Don't

1

You've been at this now for almost six months, and slowly you were starting to drowned in bills. You're parents never thought you would never actually go through with your half cocked plan of moving all the way across the country. You had always dreamed of living on the east coast, pictures of beautiful homes, and gorgeous cities. New people, new places, actual seasons but slowly your dream was turning into a nightmare of bills.
   The only bright side is one of the patrons that always came to your diner was Chris Evans. It was almost like clock word, Monday he would be in as soon as the doors were unlocked, Wednesday he would be in somewhere around noon, and Saturday he was in at ten. You wished you could say that you had talked to him but Rachel, the lead waitress, always got to seat him and take his order. But just seeing him always made your week a little easier.
    Today it was slammed in the cozy little diner and rachel had called in, complaining of some stomach virus. And you were cursing her under your breath as you rushed around, seating customers, taking orders, delivering food. It was a busy Sunday morning, and not typical. You had just come back to the front to seat the next person when baby blues met yours.
   Your heart almost stopped dead in your tracks, you almost dropped the menu you had been holding. The day you dreamed of was finally here, and now you were scared shitless.
   "Uh, um, table for one?" You attempted to compose yourself. He nodded with a lopsided smirk as he followed you back to a booth in the corner. You shakily placed the menu on the table. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"
   "Coffee, please." He voice was deep, deeper then it sounded in interviews. You nodded and almost sprinted away. Your hands shook as you tried to pour the hot liquid into the mug, spilling some onto your hand.
   "Dammit." You hissed under your breath, wiping your hand with a towel. "Pull it together, Y/n."
   You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nervous body. You walked back out, taking him the coffee.
   "Busy day it looks like." He said, looking up at you.
   "Yeah, busier then I've seen it. Then again I've only been working here six months." You chuckle lightly, trying to conceal how bad your nerves were getting to you.
    "I thought you might of been new. Been coming here for years, and I know I'd remember a pretty face like yours." He winked, your were pretty sure your heart stopped beating in that exact moment. You weren't even sure your heard him right, did he just say you were pretty?
   "Um, were, were you ready to order or did you need a few more minutes." You asked, feeling the heat creep up your face. You jotted down his order, and rushed back to the kitchen to put it up. Grabbing plates of other food for other tables, trying to push his comment to the back of your head.
    Chris watched you from his booth, leaning back in the seat. He rubbed at the three day old face stubble, watching the way you moved in between tables and chairs. Your body moved like a dancer, fluid and with ease. He'd been watching you for months now with the idea in the back of his head.
   He had seen you on more then one occasion sitting down when the diner wasn't busy. Calculator on the table, your pad in hand, running through monthly expenses. That's when the idea came to him, your scratch his back, and he'd scratch yours. He continued to observe you as you jested with a couple of regulars, your laughter a music to his ears.
  Chris wasn't going to lie to himself, he didn't have time for a relationship. Or at least not one the one he wanted right now, but what he did have time for was something else. He smiled as you approached with his food and the container of coffee.
    "Sorry it took a bit, I'm the only waitress today." You apologized to him setting the plate down.
   "No worries, you seem to handling yourself okay." He replied as you refilled his cup.
   "Glad to hear that, cause I feel like I'm treading water." You admit to him, looking back at the tables, everyone had food, soon you'd have to take a moment to go back through and offer refills on coffees.
   "What's your name?" He asked, turning your attention back to him.
   "Y/n." You tell him, leaning your hip against the booth opposite of him.
   "Well, y/n, whether or not you feel like your treading water, your doing good." He smiled up at you, you smiled back as you excused yourself.
You rushed up to the counter as people were slowly finishing their food and started paying. It wasn't long till Chris was standing at the till in front of you, paying for his meal. He handed you his debt card, swiping it through the machine, you took another shaky breath.
   "How was the food?" You asked, handing him the slip of paper.
   "Good as always, though I think I was more interested in the waitress then eating." He casually replied, handing you back the paper. You knew you were blushing again, as you grabbed the slip from him. "Have a good day, y/n."
   You looked down at the the slip, in the tip line he had written $100. You blinked a couple of times, rushing out from around the counter. He must of added an extra zero, and hundred dollar tip on a plate of food that only costed six bucks.
   You hit the door, and stepped out seeing no sign of him. Now you had to decide whether to run it as a hundred or not. That was a large tip, you turned stepping back into the waiting area. A folded up piece of paper on the floor grabbed your attention.
You bent down and picked it up.

Meet me at seven tonight, wear something nice and don't be late. - Chris

An address was scribble across the bottom.