The Waiter Bradleigh Collins (autobiographies to read TXT) 📖

so spontaneous and romantic and he was just so...so, I don’t know...matter of fact. Hey, I like you. Hey, let’s hang out. Hey, I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“How was the kiss? Was there tongue?”

“There was until the bus came.”

Dana had been my best friend since grammar school and we still did everything together. Everybody loved her. She was one of the most driven and authentic people I knew and was great at her job. Dana worked as a public relations manager and had a natural ability for putting people at ease. She was also the spitting image of a young Jodie Foster, with piercing blue eyes and skin I’d been jealous of since the day I met her.

“How is my buddy Josh doing?” Dana and Josh dated briefly in high school, but they soon became more like brother and sister.

“Same old Josh. We had a blast. I hooked him up with a girl. Katie. You’d like her.”

“I love Josh.”

“Everybody loves Josh. He was in rare form this weekend.”

We merged onto the interstate. The Atlanta skyline glared at me. I felt guilty. I had been cheating on her after all.

“What’s Simon up to tonight?” Dana and Simon had been dating for the last three years and living together for the last two. Simon was one of the good guys. He was a handsome graphic designer and avid runner. He was crazy about Dana.

"He’s home watching the Cowboys-Broncos game."

“Oh, I’m taping Sex & the City tonight,” I said. “Wanna come over tomorrow and watch it?”

“Isn’t this week’s the one with Jon Bon Jovi?”

“Yep.”

“Then yes, definitely.”

“Thanks for picking me up at the airport.”

“Of course! I couldn’t wait to hear about your weekend.”

“Well, I have something else to tell you, but I need a margarita first.”

“Oh god. This has to involve Dalton.” She knew him way too well. She knew us way too well. Dana had been there from the very beginning of our relationship. She never once had a problem telling Dalton what a dick he was to his face and, oddly enough, he adored her for that. When things were good between Dalton and me, Dana loved him like a brother. When they were bad, she despised him. But she also knew how much I loved him, and she was always rooting for our relationship to work.

We arrived at the restaurant around ten and grabbed a table outside. Soon our regular order of frozen margaritas and cheese dip appeared. I told her about the phone call.

“He’s so fucking predictable.” She stirred her margarita with a straw. “He always does this.”

I nodded. “It’s the only thing I can depend on him for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how many times has he left me stranded at the airport? I mean, I could never even count on him to pick me up, which is why I always ask you. But anytime I’m experiencing a little happiness that doesn’t involve him, he shows up like clockwork.”

“Yep, every time,” Dana agreed. “And orgasms.”

“What?”

“That’s the other thing you could always depend on him for. Mind-blowing orgasms.”

“Like I needed that reminder.”

“Hey, maybe the hot waiter can help you out with that,” she laughed. “Aren’t you the least bit curious what the voice mail said?”

“Of course. I mean, I hope it’s not something bad and that everyone in his family is okay. I would feel terrible if something happened.”

“Michelle would have called you if it was an emergency.” Michelle was Dalton’s sister. We were good friends. She always took my side over his and would regularly apologize for her brother “being such an asshole.”

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

“Because you always take him back.”

“Not this time.”

“Why do you always take him back? You always say never, and then you let him right back in.”

“Because I don’t want to be alone. I hate being the odd man out. Party of three. Party of five. Plus, I keep thinking he’ll change. That we’ll change together. Grow together.”

“You really think Dalton’s capable of change?”

“Why not? I’m constantly rearranging my life for him.”

“And there you have it,” Dana said.

“What?”

“Think about what you just said. Your life revolves around Dalton. His needs. His schedule. His ego. Sam, I know you love him, but sometimes you just have to let go of someone you love for your own good.”

As usual, she was right. I had no response. No defense. So I ordered another margarita.

After dinner, we headed back to my apartment. Dana wanted to borrow a dress to wear to a work function later that week, so she came upstairs. My apartment was on the third floor of an old Ford factory where they used to make Model T cars. It was built in 1915 and converted to lofts in the mid-eighties. The building shared a parking lot with a grocery store that was known as “Murder Kroger” after a girl was shot and killed there. There was also a nearby liquor store and several retail shops underneath, including a nail salon, Chinese restaurant, and the infamous Model T Drag Bar. It was an incredibly cool place to live, and despite the Murder Kroger moniker, I always felt safe.

My apartment, however, was anything but cool. I opened the door and was assaulted by the heat.

“And I’m officially in hell.”

I sat my suitcase down and turned on the air conditioner. Dana made a beeline for my closet.

“Oh, I have something for you!” I shouted at her in the next room. I opened my backpack and took out the pashmina and a couple of bars of the mint soap. The smell took me right back to the flea market and right back to The Waiter. I smiled. Dana walked back in with the dress and hung it on the doorknob. I handed her the goodies.

“Oh this is beautiful!” She wrapped the black pashmina around her shoulders. “It’s so soft. And these smell amazing! Thank you! Okay, I gotta pee and then I gotta go.”

She sat the soaps down on the table and disappeared into the bathroom, still wearing