At Your Service (Book Two)

Chapter 15: Meanwhile

Damn it. Signal went dead. Tom grumbled when he opened the tracker device installed in his phone, one that apparently is pinpointing Swift's current location. He last checked an hour ago, since texting and driving isn't something he considered to be professional, especially when driving a dirtbike that he rented.

Just now, he parked his motorbike on the side of the road to see if he was going in the right direction. He was almost distracted when a helicopter flew far over his head. Apparently, this is the freeway the convoy is supposed to take. If he finds the convoy, he finds Swift. An hour ago, he had a location lock but once he checked again, the signal was gone.

But finding the convoy won't matter now. Tom is standing literally in the way of it. Eventually, Swift will turn up. He knows that he will. All he needs to do is wait. Coincidentally, there is a roadside diner that just happens to be across from where he halted, a perfect place to wait for the convoy.

Tom drove his motorcycle into the parking lot, finding only one empty spot. After shutting off the engine and not forgetting to bring the keys with him, Tom walked straight towards the entrance. A bell rang once he pushed the door open and he was by an ambience that spoke the ordinary mood of a diner.

The atmosphere of the restaurant that Tom found himself in was somewhat familiar in a different way. Maybe it's because he's in a roadside restaurant instead of a regular diner he usually visits. Most of it was the same. A strong scent of culinary being crafted in the kitchen, voices of two or more people conversing while they enjoyed their food, anything that fills all checkmarks of a diner.

In the restaurant, Tom spotted at least five to maybe six tables being taken. Seats that were still available were the ones facing the main counter, a diner waiter stationed on the opposite side of it. There were two seats that remained vacant. One was very far away from the entrance, so he picked the one that is relatively close to him, located in the middle of two occupied seats.

When he settled down, a man to his right stood up and took his leave to the door, keeping the number of seats available the same since Tom walked in. One of the restaurant waiters noticed Tom's arrival, and he came over to him right away.

"Puedo ayudarlo?" (Translation: May I help you?)

Tom confronted the person who greeted him, who is a waiter, approximately in his thirties with a hairstyle that almost resembled Tom's, and a goatee. Finished scanning the waiter's appearance, Tom went back to what he just said. Wait, what the hell did he say?

"Um..." Tom stuttered, wondering what to acknowledge the waiter with. His fear turned into reality. His past conversation with Swift about learning Spanish. He knew it would save him someday, but he forgot to keep up with his pledge about it. Luckily enough, he knows one sentence that would come in handy in these kinds of situations. "No hablo español?" (Translate: I don't speak Spanish?)

Given that it's a universal sentence for non-Spanish speakers, the waiter nodded in complete understanding. "You American?" He asked.

Tom's eyebrows both lifted. He didn't expect the waiter to speak English immediately, but it's good that he did. "Yes. Yes, I am." Tom replied.

"Ah," The waiter nodded again. "Would you like a drink?"

"Coffee will do, thank you very much." Tom smiled politely before the waiter dragged a nearby warm kettle, obviously with pre-brewed coffee in it, and poured it into a cup already placed in front of Tom.

"So, what brings a kid like you all the way here, in the middle of nowhere?" The waiter asked.

After tasting the coffee a little, Tom smacked his lips. "I'm just... looking for a friend who lives around here."