Last Olive Bistro ✓

Chapter 11: Stopping by

Sundays at work were usually chill. Tony spent the early afternoon whipping up Bloody Marys for the older ladies who swarmed the joint for brunch.

On that day, there was a baby shower party, which wasn't troublesome but included unnecessary work. Those types of gatherings—baby showers, birthdays, the bridge club—usually brought their own cake and asked us to serve it.

In the least opportune moment, as another server and I escorted a sheet cake, large enough for fifty people, to the dining room, Jacob strolled in. I tried to act like I didn't see him and proceeded as such.

Of course I had to glance from the corner of my eye to see what he was doing there. Payton seated him, oddly enough at the bar, and he declined a drink. As I served the cake slices to the baby shower, one pink iced square at a time, I could feel his eyes on me.

"This is lovely!" one woman exclaimed.

"I know. They have such wonderful service here," another added.

My insides cried with embarrassment. I gestured at the other server to leave a few extra slices at the end of the table so that they wouldn't badger us for more too soon. When I glanced at Jacob again, he appeared to be smirking at my ridiculous job duty. I felt like a party clown.

The other server was happy to take the cart and mostly-empty cake pan to the back. I couldn't blame the kid—he was probably terrified of Angela yelling at him to 'look busy'. Any minute task was a gift. I scooted over and met up with Jacob.

"It's a girl, judging by the pink icing?" Jacob asked, amused.

I grumbled under my breath and ignored the cake charade. "Not your usual today?"

His tongue slid across his bottom lip, pondering. He inhaled and rested his hands on top of the bar. "I came to ask you something, in person. I'm not too into the idea of texting these things."

"Okay," I said, in a tone implying for him to continue.

His eyes darted back and forth across mine several times before he spoke again. "You never said when you'd like to have dinner with me."

His voice was low and somewhat husky, like he was trying to be quiet about it, though no one was around to hear him. Heat rushed through my blood so fast that I felt light headed, but I let out a breathy laugh.

My anxiety spiked when Angela burst out of the kitchen doors and stormed towards me. I swallowed hard, but my change in emotion didn't phase Jacob. He continued to gaze at me, patiently waiting for an answer.

"You need to refill drinks for that party," Angela barked, disregarding Jacob's presence.

"I was just over there."

"Get back over there and refill their drinks. Did you refill the water pitcher like I asked you to an hour ago? Why was Tony doing it?" Her voice was stern and robotic, like she was trying too hard to show off her authority in front of a customer.

Jacob cleared his throat, casually not impressed. "Chloe's your best employee. You don't need to yell at her."

I gulped again. Angela shot him a fiery stare. "Excuse me? Who are you?"

"Our best customer," Tony chimed in from behind the bar, an enthusiastic, wild smile plastered on his face. That man had no fear of the troll's wrath.

"Don't tell me how to run my restaurant," she spat, then stomped away like a bratty child after a temper tantrum.

"Maybe give her a raise!" Jacob shouted, but she disappeared through the swinging kitchen doors. Jacob chuckled aloud and Tony winked an approval. Some of the party people glanced over, but they weren't having any part of their glee.