Eternal Adoration [ON PAUSE]

11. Chauffeuring Duties

SERAPHINA

One thing about me? I work amazingly under pressure.

Where many would crumble and be reduced to a ball of nerves at being watched and assessed while performing a difficult task, my brain focuses and functions almost on autopilot. For as long as I can remember, it's been my superpower. One of the few things I have relied on through my unreliable life.

But as life would have it, today, I discover that that superpower that has helped me ace exams when my personal life was in pieces is nonexistent when a specific man is the one doing the watching.

I place the empty tray on the counter, keeping my back to him, and close my eyes just for one moment. I can feel him staring, even though his laptop is open on the table in front of him, his gaze touches my back.

"Good looking young man you've got there." Ms. Millie bumps her shoulder into mine jokingly, and I turn to look at her. "Seen him here once before, months ago. Didn't know you two were . . . acquainted."

I want to wince at the way she says it, the implications. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to let him drive me to work, and I knew I should have thrown a fit when he claimed he would do his work at the diner and then drive me back to my apartment.

I knew it, but I got cocky. I told myself that I wouldn't get rattled by his presence and that his concern shouldn't worry me because it isn't a big deal, but I was wrong. Oh, I was so wrong.

"We aren't really, er, acquainted," I mutter back, busying myself by reading through my order notepad.

I see her turn to peek at Aristide from my periphery, and to my embarrassment, she waves at him, basically letting him know exactly what-who-we're talking about.

"Ms. Millie," I hiss at her, "don't wave at him!"

"Oh, but why?" She looks at me with a grin, mischief playing in her eyes. "He was already looking in our direction, or more accurately, looking at you, so waving is only a polite response."

I would laugh in despair, but another customer walks in, so I can only whirl, plaster a smile on my face, and approach him with all the enthusiasm I can muster even as Aristide's eyes track my movement.

"Hi, there! Welcome to Millie's! Table for one?"

The guy nods with a smile. "Yes, please."

I direct him to the right side of the diner, and like most people, he expresses a preference for a booth, which I gladly lead him to despite the tension I feel inside when I realize the only empty booth is the one opposite Aristide's.

"Okay, can I get you started with anything to drink?" Even the question is difficult to voice out loud, and without meaning to, my eyes find Aristide long enough to send him a scathing look. He only raises a brow at me.

The guy picks up the menu from the table, sliding a hand through his hair before glancing up at me with a small smile. "I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm feeling kinda hurt that you don't recognize who I am, Sera."

I blink, clearing away thoughts of a brooding man whose attention has not strayed from me. "Um, what?"

The guy chuckles, and surprisingly, I recognize the laugh. It's slow and deep, the laugh of a guy who genuinely finds things humorous, and who is not afraid to find the joy in life.

"Hilltop's Historical Records with Dr. Roscoff?"

"Oh . . . yeah." I bite my lip, trying to match his familiarish face with a name. I come up short. "Yeah, I know who you are."