Rowan
I stride over with a bright smile to my high top table of four drunk assholes. approaching them with a tray of draft beers, setting them down one by one. The dark fluorescent lighting in here has my eyelids feeling heavy. I pulled a double tonight to cover my electric bill and then I’ll be all caught up.
“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you bring us a round of Jameson shots too.” The one younger man says. He looks about my age and he might even be attractive if he didn’t open his mouth.
“Sorry guys. I actually have to cut you off after the beers. It's a policy.” I say politely.
“Fuck that! You’re a waitress not a policy enforcer. Bring us another round.” The older man to the left of him slurs .
I take a breath trying to compose myself. I’ve had enough of this table tonight. “Look, I’m sorry but I literally cannot serve you anymore. The POS system won’t let me ring it–”
“Either shut the fuck up or get us a drink.” He cuts me off.
I stand there for a moment, holding myself back from throwing his drink in his face when a man walks up and steps in front of me, whispering something in the drunk guy’s ear.
I can't help but stare at him. He’s incredibly tall, towering over the man with a presence that is hard to ignore. His skin is a rich tan that contrasts his bright green eyes. But what really catches my eye are his tattoos. They cover his arms, peeking out from the collar and sleeves of his impeccably tailored suit.
“Miss?” He says, his voice deep and rugged.
“I– I’m sorry what?”
“They’re ready for their bill.” He informs me, his tall form towering over me .
“We’re really sorry and this won’t happen again.” The younger man says, his face red with embarrassment. Or maybe fear?
I pick up the last of their glasses off of the table and take my receipts to the manager to cash out for the night.
“I hope those dickheads at that four top tipped you good.” My manager, Greg says, counting up my money.
“Nah, but whoever the guy was that said something to them left a benjamin on the table. I watched him slip it there when they left.” I laugh. Whoever he was, I hope he plans on coming back.
“Yeah, Andrea was serving him. Said he had his eyes on you the whole night and only ordered one drink.” Greg replies.
“He’s hot. Looked a little out of place though.” I say casually. “Well, time for me to get the hell out of here. I have a date with my couch and an episode of Dexter that I’m running late for.