Flawless Liar

Chapter Seven

Marilyn Rose Walker-Johnson's Point of View 

Benjamin & Marilyn

~*~

The work day was dragging by in a blur and with no actual end in sight I attempted to occupy my time by cleaning the counter that I had already cleaned about five times this afternoon. It was Thanksgiving and the diner had decided to stay open to offer a place of refuge for those without family. Moving out at 19 had left me with not only a lack of funds, but a lack of family as well. I had been stubborn and in an attempt to make a name for myself without the help of my already struggling parents. The day I left home I had a suitcase full of clothes and a backpack for anything else I might've owned; with barely $2oo to my name I had dove in head first to what life would offer me. I left my small home in Washington and headed south to L.A; the city that promised everyone fulfilled dreams and lavish lifestyle. I walked into this diner a few months after arriving in Los Angeles and I had never left; almost 2 years later and I was still here. 

The overhead doorbell rang signalling a customer had walked in, I turned my head with a warm smile to welcome them. A young man in a dark blue ironed shirt, black tie and dress slacks had walked into the diner sticking out like a sore thumb. This was the lower income part of Los Angeles and a young man wearing a business suit on Thanksgiving was not the average client.

"Good afternoon, how are you doing?" I walked towards him as he took a seat at the bar. I handed him a menu with a smile as he sat there with his head down. He didn't make eye contact with me and instead just stared at the menu I had placed in front of him. I waited for a minute before deciding I would occupy my time elsewhere until he was ready to order. 

"I'm doing okay. Thank you." His response was emotionless and he kept his eyes locked on the counter in front of him. 

"My name is Marilyn, let me know if you need anything." He then looked up at me and I was locked into a gaze with his brown eyes looking deeply into mine. I stood there with a blank expression unsure of what to do before he responded again. 

"That's a lovely name. Sorry for being so rude, I've had a rough day." I smiled with relation to his situation and nodded my head with assurance that it was okay. 

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can get you to ease up on your bad day?" 

"Coffee and a conversation?" His eyes carried a great deal of innocence, I wondered what could've ruined his day so badly that he had wound up in this part of Los Angeles seeking a conversation from a waitress. 

"Sure. Cream or sugar?" I turned on my heel and reached for a clean coffee mug from the top shelf. 

"Both, please and thank you." I started pouring the coffee and smiled at him, most businessmen only wanted straight black coffee and would never dare ask for cream and sugar. 

"So, I have to ask. What's a guy like you doing in this part of Los Angeles on a holiday?"

"Ah, I guess with my current attire I should've expected that question. I was in the neighborhood, honestly." I chuckled, the suit he was wearing cost easily $2,000 and there was no way he was just 'strolling through' the neighborhood in that. 

"Don't you know that waitresses can always tell when you're lying." I smirked at him and leaned against the counter awaiting a better answer.