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My lower back ached after standing behind a cash register at Tasty's Chinese Takeout for four hours. I wasn't lazy, but standing in one spot for so long made my back hurt. It was closing in on nine p.m. The phone was dead. Orders were drying up.
Two mid-thirties Asian men stood behind me in the kitchen, stirring food in woks. As a shy nineteen-year-old, they never talked to me, for which I was sometimes grateful. Working in silence together made it more comfortable.
Restless, I eased my body to stand on one foot and then the other. Tables were clean. Chairs were tidy. The floor was swept. I'd done it all. I paced when I could, but felt like an idiot in front of the guys. The small floor mat on top of the tile did nothing for my lower back and legs that were aching for movement or rest. All I wanted to do was to find a large tub, some salts and bath bombs and soak all night.
My brain was adrift in a daydream about bath bomb scent options when the restaurant's door opened. I dragged myself out of my thoughts to focus. I hoped it was Tommy, my boss, to tell me to go home.
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He wasn't Tommy, but his face was familiar. Memories floated through my brain as I tried to identify him.
The door swung closed behind him and he spotted me. His already wide blue eyes seemed to grow in size at looking at me.
He was tall, six foot and a handful of inches, with broad square shoulders, and a bulky torso. He wore thick brown boots, dark blue jeans and a blue, long-sleeved plaid shirt over a black T-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up just to his elbow.
His skin was deeply tan, which clashed heavily with his sky-blue eyes. His eyes were so large and clear that it was startling the way they sparkled under the florescent lights.
High cheekbones, a broad jawline, a strong nose. He had a neatly tapered cut to his brown hair, with a few sun-streaked locks throughout.
A sharp pang scent came in with him, and my smile became forced. It was probably liquid fertilizer, or perhaps he'd visited pigs recently and never cleaned the bottom of his boots. His clothes were clean, though. Either way, it was normal for farmers around Indiana to have certain farm fragrances after being out working. I swallowed thickly, trying not to breathe it in too much.
