Sylvia Grace

Chapter 2

Grace's alarm went off at 4 the next morning. She'd always been an early riser and runner. It was one routine she didn't change when she left Jersey. Running helped her keep her mind clear, she could just get lost in it; it helped her feel normal.
Just like every other morning, she brushed her teeth, pulled on her sports bra and oversized tank, she found her shorts and the grabbed her shoes and socks on her way out the back door. She looked at her surroundings while she sat down and put her shoes and socks on. The beach below her house was empty as usual, not many people jogged down the beach this far.
She would put in her normal, quick mile and het back to get showered and dressed for the early shift at the café. It was secretly her favorite shift. Everyone was always happy to start the day if they made it in early, and she didn't have to deal with many grumps.

Grace finished her run, showered, dressed again in her usual khaki shorts and white V-neck shirt, put on her nikes and was out the door. She pulled up to the cade as light was just breaking over the horizon.
"Hey Becky! Beautiful morning isn't it?" She called getting out of her truck.

"Sure is Grace." Becky said meeting Grace halfway to the front door. "You're always so happy in the mornings, what's your secret girl? Are you drinking some kind of happy juice?" She asked pulling the door open.
Grace giggled and followed Becky in.
"No. I'm a closet runner. Every morning like clockwork." Grace laughed when Becky wrinkled her nose.

"Girl, I haven't run since high school and I hated it then. As you can tell by the size of my ass. I'm going to let you have that little treat all to yourself."

The girls started their side work, greeted Tommy and Joe, the cooks, and greeted their first customers promptly at 6. As usual, at about 6:30 Earl, Tom and Ernie came in and sat at their usual table; all good mornings and smiles.

There were a few new faces in the café this morning and Becky lamented over the start of tourist season beginning. The café's proximity to the beach always made it a busy spot for all the shifts. Grace had her back to the door, taking an order but heard the bell above the door and called out a greeting over her shoulder.

"Good morning. Find a table and one of us will be right with you." She finished taking the order, walked it to the service window and then turned to scan the dining room for the new customer.
Her eyes found him and she immediately wished he wasn't sitting at one of her tables. He looked like a rough customer; his hair was greasy looking and the hard expression on his face wasn't welcoming enough to even make her want to take his order. She pushed away from the window and got a serious look from Tom when she passed his table. This must have been one of the guys they had mentioned las night; and that was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

Stopping next to the booth Grace forced a smile and pulled out her note pad, "Good morning. What can I start you off with to drink? Coffee, orange juice..." The man looked her over, even going as far as to lean slightly around the table. The action made her skin crawl.
"You from around these parts?" He asked, almost with a sneer.

"I didn't grow up here if that's what you're asking." She knew she didn't have the same slight accent most people around her seemed to. But you couldn't tell by listening to her that she'd spent a chunk of her life on the East Coast either, so there was no point in lying to the guy.

"But you live here." It was more of a statement rather than a question and it was bordering on rude. This guy was not a regular tourist.

"Yep, sure do. I like working here but I wouldn't be diving in from two towns over for a waitress job. So what are you having? Do you need more time with the menu?" Grace asked just wanting to get away from the guy.

"Nah. Coffee, ham omelet and toast." He said briskly, dismissing her.

Grace turned rolling her eyes, quickly re-securing her smile again as another customer came through the door. He greeted her with a smile of his own and gave her a quick, head to toe, once over.

"Good morning. Find you a seat and one of us will be right over to take your order."
This guy was everything ol'greasy was not. Tall, broad and friendly; he was the type of guy that was easy to wait on and look at. She took greasy's ticket to the service window and stood next to Becky for a minuet surveying the dwindling tables.

"Damn." Becky said, her gaze following the friendly stranger. "Looks like sunshine just sat down in your section. You've got the luck this morning."

Grace turned in the direction Becky had mentioned. He had taken a seat at a table between Tom and the boys, and greasy.
She made a rude noise and looked at Becky. "Hey, has that rude, greasy looking asshole been in here before? Have you had the pleasure of waiting on him?"

Becky laughed at Grace. "Yeah, he was in here a couple of nights ago. Nosey somebody isn't he. I guess you got the personal questions too. He's an odd one, but a pretty good tipper, if you can ignore the strange questions and rude looks. I'd swear he was trying to guess the color of my underwear, he was staring at my ass so hard."

Grace laughed, "Great! Thanks for the heads up." Becky gave her a pat as they went separate directions.