When We Met

three

|Donovan|

It's five minutes​ to eight, and I've been waiting for the clock to hit the end of my shift since the past two hours. Don't blame me.

Working my ass off at the diner and then giving my ear to my boss for a heat up is something that I am not fond of.

Till now, that fucking butthole of a boss has not shown his face and I really hope that he doesn't for my whole life.

Madeline, a blonde head with deep blue eyes, walks up next to me and throws the cutlery inside the basin, cursing under her breath. She's become one of my best mates and we both have murdered our boss in our heads about a gazillion times.

"What's up?" I ask, fastening the scarf around my neck.

"I fucking hate this uniform. And don't get me started on that filthy cockroach." She exclaims, continuously thumping her forehead against the cutlery cabinet.

"Filthy cockroach?!" I bark, chuckling.

"Yep. Rob fucking Reynolds. He is another version of Jamie Dornan in fifty shades of Grey. The only difference is that this cockroach uses threats of firing us instead of whips and chains."

"Oh my God, you didn't say that."

"I just did, sweetheart. But, no. I take my words back. Dornan has a drool worthy body. That cockroach doesn't."

"You're sick, Maddie."

"I know, and–" she stops speaking, because an all too familiar voice hits the background.

"All out! Right now!" Rob Reynolds's croak booms through the aisle.

We both freeze.

Madeline raises an eyebrow at me and I shrug. Our boss doesn't seem to be in a very good mood today.

I take Maddie's hand and pull her along with me. There is no way in hell that I'll be facing that junkhead's wrath without a companion.

As all the waiters and waitresses of his benign (cough, sarcasm, cough) diner assemble in front of him, I take my time to win another glance at the clock.

6:05 pm.

I'm going to scramble him like eggs and then burn his soul in Tartarus. How dare he make me stay back after my shift was over?

"Eyes on me, Donovan. The clock will not save you tonight." That bull sounds like a fucking rapist.

I roll my eyes and try to listen to his absolute mumbo jumbo.

"I want all of you to stop denying the fact that you all are the respectable and dynamic servants. Because you aren't." He starts.

"Did that doofus just brand us as his fucking servants?!" Madeline hisses and I pinch her arm to shut her up.

"As I noted, you all are doing absolutely nothing to make our guests feel comfortable and very much at home." He continues.

I almost laugh out loud when he uses the word 'guests'.

"Jim, Molly and Andrew. I want you all to be fragile and quick with your service. Your pace is almost zero and yesterday, I had been having second thoughts about tipping you.

"Roth, Damon, Kelsie and Gina. I'd really appreciate it if you four would stop lurking around the aisles to bum your smokes!

"Gerry and Laila. I'm hoping that you'll come up with new dishes for our starters' menu.

"And as for you both, Madeline and Cheryl." My ears perk up at the mention of my name. "I'd really find it useful if you both would start sticking your noses in your business and stop calling me names. I hope I don't have to remind you again that your salary lies with me. And so does your job."