Promise Me (10 page)

“Dude, I can’t believe she heard us,” I heard one of them say around their laugher, and then I was too far away to hear whatever they said next.

“How did it go?” Kirby asked me when I ran into her in the kitchen. She was waiting for an order, and I saw that one of mine was ready.

I loaded the two plates onto my tray as I realized that the burger for one of my customers was paired with fries when it should have been partnered with onion rings.

“Hey Marco,” I said to the kitchen manager who was on the other side of the line. “This is supposed to have onion rings.”

“Sorry, Kate,” he said as he looked at the plate. “Give me three minutes.”

I nodded, and then I turned to Kirby. “It was fine.”

“So Pete didn’t hit on you?” she asked me skeptically.

I shook my head. “No, he did, but it’s not like it’s the first time that’s ever happened.”

“Yeah, but he’s a total jerk.”

“He is,” I agreed, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, then they can sit in your section from now on. I’m not all that interested in Logan hitting on me and grabbing my ass again.”

My eyes got wide. “He grabbed your ass?”

“Once. I threatened to call the cops on him if he did it again. He laid off after that, but he still flirted his ass off whenever I served them. He’s the one who has a thing for redheads. One time he even had the balls to ask me if my carpet matched my drapes.”

“Logan? Really? He seemed kind of nice.”

She shrugged. “I guess he got a girlfriend over the summer – a redhead, ironically – so maybe he’s calmed down. I don’t know. I guess I’ve just dealt with them too many times over the past few years. I’m over it.”

“Then I’ll serve them,” I told her. “I’m good at fending off idiots. I’ve been doing it for years.”

Kirby smiled as Marco passed me the side of onion rings I was missing. “Tell them they can keep the fries,” he told me.

I nodded. “Will do. Thanks Marco.”

Two hours later, I was wondering when Pete and Logan and their friends were going to leave. They were nothing if not exhausting to serve, and things only got worse as they drank more beer. I was starting to dread going over to their table. I’d already been asked out three times – twice by the same guy – and each time I stopped by, they tried to keep me there by asking me questions about my personal life that I’d started to answer with as few details as possible.

When they asked for another round of beers when I was thinking they were going to ask for the check, I sighed to myself, wishing I could drink on the job.

As I was ringing in their round, someone came up behind me and stood there. I figured it was another server, but when I turned around to look, I was surprised to see Jack.

“Did you need some more sweet tea?” I asked him.

I didn’t mean to sound condescending, but it sort of came out that way.

He smiled. “No, I think I’m good,” he said, patting his stomach. “I’m pretty sure I hit my limit with the four I’ve had, and I have to drive home. Better sober up before I do that.”

I was relieved to hear he was joking.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t serve you,” I told him. “I promise it wasn’t personal. I just don’t want to get fired within my first few weeks of working here.”

“It’s cool. I really didn’t feel like drinking today anyway. We’ve just got this standing Sunday football thing, and Logan, my cousin, wanted me to come. So I came.”

“I get it,” I said as I felt his gaze intensify.

Within seconds my skin felt flushed all over, and all I wanted to do was look away, because I didn’t want him to know he was affecting me. But it was like I couldn’t break eye contact with him.

“How did you know who I was?” he suddenly blurted out. “Seriously, it’s been bugging me.”

As soon as he said that, and I saw how flustered he seemed, I instantly relaxed. The intensity in his gaze was still there, but it was laced with an insecurity that he didn’t usually exude. It was like he was used to being in control, and it totally bugged the shit out of him that he wasn’t in this case. To me it just made him seem more human.

I watched him for a few seconds, making him sweat it out and wondering if the answer would come to him, but realization never crossed his face. A part of me figured I could mess with him and refuse to tell him, but I wasn’t really one for playing games. And that honestly felt kind of cruel. I decided to just tell him.

“We’re neighbors. And we have a class together.”

“Oh, shit!” he said after several seconds of pondering what I’d said. I watched him smack his hand against his forehead adorably and smiled. “I
do
know you. We’ve actually had a conversation before, haven’t we?”

He looked incredibly apologetic as he dropped his hand.

I nodded. “We sure have.”

“Damn, I’m sorry. I’m not so great with remembering people, I guess. I can sort of get tunnel vision.”

“It’s fine. It wasn’t that significant of a conversation.”

“Yeah, but that was crappy of me. And now that I think about it, you even
look
familiar. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together before.”

“You have a hard time remembering things, and you’re pre-med?” I questioned, wanting to lighten the mood. He seemed so guilty, when in reality, it wasn’t that big of a deal that he hadn’t remembered me.

Jack laughed, but he looked puzzled at the same time. “How did you know I was pre-med?  Did we talk about that?”

“Cullen,” I told him. “He comes over a lot, and he likes to talk.”

“Right. Got it,” he said, somewhat suggestively.

“No,” I corrected him quickly. “It’s not like that. We’re friends, I guess, but we’re definitely not sleeping together.”

“Well, that’s too bad. He’s a good guy.”

“I’m sure he is. I just don’t date frat guys.”

Jack stared at me for a few seconds like I’d just told him I liked to snack on beetles. “You don’t date frat guys?”

“Nope.”

“Like at all?” he asked, sounding appalled.

I wondered if he found it as odd as I did that we were all of a sudden having a casual conversation like we knew each other. But for some reason, he was easy to talk to.

“Never,” I told him.

“Like you have a blanket policy that says you can’t date a guy just because he’s in a fraternity?” he questioned, not seeming to believe that I was serious.

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Does that include business fraternities too, or are you just a social frat hater?”

“Social fraternities. And I’m not a hater exactly,” I defended. “I just don’t think I’d mesh well with a guy in a frat.”

“Because we’re all the same?” he questioned. “Trust me, we’re not. And please don’t look at Pete as your basis for what we’re all like. Yes, he’s the president of Sigma Delt, but we all think he’s a dick too.”

“That sounds like a great reason to hang out with him and follow his leadership,” I said, unable to hide the snark in my tone.

Jack smiled. “He’s not always a dick, and he’s actually a good leader. He just doesn’t always know how to relate to people. He means well – most of the time.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I told him, because there was no question in my mind that Pete was a flat-out jerk
all
of the time.

“My point is,” Jack continued, “we’re not all like him.
I’m
not like him, and I think you can see that based on the fact that I can carry on a civilized conversation with you without checking out your ass or your chest or asking you out.”

“Um, sure,” I said, confused as to what point he was trying to make.

“And maybe I’m being presumptuous, but it sort of feels like we’re meshing pretty well.”

“Are we?” I questioned, just because it felt like I should. In reality, it was nice to know that I wasn’t alone in feeling so comfortable talking to a virtual stranger. “Because I’d consider the fact that you couldn’t even remember who I was as the exact opposite of meshing.”

Yeah, I went there, because it was a
really
valid point.

“Yeah, okay. You got me there,” Jack said jovially. “But I really am a good guy – at least I like to think I am.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Why did I find it so endearing that he wanted to prove to me that he was a good person?

“Look, you might not believe me, but I promise you that the next time I see you, I’ll walk up to you and say, ‘Hello, Kate. How are you today?’”

I chuckled. “And that’s how I’ll know that you’re a good guy?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “The point is, I’ll remember you, and that’s better than I did this time.”

“Okay, fine,” I said, cutting him a break. “I think that sounds great.”

“Then you can plan on it.”

“I will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to the kitchen to check on an order for another table.”

“Yeah, no worries. I guess I’ll see you when you bring our next round out.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said sarcastically.

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry about how my friends have been acting. Being sober today has made me see things in a whole new light, and I’m suddenly realizing that they’re kind of arrogant and irritating when they drink.”

“They’re alright,” I told him, because it felt like I should.

He shook his head and smiled. “No, they’re jerks, and I’m sorry they keep hitting on you. It’s probably really annoying for you. I know it is for me, and I’m not the one getting hit on.”

“It’s fine, Jack,” I told him, not wanting to make a big deal about something relatively trivial, even if it was annoying. I could handle annoying.

“It’s really not,” he insisted. “I’ll make sure they stop.”

“Really?”

“Sure. You’ve been an awesome server today. They’ve harassed you enough, and they can cut it out.”

“You promise?” I questioned teasingly, wondering if he really had that kind of pull, being the youngest guy in the group. But if he did, I was going to be grateful as hell. “Because it would kind of make my day if they stopped. It’s been a bit of a daunting afternoon serving you guys.”

Jack faltered for a second as I said that, and my smile slowly faded. He blinked a few times, and I wasn’t sure what was happening. Had I said something wrong?

“Hey, I’m sorry,” I told him quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend you or your friends or anything. I was just joking.”

He shook his head, still looking bewildered. “I, uh, I’m not offended.”

“Are you okay?” I asked him, and after a few seconds his eyes snapped back into focus.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I’m good.”

“Okay, because you sort of looked like you spaced out for a minute.”

“I, um, no. I’m good. I’m fine.”

“Okay, well, I’m glad to hear it. Tell your friends I’ll be back with their drinks in a few minutes.”

Jack still looked a little stunned as he said, “Yeah, sure. I will. Thanks.”

“No sweat,” I told him, wondering what was wrong with him.

We’d been having a normal conversation, and then all of a sudden it was like a switch had flipped. Maybe I shouldn’t have insulted him, even though I really had been joking – a little.

Fortunately I didn’t have the time to dwell on it, because I got two new tables at the same time that I had to attend to, and the rest of the afternoon continued in a blur. Jack and his friends stayed until the end of the Cowboys game, and then they left, but true to what he’d said, they stopped hitting on me. In fact, they were like model customers for the rest of the day, and I decided they weren’t so bad after all.

I actually decided that when I saw that the tip they left me was almost forty percent of their bill. If that’s how they treated servers, then they could sit in my section any time. Of course, Jack had paid their tab, so maybe it was just his way of further apologizing for what I’d had to endure for the first two hours they were there. Either way, I was beyond grateful.

I wasn’t sure why, but before I slid the signed credit card slip into the register, I looked down at the name of the card. Jonathan Kinsley. I guess Jack was a nickname, but I liked it. It suited him. He looked like a Jack.

I smiled to myself, but when I realized what I was doing, I forced myself to push the image of him from my mind. I knew he had a girlfriend. I shouldn’t be thinking any of the things that I was in that moment, but there was just something about him that drew me in. And it wasn’t just that he was cute. It was how easy he was to talk to and how sweet he seemed. I hadn’t met a guy like that in a long time. Of course it was just my luck that he was already taken.

* * *

By the time my shift ended, I was ready to go home and put my feet up. Maybe I’d start watching
Friday Night Lights
and zone out for a few hours with some takeout Chinese food. That might make for the perfect Sunday night.