Sea Glass (WAYHAUGHT)

Seriously

Waverly delivered the wine bottle in her hand to Table 6. Its bottom made a dull clonking sound as it hit the wooden surface. From that moment on, everyone in the restaurant blurred into the background, except Chrissy, the only person Waverly was now focused on. The pair stepped away from the door, narrowing the gap between them.

"Sorry," the bride-to-be said, voice wobbling. "We have a reservation, near the window." Her eyes darted to where one table was currently empty. "Eight o'clock."

"This bottle needs opening," the woman on Table 6 informed.

"Can we have a menu?" another called out.

A third waved their hand in the air. "Bill please."

Waverly turned on her heels. "She's here," she said, entering the kitchen. "The bitch who wrote the review. She's back."

Nicole stopped stirring. "Put them on Table 3. There's a bottle of champagne chilling."

Waverly stood motionless. What the hell was going on? Why was Nicole being nice to her arch enemy? She'd told her what Chrissy could be like, and yet here she was being welcomed back with open arms.

"The one on the bottom shelf," Nicole added. "Robin, take over for me here."

Nicole wiped her hands on a cloth tucked into her apron. She moved to the next station, peeling off the film covering a large tray, from which she began transferring a selection of canapes onto a plate.

Waverly couldn't bear to watch any more. She returned to find the pair still waiting to be seated.

The woman at Table 6 tapped Waverly's arm as she passed. "Our bottle needs to be-"

"Yes, yes. I'll be with you in a moment."

The diner waiting for his bill called out. "Over here love."

A ripple of laughter broke out, Chrissy with a stupid smirk plastered on her face. Waverly forced her own mouth into a smile. "Table 3 is ready, follow me."

Chrissy was wearing the same coat from the hen night. About to place it on the back of a chair, Waverly grabbed it from her hands. "Trip hazard. Needs to go in the cloakroom."

Chrissy held onto a sleeve.

"I need to take it," Waverly insisted, her grip tightening.

Chrissy kept tight hold of the garment.

"For fuck's sake," Waverly hissed, keeping her voice low so only Chrissy would hear, "give me the coat."

Chrissy let go, which sent Waverly hurtling into Table 4. Her hip hit the side, a tall glass toppling, the contents spilling out towards its owner. She threw the coat back at Chrissy, snatching a serviette from their table in a desperate attempt to stem a river of red wine from reaching the diner.

Too late.

The commotion brought Nicole out to see what was going on. All eyes were now on Waverly, frantically trying to undo the damage done, a crimson cloth in one hand, looking as though she might cry. Nicole calmly took control of the situation. The soggy item relieved from Waverly's shaking hand, she told her to deal with the other diners, apologising to Table 4, a free bottle of wine and dry cleaning offered by way of compensation. Her next apology was to Chrissy and the bride-to-be, taking both coats without further fuss, waiting for them to be seated.

Nicole sauntered into the kitchen, their eyes meeting for the first time that evening. "I should dock that out of your wages," she teased. "Think we got away with it."