You're the One (a Bistro La Bohème novella)

Chapter 6: La Boheme

This was an inane idea. What was I thinking?

Natalie wiped her sweaty hands with a paper tissue and adjusted her sunglasses. She felt puerile and ridiculous hiding behind a tree in front of Fred's office building. When she'd bought those oversized glasses, the newspaper, and the wig—a jet-black bob with blunt bangs like Uma Thurman's in Pulp Fiction—she told herself it was a game. She would play a little game of detective to weed the seed of doubt planted by the sweet-voiced receptionist. She'd have a laugh about it with Marie later.

But now that she was playing the game, she didn't find it the least bit amusing.

It was ten to six. Natalie peeked from behind the tree and saw Fred walk out the revolving door. He looked fresh and debonair in his well-tailored suit, with his navy-blue raincoat thrown over his forearm.

Natalie expected him to head to the parking lot, but he strode in the opposite direction. She followed, keeping a good distance. Five minutes later, he turned onto a pedestrian street, entered a bistro, and settled at a table in the corner. She hurried in unnoticed and found a vacant table at the opposite end of the room. After a moment's hesitation, she yanked off her sunglasses and opened her newspaper.

A waitress with dyed pale blue hair served Fred a beer. Natalie ordered a glass of Bordeaux and waited. Ten minutes later, the waitress was back at his table again, holding another beer. But this time she no longer wore her uniform. Instead, she was clad in skinny jeans and a formfitting black leather jacket. Natalie watched her discretely. Her hair was cut pixie style. She had a luscious mouth, with a little piercing on her lower lip. As for her body, it was undeniably hot. Lava-grade hot.

The bistro was nearly empty, with the exception of an old lady reading a book, a guy in a baggy sweater staring at his laptop screen, Fred, and herself. Natalie could hear the waitress's words even from her distance.

"Et voilà—I finished my shift. Did you enjoy your beer?"

"It was refreshing, thank you." Fred grinned at her. "You ready to leave?"

"Not before I've finished my own." She pointed at her beer and sat down across from him. "How was your day?"

"Thrilling." He paused for effect. "I processed a huge pile of insurance claims. How was yours?"

She flashed him a dazzling smile. "Challenging. At lunchtime, I was flanked by a greenhorn who was supposed to help me."

"Did he have a meltdown?"

"He tried his best to keep up, I'll grant him that. But he failed miserably."

"Poor chap." A playful smile danced on Fred's handsome face.

Natalie gasped. She hadn't seen that smile in months. It used to make her weak in the knees, but now it made her sick with sadness and jealousy.

"Poor me. Not only was he not much help, he generated a lot of extra work during the busiest hour at the bistro," the waitress said.

"Lunchtime?" he asked.

"You know how it is here between one and two. I really didn't need broken plates and mixed-up orders on top of the usual craziness."

The waitress took a gulp of her beer. They fell silent for a while. Natalie sat still, trying to rein in her emotions. She didn't dare peek from behind her paper, afraid that Fred would turn in her direction. When she finally did look, he had already left.

And so had the waitress.