4. Waitress

Elena

Sending Pablo the money did nothing but cripple me. I woke up the next morning under a cloud of depression that didn't lift even as I made my way to school.

It seemed like the heavens were in a similar opinion because the weather was gray and bleak. My shoulders slumped, and my lips turned downward as I sat on the bus, contemplating my life and where I had gone wrong.

Was it at the switch from eight years ago? Or was it with my job? 

The job paid well as a waitress, but if not for Pablo and his never-ending calls for money, I would have been in a different situation by now. But that wasn't the case.

This week however proved to be a ray of sunshine. With the extra money I made from betting and sending to Pablo, I would save up the rest and use part of it to buy groceries for the coming week.

As soon as I got off the bus, I was hit by fat droplets of rain. "Holy virgin, can't you spare me?" I muttered to myself.

I was already tired and exhausted from talking to Pablo and working my ass off over the weekend, so I attempted to take my time walking and risked getting soaked until I remembered that my laptop was in my backpack and ran.

The worst part about the rain wasn't the fact that it had come at this awkward time; it was that my faculty was quite far from the main university gate.

"Holy virgin, why me?" I asked, facing the sky. As though she could actually hear me, the rain soon reduced its intensity to a soft drizzle, allowing me to run straight to my classes.

My laptop wasn't wet. "Praise the Virgin," I whispered to myself. If it was wet, I would be a few steps shy of being pathetically hopeless.

Normally, my situation was quite hopeless, being that I was always next to broke, no thanks to Pablo. Adding a ruined laptop to the mix would be catastrophic.

I was glad when I found out that my professor had still not arrived. The man was normally early for class, the rain held him up somewhere.

Just a few minutes after I took my seat, the man walked into class with a frown on his face as he muttered under his breath. His anger would typically not affect anyone, so long as I was able to listen properly in class.

It was hopeless.

Professor Giovanni had been rambling on and on about one definition since the beginning of the class.

Knowing him, Professor Giovanni was the kind of man who liked to monopolize his students' time. This, of course, was bad for me, considering my shift started at the restaurant in a couple of hours.

At some point, I could barely understand the words he said, but a quick glance at the clock told me that my shift was fast approaching.

Nervously, I drummed my fingers on the table, hoping that he would speed up his academic rambles about why philosophy was more of a Roman thing than a Greek thing.

I looked around the class, hoping to find at least a few people who were equally as rushed as I was. There were, and I was glad to find them, but it didn't seem like we were capable of stopping the class. The only hope we had was to sit through his speech.

Finally, the man let us go, barely five minutes before the beginning of my shift at the restaurant. Of course, there was no way I was going to make it in time, considering the restaurant was located at the other end of the city. Still, I ran.

I ran like my life depended on it because it did. Even though I knew I was going to be late, I hoped that Giuseppe wouldn't be there to yell profanities at me.

After thirty minutes, I snuck into the restaurant, panting heavily. My breath was catching in my throat, and I felt like I would pass out.

Lucky for me, Giuseppe wasn't around. I made my way to the back of the restaurant, which served as a locker room, and quickly changed my clothes.

I wore the white shirt, black trousers, and tacky bowtie that served as the restaurant's uniform for waiters, before I tied the large black apron over it. I knew I looked ridiculous, but beggars can't be choosers.

I finger-combed my curly red hair and tried to tame it into a ponytail before I made my way out. My head was aching, and my hand contained little strands of my hair from combing it harshly, even though it was wet. But I needed to blend in and behave like I belonged there.

I struck another pot of luck as Giuseppe walked into the service entrance at the back as I was carrying my third plate from a table.

He scrutinized my appearance with his bulging brown eyes before he mumbled incoherently under his breath and shoved me aside. I was grateful to have dodged a bullet for now.

The peace in the restaurant kitchen didn't last long, as we could all feel the tension like crackling energy at our feet, slowly rising to our heads by the minute.

Giuseppe was snapping at everything and everyone. Being conscious of this, I purposely hid every time I saw him approaching. Of course, this meant that another poor soul would be at the receiving end of his loud grumbles.

Just as I was trying to avoid being his subject of bullying once again, I edged into the dining area and started walking to the outdoor area of the restaurant where I spotted a few empty cups.

Not wanting to be found idle, I walked over to inspect them but found that they were empty, save for one. I quickly grabbed the cup and turned around. Bad timing. A wave of dizziness hit me and dark spots filled my vision as I found the ground getting closer.

The ground stopped as I hung midair. A large arm was snaked around my waist dangerously close to my breasts.

"Are you okay?" I heard the familiar voice of Damon ask, his breath tickling my ears and sending a jolt down my spine. My eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations in his chest threatened to send me to sleep.

No! I have work to do, I thought, placing a hand on his muscled chest and pushing slightly. He didn't budge. With a frown on my face, I pushed again, but that only made him laugh.

His laughter was like music to my ears, and I found myself wanting to hear more of it, along with other endearing sounds he could produce.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, bringing his lips close to my ears. I bobbed my head up and down, not trusting the words that would come out of my mouth.

My words would probably sound something like, "Can you do that again? Your arms are so warm. Can you hold me like that again? You have such a lovely laugh." I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts, which made him frown.

"So, you are not okay," he concluded, his expression concerned.

When did I give him that impression?

I shook my head again, unable to find it in my heart to speak actual words. He must have thought there was something wrong with me, given how I kept shaking or nodding my head like a lizard.

Swallowing hard, I pushed at his chest with a bit more force, signaling that I wanted him to let me go which he did.

Feeling suddenly cold without his warmth, I brought my arms up to my chest to shield myself from the loss of his body against mine. This was not the time to have attachment issues. Immediately, I turned around and ran back into the kitchen without saying thank you.

Breathe woman, breathe.

I took a couple of moments to catch my breath, and just as I was about to return to work, I bumped into my overly enthusiastic manager, Giuseppe. He looked at me with anger.

"Are you blind?" he asked me, startling another waitress who was carrying a plate of pasta. Worried, I looked over to her before glancing back at him, relieved to see she didn't drop the plate.

"Is this something more important?" he asked as he steadily increased his volume. I shook my head and kept my eyes to the floor.

He switched to Italian and rained a barrage of insults at me, ranging from how blind I was to how ugly I was with my freckles and red hair.

He called me a tomato and a carrot at the same time, such that I struggled to understand whether or not he hated red altogether. He raised his voice again, and I was scared that the customers outside would hear him.

Just as I was about to silently protest, the door to the kitchen swung open, revealing Damon.

"You're making it difficult for me to eat in peace," he said with a low and calm voice.

I peeked up, hoping to catch Giuseppe's expression, only to find him with his cheeks flushed and his mouth open.

After a moment, he muttered an apology and told me to get back to work. I turned and scurried deeper into the kitchen. Now I owe Damon another thank you.

I didn't dare go back out into the main dining area until I was sure that he had left. Once I was, I was able to move freely. Work didn't end until 8:00 that evening, and it was only because it was a slow day. The streets were not deserted, but on the contrary, there were too many people.

Finding a bus would prove to be difficult among the crowd, so I decided to walk until I could find a cab.

Granted, getting a cab would leave a massive hole in my pocket, but I didn't have much of a choice. I walked some distance away from the bus station, in a general direction towards my apartment, and found nothing. All the cabs I tried to hail were full, and even the empty ones wouldn't stop for me.

Blessed Virgin, why me? 

Just as I was about to completely give up hope and walk the whole journey home, I heard a car stop beside me and a familiar voice.

"Get in," Damon said.