The Bet

4) Diner

  I knew my hopes did not come true when the beautiful lady from a week ago walked back into the diner, without the boys, and at lunch time this time. To make everything worse, she sat herself in my section.

  I bit my lip. Attractive people have always made me nervous — Not to mention, people that are know to be in a gang — and now I have to wait on one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on — who also happens to be in a gang.

Great.

"Good evening, ma'am. What'll you have to drink?" I practically whispered as my hand holding the pen shook.

  I think she might make me even more nervous than the guys she orders around.

"Hi, Samira," she shot me an easy smile, meanwhile I almost started choking on my own spit because she remembered my name. "I'll have a cherry-lemon iced tea, please."

. . . I love cherry-lemon iced tea too.

It's meant to be —

GET IT TOGETHER, SAM!

Sorry, Sam.

Maybe I should see a therapist. . .

"I'll be right out with that, ma'am." I gave her the same practiced smile I used to give the guys back when they made me want to shit my pants around them.

"Thanks, Dear," She glanced up from her menu to tell me, but her eyes lingered a little longer than what I think is normal.

  My palms started to sweat under the attention. I took it upon myself to break eye contact and scurry to the back as quickly, but as coolly as possible.

  Judging by the way I caught her fighting an amused grin down at her menu when I glanced back through the window though, I failed miserably.

~~~~~~

  "Here's your food, ma'am." I shakily placed her sandwich on the table and immediately made a break for it.

  "So, do you like working here, Sam?"

  My converse screeched to a halt, hopefully covering up my small sigh at her question.

She's stopped me to chit chat three times already. I'm not annoyed, she's so polite and honestly intriguing. I'm just awkward. I'd probably enjoy our talks a lot more if I didn't feel like melting into a puddle every time she unleashed that sultry tone on me.

  I don't think this woman is capable of speaking in any tone other than sexy.

  It's making me sweat, and that is not attractive.

  Not that I want her to think I'm attractive. I don't really care. Why would I care? She's just a random mafia princess that came to the diner I work at and sat alone in my section. Nothing significant or alluring about her —

  "Samira?"

  I zoned back in after the goddess called my name.

  Oops.

  "Sorry," I shook my head aggressively. "I zoned out a little there, haha."

  God, WHY did I just laugh like that?

  She chuckled quietly.

  Great, she noticed, that's so embarrassing.

  "Your awkward laugh is so cute."

  My brain went fuzzy for a second, having to work hard to compute.

  I don't think it's safe for my face to be this hot. Am I running a fever?