The Waiter Bradleigh Collins (autobiographies to read TXT) 📖

of years ago, Josh was offered a big promotion at the Ernst & Young headquarters in New York. He took it. Now he lives in a small one-bedroom apartment near Riverside Park.

“What time are we meeting your friends tonight?” I slathered butter on a piece of bread. The martini was working its magic and I was starting to relax a bit.

“Around nine or ten,” Josh said, finishing off his beer.

The Waiter was back with our food.

“Be careful, darlin’,” he said as he placed the dish in front of me. “This plate is really hot.”

Darlin’. Okay, he’s flirting with me.

“You guys ready for another round?”

Josh signaled yes.

“Oh, not for me, thanks,” I said. “I’m pacing myself.”

“Hot date tonight?” The Waiter asked.

“No. We’re just meeting some friends out later.”

“At the Bubble Lounge,” Josh interjected. I cut my eyes to look at him. “Sam’s leaving tomorrow, so we’re gonna do it up right tonight.”

“Oh, really? Where are you running off to?”

“Atlanta,” I replied. “Home.”

“Ah, I thought I detected a southern accent.”

“He has one too.” I pointed at Josh.

“Yeah, but his isn’t sexy,” The Waiter replied smiling at me. “I’ll be right back with that beer.”

Josh laughed. I sprinkled some fresh parmesan onto my fettuccini and took a bite. It was so good and I was so hungry that I didn’t even care if The Waiter saw me scarfing it down. After a few minutes, he came back with Josh’s beer and some more ice water for me.

“How is everything?”

“I love the spaghetti and meatballs here,” Josh replied. “I get it every time.”

“This is so good,” I said. “I think I need to take it back to my hotel so I can be alone with it.” Both Josh and The Waiter laughed.

“Where are you staying?”

“On the Ave Hotel. Broadway and 77th.”

“Oh, the one by Fishs Eddy?”

“Yeah. I love that store!”

“Have you been to the GreenFlea at Columbus?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh man, you gotta go before you leave. What time is your flight?”

“Six-thirty tomorrow night.”

“Wanna meet me there in the morning around ten?”

“Sure.” I could feel Josh smiling at me from across the table.

“Great!” The Waiter scooped up my empty glass. “It’s a date.”

He disappeared to the back of the restaurant again. My heart was racing. I looked across the table at Happy Buddha.

“What were you saying about having no game?” Josh asked.

“I can’t believe that just happened. No games. No wait two days. Just, ‘Hey, wanna hang out with me?’ Who does that?”

“Not me,” Josh said. “I’ve got game. But not that kinda game. That was smooth.”

I sat there stunned and discombobulated as we finished our meal. What are the odds that some random stranger I’d been lusting after this morning would be asking me out a few hours later? What are the odds that I would pick the very restaurant he worked at from a list in a magazine?

“Dinner is on me,” Josh said as he reached for his wallet. “I owe it to you for humiliating you.”

“Yes, you do. But I got the tip. And it’s gonna be a big one.”

“I’ll bet,” he laughed. “I’m going to the bathroom and then we’ll head out.”

Josh walked towards the back and handed The Waiter his credit card. I sat there at the table trying to calm myself as I watched the cabs whizzing down Columbus Avenue, stopping to pick up people and deliver them to their next New York minute. The sun was starting to set and another Saturday night was just getting started.

The Waiter was back. He placed the folio with Josh’s credit card on the table. Then he kneeled down beside me. We were face to face. I felt weak.

“So, Sammy.” God, even his voice was sexy. Very deep. Very New York. “Why don’t you write down your phone number in case I need to call you tomorrow.”

I somehow managed to form words. “I’ll give you my business card. It has my cell number on it.”

I reached into my backpack and pulled out a card. As I handed it over to him, my cell phone began to ring.

“Great,” The Waiter said. He put his hand on my bare knee as he started to stand up and leaned in closer.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Red.”

“Me too,” I smiled. He stood up and disappeared once again. I placed a few twenty-dollar bills in the folio.

My phone was still ringing. I retrieved it from the bottom of my backpack and looked down at the number on the screen. My heart stopped. It was Dalton.

CHAPTER 3

◆◆◆

Why the fuck is he calling me?

It’s all I could think about as Josh and I walked back to the hotel. I didn’t answer the phone. I turned it off and shoved it back into my bag as we left the restaurant. The restaurant where I’d just had my first New York minute. A minute I couldn’t even enjoy now because why the fuck is he calling me?

I didn’t tell Josh that Dalton called. I wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen. No way was I going to let him spoil my last night in the city. Dalton had a knack - an almost psychic ability - to insert himself back into my life right at the very moment I was ready to move on.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Josh said as we waited to cross the street. “Are you thinking about your new lover?”

“No, I’m thinking about what to wear tonight.”

“Yeah, Tribeca’s a bit more upscale. I’m actually gonna have to find a clean shirt with a collar.”

We walked up Broadway until we reached 77th Street.

“I’m gonna grab the one train uptown,” Josh said. “I’ll meet you back here around nine and we’ll take a cab.”

I hugged him goodbye and headed up to my room. As soon as I got inside, I sat down on the bed and took out my phone. I turned it on and waited. The screen lit up. And there it was. A new voice mail message from Dalton. I felt sick. My