“What do you see?” I ask, knowing there’s no way she sees the real meaning, which is my lack of a sex life.
“The movement in the water represents the movement of money. It’s all gathering over here,” she says, pointing to the top corner, “in a sort of whirlpool. I assume that’s the one percent?”
“Is it too obvious?” I’m not about to tell her the whirlpool is actually my poor pussy, and the movement in the water is all the action I’ve never experienced.
Instead of going out and socializing like everyone else in high school and college, I spent every waking second studying and practicing different techniques. Twenty-three and never been kissed. It’s pathetic, even if I do know a zillion different ways to lay paint on a canvas.
“Not in the least. Remember, I have the benefit of knowing you and knowing your themes. It’s perfect the way it is. You really are amazing, I hope you see that. To most people, this is a beautiful image of the seaside. It would look pretty on any wall.”
“You really think so?”
She turns and grabs the tops of my arms, shaking me gently. “Stop doubting yourself. You’ll drive yourself crazy!”
“Thank you. For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without your support.” Especially without my parents in my life. Ava’s now the closest thing I have to a mother, even though she’s nearly old enough to be my grandmother.
“Stop being silly.”
“I have to get ready for the money-making job now.”
***
Late for my Saturday night shift as usual, I rush into Johnny’s Roadhouse, making my way as fast as I can to the staff changing area. I say changing area, it’s more or less a big closet lined with hooks to hang our stuff on.
I grab my apron out of my bag, and tie it around my waist. The dress code is pretty boring: black pants and a white T-shirt. At least I don’t have to wear any buttons or flashing lights.
“You’re late,” my boss Kevin says, his overgrown eyebrows narrowed and his gnarled finger pointing at me.
“Sorry, Kevin, won’t happen again.”
“Two customers just sat down at table six. I was going to give it to Melanie, but get on it.”
“I’m going.”
I grab two menus, plaster a smile across my face and make my way through the rows of tan wood booths in my section of the restaurant until I spot the table that’s just arrived.
“Good evening and welcome to Johnny’s Roadhouse. I’m Skye, and it’s great to see you both here tonight. The specials are on the first page of the menu.” I say this so many times each shift that I practically go into a trance now I pretend I’m looking at them, but really my eyes are scanning the license plates on the wall behind them.
When I finally do look at the couple, the woman sticks out. She doesn’t seem like she belongs in here. This isn’t exactly the kind of place where you wear an evening dress and sparkling earrings that hang to your shoulders, but clearly no one told her that. I want to ask her if she got lost on the way to the mansion party, but don’t. Wouldn’t want to mess up my tip.
I pass her a menu and turn my attention to the man. For a moment, I’m speechless as I take him in. He doesn’t look like he belongs with the woman. He’s wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt that’s pulled taut over his broad chest, with two full sleeves of tattoos on display. His dark hair is intentionally messy and there’s a day’s worth of stubble peppering his strong jaw. He’s most definitely appropriate for this joint. Or any joint.
He pulls the menu from my hand, and I realize I’ve been frozen in place instead of handing it over.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“No problem,” he says. He looks at me, and when we make eye contact a jolt rushes up my spine.
I let go of the menu and hurry to my station. It’s a cramped spot hidden in the back corner of the dining area; a place I can watch my tables without them seeing me. Normally I think of it as my jail cell, but tonight I use it to spy on the hot guy.
Drawn
(Lawson)
My eyes fix on that fine waitress’ ass as she walks away from our table. Skye, she said her name was. Appropriate for such a heavenly body.
Despite what my sister Julie had promised, my date had turned out to be yet another gold digger.
I hadn’t intended to bring Freya here. But when I picked her up and she was dressed that way, and she had giggled, actually fucking giggled, at every little thing I said, it had become pretty fucking obvious that she was more interested in my money than in me.
Why did I let my sister set me up on a blind date? I knew it would end up like this.