A Loveless Meal

Chapter 7: Harsh Words

He couldn't believe his eyes.
Here she was. A month of absolutely 0 contact, avoiding him like he was the plague... Now here she was at his job. Why? To see him? Then who was HE?
As he said her name, she glanced at him, her expression freezing on her face.
Her eyes darkened upon meeting his, making his hopeful smile turn bitter. Ah. Not here to see me, then. Figures he thought numbly.
Manon broke eye contact first and turned to her companion, whispering something in his ear. He looked surprised, then looked at Rody with something resembling pity.
Patting Manon's arm affectionately, the man broke from her grasp and walked to Rody, smiling sheepishly. Past him, Manon stared at him with cold eyes despite the fake smile on her lips. "Er, sorry about this, Mr....?"
"... Rody Lamoree," Rody responded, flexing his numb feeling fingers. Was he in shock? He felt like there was so much he wanted to ask, so much he wanted to say. But the look Manon had given him felt like it had frozen him in place. It wasn't at all that warm, sweet smile she used to present him whenever their eyes met.
"Right. I'm sorry about this, Mr. Lamoree. Manon told me about you but I had no idea you'd be working here. I know this must be rather awkward for you..." he said, laughing as if this was a minor inconvenience for everyone involved rather than the earth-shattering event it was for Rody.
"Haha yeah..." Rody said, his voice sounding distant to his ears.
The man slipped his hand into his coat pocket, pulling out a business card and presenting it to Rody. "Here, take this. Since I know this will likely be a weird situation for you, just let me know what days you're off and I can bring her here then."
Rody stared at the business card in his hand, not really seeing the information on it. The card looked like it was made of high quality material, sleek and black with gold lettering. Bet his shower works, Rody thought dimly, then had to fight the urge to laugh. What a petty thought.
Rody looked up at him. He wondered if he was as pale as he felt. Wondered if his hair looked as messy as he feared, if his wrinkled uniform looked ridiculous next to this man's perfectly maintained suit. He was even wearing the same outfit as yesterday.
He cleared his throat, though something still felt caught in it. "Um... I work here every day it's open..." he muttered, finding it hard to meet the man's eyes.
"Oh." The man said shortly. The hand holding the business card dropped to his side, slipping it back into his pocket with a sigh. "I guess there's nothing to be done about it then. That's too bad, I really wanted her to try this Chef's food..."
A presence appeared at Rody's side, placing a hand on the waiter's shoulder. "I think I can accommodate that. Rody was just about to go on his break anyway, so I can take over for your table."
Rody jumped at the sound of Vincent's customer service voice, ever charismatic and helpful. Peering up at him, he saw Vincent had plastered on one of his award-winning smiles, though Rody knew his real smiles were much more subtle than that.
The man grinned, clearly pleased. "Ah, Chef Charbonneau! An absolute pleasure to meet you!" he said, holding out his hand for a handshake.
Vincent shook his hand without a moment's hesitation, though Rody had noticed the flicker of irritation in his boss' eyes. "Likewise, Monsieur Jean-" he rattled off a name Rody didn't recognize and didn't care to know, citing reading about the man's impressive business ventures in the newspaper. "We're pleased to have you here, monsieur. If you'll follow me please..."
As he gestured in front of him, he leaned down and whispered in Rody's ear. "Go. Come back in an hour. I'll handle your tables until then."
Rody nodded gratefully, his mind still numb as he processed what was happening.

Slipping out of the front door, he hesitated as he tried to decide where to go or what to do. He wanted to just go home and lay on his couch, but he had the feeling seeing the state of his apartment might make this deep depression growing in his heart worse. Well, that and he doubted he'd be able to stay long since he only had an hour.
He sighed shakily, the tension in his shoulders wound tight.
After a few minutes of aimless pacing and struggling to think, he finally decided to just make the simple choice and sit on the staircase to Vincent's apartment. It was nearby and he could sit down, but he also wouldn't have to SEE the restaurant from where he was.
Putting his head in his hands, he sighed deeply and stared at the ground. Tears welled in his eyes. She... Moved on so fast... Here I was, still constantly thinking about her.. Seeing her in everything... Fuck, I couldn't even eat without being reminded of her...
He sniffled, his hands balling in his hair as he tried to maintain some semblance of self-control. He'd told himself he was done and moving on this morning. He couldn't just crack and lose it all the first time he saw her, even if it WAS unexpected. Even if she was here on a date.
He took a calming breath, though it came out shaky. He'd really have to thank Vincent later. He wasn't sure why he'd come to his rescue earlier, maybe just so his waiter didn't have a break down in front of the entire restaurant, but he was thankful regardless.
At moments like these, he almost wished he had a vice like smoking was for Vincent. He felt so stressed and emotional that it made him feel sick. Ugh.. When did everything get so messed up...? he thought, rubbing his face and groaning.
He leaned back on the steps and stared up at the sky for awhile, trying to find comfort in watching the clouds. But that pit in his stomach didn't go away, no matter how much time passed.