Can I have my usual, please?

New Beginnings

"Come on, at least smile at the customers. You look like you're about to go on a killing spree." Chrissy comments.

"You do know I'm technically your boss, right?", I ask mockingly.

She rolls her eye at my question and continues making coffee. I don't even know how to make that machine work. And to think that I have to run this entire restaurant!

"So? What's your point?", Chrissy questions me. Her coarse black hair was pulled into a bun, her skin as pale as always and her warm brown eyes challenged me. She was really tall which made her even more intimidating.

"You shouldn't be giving orders to your boss." This makes Chrissy burst into a laugh.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I can't imagine you as my boss." She says before taking the coffee to the customers.

Well, that makes the two of us. I don't want to do this. I don't want to own a restaurant. I want to do what others at my age does. Go to college. Go to parties. Get drunk.

I don't dwell too much on the thought. Today wasn't going smoothly. My chef had already screwed up our soup. Customers had complained while I stared helplessly at Robert, our head chef. He had apologized. But I had a nagging feeling it was all my fault. I need to get my shit together before the dream my mom tried so hard to fulfill, perished.

I put on an apron and decided to take orders. I started from the seat at the corner. This was probably my favorite part of this restaurant. It was a bit far from the other ruckus. The best place to clear your head.

"Hi. What can I get you?" I asked the customer. He appeared to be immersed in what he was reading.

"Um. Excuse me, sir. What can I get for you?" I asked again.

He suddenly looked up, irritated. "Can I have my usual, please?"

Usual? He was a regular customer? I hadn't seen him before. I stared at him. He had blonde hair and amber eyes with high cheekbones. He appeared to be strongly built. Somebody definitely workouts. Damn. I would have remembered this face if I had seen it before.

"Uh, okay" I replied before scurrying away. Damn it, Nadia. Have some self control.

I returned back to the desk at reception. "Chrissy!" I called.

"What ?" She muttered, clearly busy serving.

"Could you come here for a second?"

"Nadia Sanford! Will you let me work?" ,she muttered clearly losing her patience. I don't blame her. Today the restaurant seemed to be busier than usual. She must be really busy. But, hey, I needed help.

"I need your help. Table 4 asked for his usual. What's that?"

"Ah. Table 4." She said and looked in the opposite direction. Why was she looking there? Table 4 was at the corner. Maybe she was looking for someone. "It's a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich and caffe latte."

I place the order in the kitchen and continue to take other orders. That's when I noticed Mrs. Stewart coming out of the kitchen. She appeared to be a bit flushed as she came out of the kitchen. Mrs. Stewart was a very nice lady and had served here ever since mom began this restaurant. She was almost as wide as she was tall.

"Hey, Mrs. Stewart. You appear a bit red. Are you alright?" I asked a bit worried.

"Of course, dear. It's just the heat from the kitchen." She mumbles and moves around me to go and take orders.

Alright then. I finally gets a hold of the order for table number four. I slowly take it to Mr. Really-Hot. Calm down, Nadia. It's just a hot guy. It's not Zach Efron or Henry Cavill. You can do this.

"Here's what you asked for. Enjoy your meal", I said as I deliver him his food. He hesitantly takes his eyes off his book and stares at the food. Then, at me. I immediately blush. Okay, I should really go. I can't handle this much hotness. I was about to make my way back when he grabs my hand and turns me around. What. The. Hell.

He was now standing up. Our eyes, my blue ones and his amber eyes, were hooked onto each other as he dumps the bacon, egg and cheese sandwich over my head.

"This is not what I ordered." He hisses. I would have noticed how incredibly deep his voice was if I wasn't seething in fury.

"You asshole! You fucking piece of shit-"

He dumped caffe latte over my head.

"Fuck you! This is what you ordered."

Now, we had the attention of all the customers in my restaurant. I took a glass of water from the nearby table and splashed it across his face. And I was going to dump their fries on his head when Mr. Asshole grips my wrist and makes me put the fries back at the nearby table.

He glares at me before gathering his books into his hands and rushes out of the restaurant.

I take a deep breath and looks around to find all the wide eyes on me. I apologize and everything soon returns back to normal. Except for my attire, which was garnished with grease and food particles and caffe latte.

My employees stares at me worriedly. I give them a nod, indicating that I'm alright and asks them to continue with their work. Mrs. Stewart helps me clean up the mess.

Chrissy rushes over to me. "What the hell happened?"

"He's fucking crazy. He said that wasn't what he ordered and starts dumping things on me! Idiot. Fucking asshole-."

Chrissy clasps a hand around my mouth to stop me.

"But why did you bring him bacon, egg and cheese sandwich and caffe latte ? That's the usual for table number four."

I pull her hands away. "Which is exactly why I brought him that order. That's table number four."

"No Nadia! That's table number 9!", Chrissy and Mrs. Stewart screams at me in unison.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.