THE CAMELLIA TAVERN

CHAPTER 9: AN ELIGIBLE BACHELOR

Saturday, June 6

I shower and get ready for the Saturday dinner shift. Not for the first time, recently, I put more effort into my hair and makeup for the evening since there's not really any sprucing up my work uniform, but I refuse to give any thought to why I might be doing that.

We've been asked to come in early once more for a meeting with the new boss, which is how I have decided to start referring to him since calling him 'Warrick' reminds me of his gorgeous face and offensively hot body. .

I have to wonder if he's planning on starting to make changes at The Camellia Tavern--attempting to get it to live up to the potential he mentioned the other night over dessert.

We get to work 4 minutes after we should have arrived due to Jacinda getting into a rather lengthy and emotional call with her parents, which isn't terribly unusual. And that means that, apparently, we missed whatever announcement from the new boss we were supposed to hear.

"Did you hear?" Anjali, one of the hostesses, says to us as soon as we're through the employee entrance.

"Obviously not," Jacinda says sharply but, luckily, Anjali doesn't seem fazed by it.

"Mr. Travers! He's going to take four of us to his restaurant in Birmingham! We're supposed to see how they do things there and come back with what we observe. And he brought his girlfriend or whatever here. She's gorgeous!"

Girlfriend?! Or whatever?! Gorgeous?!

I know she doesn't realize she just sent me into a tailspin of emotion, but really, what did I just hear?

Don't get me wrong. I like Anjali. In fact, she's probably my favorite hostess at The Camellia Tavern. But did she just say that my new boss whose name I won't use, has a girlfriend???

I know she also mentioned something about employees going to Birmingham, so at some point I'll process that news, as well. Right now, though? I can't get past the word "girlfriend".

Not my business, I tell myself. Because, it's not. So he came to our house to offer me an apology the other night. So he sometimes looks at me intensely according to Winter.

He's young, hot, successful, which obviously means he's a total player. I'm not naïve enough to think otherwise. Besides, I've been burned by someone before and I'm perfectly aware that some men play games you simply can't win.

The night goes by rather quickly and the hiccups we have throughout the night are pretty minor. We're not always so lucky on a Saturday night shift.

I don't see our new boss for the first few hours of the night shift, and I have to admit that it bothers me, but I know it's for the best. Seeing him only serves to distract me and if he's escorted by his girlfriend, I really don't know how I will react. Inwardly, I will have a fit.

It's almost nine o'clock before I spot him, but at least I'm prepared to see that he's not alone. There's a female standing by his side observing the place and making periodic comments to him. She has thick, dark brown hair and full, pink lips. She looks like she should be walking the runways of pageant stages or something.

The woman standing before me couldn't be more than twenty-five or twenty-six. She's poised. She's elegant. Every move is feminine and seemingly calculated. I begin to wonder if, perhaps, she's not a woman, but a robot made to look like a woman.

And, yes, I realize this is my own jealousy talking but, no, I can't override it.

About the time the dinner rush ends and we're getting ready for the after dinner crowd, I realize that I need to go to the restroom before we are overrun with customers once more.