I’ve never been a good contender for relationships—for obvious reasons—but for flirting?
Fooling around? I’m great. I don’t get attached or easily embarrassed, and I know my way around a man.
Maybe Bennett can manage to keep me entertained for the duration of my stay here in Fort Myers—however long that may be.
Tabitha’s Place gets pretty busy after my order is taken, so other than dropping off my food, I don’t get to interact with the hot waiter much. But all is well—I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future.
I pay my tab, leave him a little smiley face on the receipt, and leave the diner.
I’m lying in bed later that night, listening to the sound of the sudden rainstorm hitting my window, when I remember I have a mission tomorrow. I’m curious to meet the odd local, to see what he’ll be like. In my head, I imagine an old man like John, but grumpier.
I can charm him, I’m sure of it. I mean, I charmed Bennett within seconds, didn’t I?
Right. It’ll be easy. Tomorrow, I’ll get that interview.