The Waiter Bradleigh Collins (autobiographies to read TXT) 📖

York and The Waiter and I attempt the long-distance relationship thing. I still lose. Over time, and over this much distance, our relationship would eventually fade away. I didn’t want that either. And I definitely didn’t want The Waiter to give up his dream for me. The only logical choice would be for us to break up and go our separate ways. All that logic went out the window when The Waiter walked out wearing nothing but his underwear.

“Damn, you look good in a tan,” I said, looking him up and down.

“And you look good in my robe.” He hugged me. Then we stood there looking out at the ocean. “Tell me you couldn’t get used to these sunrises.”

“Of course I could.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I can make you breakfast.”

“Not really. You?”

“I want you for breakfast,” he said.

“Well, I can’t say no to that tan. Or those abs. You’ll probably end up on a Calvin Klein billboard in Hollywood soon.”

We spent the entire morning in bed. Afterwards, we got dressed and drove up the Pacific Coast Highway to meet Nick at Gladstone’s in Malibu. The drive alone was enough to make me reconsider moving out here. It was just as beautiful as it was in the movies. Even more so. Sitting on the deck at Gladstone’s overlooking the beach had me wondering if Jackie would ever think about opening an office here. California was reeling me in.

“There she is!” Nick yelled as he approached our table. I stood up and hugged him. He picked me up and swung me around. “How are you gorgeous?”

“I’m good, Nick. How are you?”

“Great,” he replied. “How you like this weather?”

“It’s incredible. I think it’s like thirty-two degrees in New York today.”

“So you could get used to this?”

“I could totally get used to this.”

“Good. Because this guy’s missed you like crazy,” he said, referring to The Waiter. I looked over and smiled at him. There he and Nick sat, wearing their Aviator sunglasses and looking very Hollywood.

“I’m gonna have to start calling you guys Ponch and John,” I said laughing. They looked like characters from the 1980s hit television show C.H.I.P.S.

“I get to be Ponch,” Nick said.

The three of us sat out on the deck, eating and drinking for two hours. I listened to them discuss their plans for the gym and what they had to do over the next several weeks. I couldn’t help but be excited for them. And after a second appletini, I started to wonder what my life would like if I did move out here. Now I was more confused than ever. Or maybe I was just drunk. At three o’clock in the afternoon.

“I’ll be right back, babe,” The Waiter said, leaning down to kiss me and then disappearing towards the bathroom.

“He’s crazy about you,” Nick said.

“I’m pretty crazy about him too.”

“You know he’s not going to do this deal if you don’t move out here.”

“What?” His statement hit me like a line drive to the face. Whatever buzz I had from my martini times two suddenly vanished.

“He said he’s not doing it without you. That if you didn’t move out here, he wasn’t moving either. He said I’d have to find another partner.”

“Oh god, Nick.”

“He loves you, Sam. He loves you more than he loves this business.”

“Nick, I promise you, you will not have to find another partner. Don’t even worry about it.”

“So you’re gonna move?”

“I don’t know yet. But I swear to you I won’t let him give this up. Under any circumstances.”

“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“Of course not. And Nick, I appreciate you telling me.”

We left Gladstone’s and drove back to Santa Monica to tour the space, which was just off Wilshire Boulevard. The building was enormous. It had two stories with a loft-like atmosphere, a gorgeous view of the ocean, and rooftop access. We walked through the space, as Nick and The Waiter pointed out where everything would go. There was a retractable part of the ceiling that would allow climbers on the rock wall to access the roof but could be closed when it rained, which apparently it never did in California. There was enough room to have four full-sized boxing rings - two on the main floor and two upstairs. And the aerialist training area was right by the front windows so that anyone walking or driving by would be able to see people inside dangling from the ceiling.

“This place is perfect,” I said to them as we stood on top of the roof. “It’s absolutely perfect.” After my conversation with Nick, I wanted to make sure that everything I said and everything I did from now on would encourage The Waiter to stay. Plus, just being here and watching him talk about it, seeing how excited he was about the whole thing, further cemented my decision that he had to do this.

Later that night, The Waiter and I went down to the Santa Monica pier and rode the Ferris wheel. I didn’t stop smiling all night. And it was genuine. I decided to let go of all the “what ifs” and just try to enjoy whatever moments we had together, for however long we would have them.

When the Ferris wheel began stopping to let people off, we were perched at the very top. You could see for miles. The twinkling lights of Los Angeles in the distance seemed to be winking at me, as if they knew something I didn’t. I leaned over and kissed The Waiter passionately, like it was our last kiss on earth.

At that moment, I still didn’t know if I wanted to move to L.A. But I knew he had to.

CHAPTER 35

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“Did you spend the entire weekend having sex? Because you don’t have even the slightest hint of a tan.”

It was the first thing Lucy said when I sat down at the table. I promised to meet her and Katie at Gramercy Tavern on Monday for dinner and a debriefing.

“You guys know I can’t