One in the Same

Ch 7: Sylvia

"Miss... miss?" A woman's voice called out.

An unfortunate disassociation moment so deep dark only her angelic voice snapped out of it in an instant. Snapping my head up, a waitress had a look of disappointment on her face. Sadness clouded her features before masking them as she spoke.

"We're closing in an hour, miss. Do you want me to box your belongings?" She asked her eyes darting to the hardly touched food.

My blood was boiling, my body was numb and my brain couldn't think of the words to reply. Of all the things I was looking forward to, didn't happen tonight. Tears pricked my eyes, but I shoved them back, and swallowed. But my throat was too dry to function.

"Miss—"

"She's fine, Delilah." A man clipped. A voice I knew instantly, and my skin went hot. "Go on and head out, I'll take care of this."

Her lips pursed to a straight line before nodding behind me, scurrying to the back.   

Over and over, I scrolled through the endless amounts of texts I had sent him, James throughout the night. Dating apps in this world just fucking suck.My thumb hit send unapologetically watching as the message finally went from blue... to green. I was blocked. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

Three.

Fucking.

Hours.

I sat, waiting for what was my date to get here, and of course never showing up. Tears threatened to prick my eyelids once again, but I was still too angry, too frustrated. Sighing in defeat, I gave in. Snagging my purse and mumbling stupid comebacks into the air, I retrieve my wallet, slapping a $10 on the table, snagging my receipt and going to the clerk's desk to pay. Every second I felt my blood simmering in my veins, the tequila making my face flush more than normal.

"Not taking any leftovers home tonight, dear?" Caleb, the boy's name tag read.

Tight lipped and way too on edge to spit a reply I shook my head, my knuckles white from gripping my purse so hard. Right before swiping my card, the man who I had assumed was talking to the waitress moments ago approached the desk. A man I was familiar with all too well.

"Clear out, Caleb. Have a good night, I will take care of this matter. Thank you."

"Yes, Chef. Goodnight." Nodding once in my direction Caleb took the same route that the waitress did, and out the door he went. It was evidently just him and I left in the building.

Fiddling with my purse strap I gained the courage to look up at him, and my eyes were almost as wide as saucers.

Oh my god... that's not...

My mouth opened slightly in awe, taking in the gorgeous sight before me. Even in his work attire he was stunning as all could be. The lights above us were dim, and made his features more bold. Giving him the assertive look, and yet I was drawn to it, without there being a reason to be. Muscular, a dark shadow of a beard covering his chin, a glimpse of a slight dimple peaked out underneath, dark chocolate brown eyes that damn near looked black, and matching hair to go with it. Underneath the dim light of the restaurant the man looked like a God. The way his chef coat hugged his figure, and - Jesus- the sleeves were rolled showing off his tanned forearms, and a hint of a tail end of a tattoo peaking. My heart was rapidly beating in my chest, I was afraid that he was going to hear it.

"Did you not like the food that was prepared for you tonight? You hardly touched it." He asked, voice soft, patient, delicate. Deep. Sexy.

Stuttering only to embarrass myself more, I replied, "N-no it was good, I assure you. I just--"