Chapter 15 Olivia
“Order slips go up here, and yell ‘ORDER, TABLE FIVE or whatever — just to make sure the kitchen knows, okay?”
I nod.
“Then Carlos or whoever’s in the kitchen will ring the bell when the order’s up. And don’t leave plates under the lights for more than three minutes. Got it?”
I nod again, wiping sweaty palms on my new Beach House apron. “Got it.”
“And Hayley took you through the point-of-sale protocols already?”
“Yes. I think I’m good. I can give it a shot. I’m bound to come up with questions as I go, but I’ll ask.”
Juliette gives me a reassuring shoulder pat.
“Absolutely. Ask Hayley or Kevin. Deborah’s fairly new.
She only started last week, so maybe don’t bug her.
” She gives me an assessing look. “I’ll be in the office doing the books, if there’s an emergency.
But I’m sure you’ll do fine. Better to start you this weekend than next, considering how busy it will be for Fourth of July.
We get a lot of tourists coming to Wilmington for the holiday. ”
“I’m sure you do.”
I’m lying to this lovely woman, by omission.
Of course I know about the tourists, I’ve lived in the area my whole life.
But Mom told her I was a relative from out of town who needed a job and somehow didn’t have a Social Security number.
I have no idea how Mom got Juliette to trust that I wasn’t some criminal on the run or something, but she did.
And Juliette has been unfathomably accommodating, agreeing to pay me a lower-than-usual hourly rate, in return for it being cash only, at least until Labor Day weekend.
I’m determined to make myself indispensable to Juliette in that time — it’s not like there are many other places, if any, that will give me an under-the-table job without asking questions.
I slip between tables to where the platinum-blonde Hayley and a tall, skinny, Black man in his mid-twenties, presumably Kevin, are talking. I wait for a pause in the younger servers’ conversation.
“You think it’ll get busy tonight?” I ask them with my friendliest smile.
Hayley shrugs coolly as Kevin turns to me with a slight sneer. “Olivia, right?” His tone is icy.
“That’s me. Liv,” I tell him, showing him my new name badge. “You’re Kevin? Nice to meet you.”
“Sure.” He turns back to Hayley, his back toward me, and resumes their conversation.
Wow. A warm welcome.
I move away, busying myself by grabbing an order pad and pen. A fourth server is putting on her apron by the bar. Behind me, Hayley and Kevin snicker unkindly.
Are they laughing at me?
The other woman, who’s maybe in her mid-fifties, her hair a fiery red fading to grayish-brown at the roots, steps over.
“I’m so glad not to be the new girl anymore!
” she exclaims with a crooked grin. “I’m Deb.
I’ve only been here a week. What’s your name?
” She squints at my name badge, fumbling for the reading glasses around her neck.
“Hi, Deb. I’m Liv. Great to meet you. I hope you’ve gotten the hang of this, because I may have questions.”
She waves away my concerns. “Of course, sugar, ask me anything. It’s a piece of cake. I’ve been a waitress for thirty years, and it ain’t no different here ’n anywhere else. Where did you work before?”
Crap. I should’ve thought through a convincing back story that doesn’t clash with what Mom told Juliette.
“Uh, just little coffee shops, mostly. Not any big restaurants like this.” That’s true, at least. I did work at two popular downtown coffee shops while at design school.
“Nice! Anywhere I’d know?”
“Probably not,” I lie.
Deb nods, still smiling, waiting for a further explanation about where I’ve worked or where I’m from.
I smile back, unable to offer her more. The restaurant door opens and Hayley scurries to the front desk. “Guess we’d better get started,” I say. “I’ll grab you if I need help?”
“Don’t hesitate. Good luck.” Deb pats me on the arm reassuringly.
At least she’s friendly, and Juliette is, too. It’d be nice if the younger servers were more welcoming, as I don’t have any friends here. Another major problem in this new reality.
Aside from Jake, I have a small but tight friendship circle in the world I left behind.
Jake’s brother Ed and his wife Annabelle, my fabulous best friend Nicole, whom I met in design school, and Sara, my oldest friend from high school and her partner, Ben.
We all hung out as a group, meeting up weekly.
Now there’s nobody.
I created fake Instagram and Facebook profiles a few days ago, after my visit from Adam Banks reminded me how few friends I have in this world.
Not to try to befriend any of them again, but simply to be able to see where they all are now.
After all, I had been the one to encourage the self-doubting Nic into realizing her dream of launching a size-inclusive fashion line when we were in our early twenties.
Would she have done that anyways, without me telling her how amazing and talented she was?
It seems not. I looked up her company website and her label’s Insta handle, and I couldn’t find either.
Nic’s personal Instagram feed was there, but from the captions it looks like she’s now a buyer for a retail clothing chain.
And what about Jake’s brother? I swear if I hadn’t helped him create his Match.com profile, four years ago, pushing him to go out on real dates, he might never have met Annabelle.
And, true enough, when I checked, stalking his Facebook page, there are photos of him with a dark-haired woman I don’t recognize.
Guess he’s with someone else in this world.
Like Jake.
It both horrifies and somewhat thrills me that I’ve had such an effect on these people’s lives. These people who, in this alternate timeline, don’t even know I exist.
Shaking my head, I force my thoughts to the present, focusing on my new job as the restaurant fills up with noisy tourists and locals.
I smile my way through various mistakes, occasionally grabbing Deb for advice or help, even though Hayley and Kevin are far more knowledgeable about this restaurant’s protocols.
They’ve been nothing but frosty to me, so I’m not about to give them the satisfaction.
The work is fun, though, and I soon pick it up. The customers are largely friendly and happy, exuding their good vacation vibes, and through their chatter making me a part of their beach experience. The tips are generous and, the more I smile, the bigger they seem to get.
I kinda like it here. And Deb is fun and kind.
I could imagine becoming friends with her, grabbing drinks after work, even if she is more Mom’s age.
Maybe I can make it work here, in this life.
Make some new friends, earn enough to rent a small studio somewhere.
Maybe Juliette will keep me on after Labor Day, if I reassure her that I’ll stick around, unlike her more transient summer workers. Maybe. Or am I being delusional?
Halfway through my six-hour shift, around 8:30 p.m., most of the customers in my section are eating happily and one of my tables has just been cleared.
As I grab a few minutes behind the bar to hydrate and rest for a moment, Kevin and Hayley’s laughter peals out loudly from the front desk.
I glance across. They’re talking with a tall, golden-haired couple who’ve just walked in, and they are evidently on friendly terms with the newcomers.
Kevin moves aside as Hayley leads the couple over to my section, the only free table, and I nearly drop my water bottle.
Jake.
Of course Jake would come in on the first day of my new job.
Looking handsome in a white linen shirt and blue jeans.
Holding the hand of some willowy blonde in her early twenties.
Oh, Christ, is that Savannah?
It has to be. She’s gorgeous. The model girlfriend Charlotte told me about.
Hayley sits them at my free table, handing them each a menu. She chats with them again for a moment, laughing at some unknown joke. The blonde is laughing with Hayley, but Jake is grim-faced, staring at his menu. As Hayley leaves them, the blonde says something to Jake. He shakes his head.
This is the point I’m supposed to go over to my new customers with glasses of ice water and introduce myself as their server, asking if they want drinks to start.
I can’t do it.
I grab Deb’s arm as she returns with some dirty plates. “Deb. I need help. Please, switch tables with me. You take the new couple, they’re bordering your section anyways, and I’ll do your family with the bratty kids.”
She looks over at Jake and Savannah, a crease on her brow. “Sure, but why? Your new table looks way better than my family.”
I grimace. “It’s my ex and his new girlfriend. It’s super awkward, I can’t do it.”
Deb smiles at me kindly, patting my arm. “Say no more. I got you.”
“You’re a lifesaver. You can have all the tips from the family table, too.”
Deb sashays between the tables to look after Jake and Savannah, all smiles and welcomes, while I turn to her family table with three under-tens.
The kids are making a spectacular mess on the floor with their fries, but it’s totally worth having to clear that up if it means not facing Jake and his girlfriend.
“How are we doing over here? Need more ketchup?” I ask the family, half-watching Deb in my section.
Jake’s gaze flicks from his menu up to Deb, then over to me. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me. I flush and turn back to the parents, who are barking requests for ice cream sundaes and more drinks.
“You got it,” I tell them, trying to muster a dazzling smile that’s more for Jake’s benefit than theirs.
Kevin is at the kitchen counter as I put in the order. “Swapped tables with Deb, I see?” he comments with a curl of his lip.
Why is this guy being so mean?
“Yeah, I wanted to take the family off her hands, she’s got a busier section than me,” I lie.
“Oh, is that right? Not because you didn’t want to serve Jake and Savannah?”
I frown at him.
How could he possibly have figured out I know Jake?
“Hayley is Savannah’s cousin,” he continues, answering my unasked question.
“Hayley heard all about this woman called Olivia who’s been claiming to be Jake’s long-dead childhood friend and how they’re supposed to get married, and some such bullshit.
We’ve been talking about it for weeks. Didn’t take us three minutes to figure out it was you when you showed up today. I’m not wrong, am I?” He sneers at me.
I catch my breath, taking a moment to respond. So that’s why he and Hayley are being so mean. “My personal life is none of your business,” I tell him, giving my tone a chilliness that matches his. “Excuse me.”
I turn back to my order, my pulse racing. That’s what Kevin and Hayley were laughing about with Savannah at the door.
Me — the weird woman who thinks she’s a dead girl.
Yet Jake hadn’t been laughing.
I grab my family’s fresh drinks from the bar, glancing over to Jake’s table. Savannah is talking about something, her manicured hands gesturing, her gaze on the water view outside.
Jake’s eyes are on me.
I turn back, serving the family, then checking on my other tables, studiously avoiding looking over to Jake and Savannah for the next hour.
After they’ve paid up, Jake quickly disappears outside while Savannah talks with Hayley for a few minutes at the door.
Occasionally, they glance over at me as I clear the last of my tables, bringing empty glasses back to the bar.
Hayley and Savannah part but, instead of leaving, Savannah steps over to where I’m stacking glasses. She stops a few feet from me.
“Hi. I’m Savannah.”
I freeze, a glass in each hand, my eyes wide as I turn to her.
“You’re Olivia, right?” she continues. “Look, I don’t want to be a bitch here, I really don’t.
But I know you approached my boyfriend a couple weeks ago with some story about how you’re his childhood sweetheart and you and he are supposed to be engaged, or something.
I honestly have no idea what that’s about, but I just want to make something clear to you.
” She pauses to look me straight in the eye.
“Jake and I are together, and we’re happy, okay?
So I figure . . . you should probably stay away from both of us.
And we won’t come eat here again. We wouldn’t have even come tonight if we’d known you were working here, as it’s super awkward. Cool?”
I nod, dumbly. She’s actually being relatively nice.
“Great,” she says. “You take it easy. And watch out for Hayley. She’s my cousin, but she can be kind of a mean girl.”
Savannah turns and glides elegantly out of the restaurant, Hayley watching us from afar.
I give Hayley a brilliant smile, and turn back to my task.
I want to cry.