The Waiter Bradleigh Collins (autobiographies to read TXT) 📖

me. If we’re seeing other people, that can never happen.”

“I would never cheat on you.”

“You say that now, but you have no idea what’s going to happen when you’re in L.A. And I have no idea what’s gonna happen here. The way I look at, we have two logical choices. We break up or we just take a step back and see how thing go.”

“Meaning?”

“You said you weren’t going to be in L.A. forever, right? That eventually you guys would open a gym here in Manhattan and you’d be back.”

“Yeah, that’s been my plan all along.”

“So, baby. Go do your thing. Make it happen. And we’ll just do the best we can until you’re back.”

“Fuck!” he yelled as he laid back on the bed. “This is not what I want. I know you’re right, but this is so not what I wanted for us.”

“I have something for you.” I got up and walked over to my desk in the living room. I walked back into the bedroom and handed him an envelope.

“What’s this?” He sat up on the bed.

“An early Valentine’s Day present.” He opened the envelope. It contained six round-trip tickets from New York to Los Angeles. I had gone ahead and booked myself a monthly weekend trip to California for the next six months. He looked up at me and smiled.

“See?” I said as he reached over and wrapped his arms around me. “We’re still going to see each other. At least once a month for the next six months.”

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too.”

The Chinese food would have to wait, because we spent the next two hours in bed. Lying in his arms afterwards, I actually felt more relieved than sad. I knew I’d made the right decision. And I think, deep down, he knew it too.

“Can we eat now?” I asked.

“I just did,” he replied, laughing. I smiled at him.

“And can we stay in and do this for the rest of weekend?”

“Yes, my love. We can.”

I was hoping we could parlay the “staying in” trend for Valentine’s Day too, but The Waiter was not about to let that happen.

Monday night, he’d made arrangements for us to have a private romantic dinner at Pomodoro. He wanted to say goodbye to all the people he’d been working with and he knew we’d get the royal treatment, which we did.

When I arrived at Pomodoro after work and sat down at the table, he handed me an envelope.

“I matched you,” he said. Inside the envelope were six round-trip tickets he had booked for himself. “Now we’ll be seeing each other at least twice a month for the next six months.”

I got up and went over to hug him. He pulled me into his lap. “We’ll figure this thing out, Red. I promise.” Then he kissed me.

Alfred, the manager of Pomodoro, came over to our table with a bottle of champagne. “I see we’re already celebrating.”

“We are,” The Waiter replied.

“Sammy, why are you letting him move to California? You know he’s my best waiter.”

“I do know that, Alfred. But he’ll be back.” I winked at The Waiter.

“Yeah, but he won’t be a waiter,” Alfred said. “He’ll end up buying the restaurant.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” The Waiter said. Alfred popped the champagne and poured us both a glass.

“Cheers to you two. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

As he walked away, I got up from The Waiter’s lap and returned to my seat.

“A toast,” he said, holding up his glass of champagne. “And a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Look,” he said. “I know things are about to change between us. But no matter what, next year, Valentine’s Day, you and me, right here. This restaurant. This table. What do you say, Red?”

I smiled across the table at him. “I say it’s a date.”

CHAPTER 37

◆◆◆

The night before The Waiter officially moved to California, we all gathered for dinner at Rancho. Surprisingly, I was in a pretty upbeat mood. I was also on my second frozen mango margarita, which probably had something to do with it. Tonight was both a celebration for The Waiter and a coming together of my support system. My support system was drunk.

“You know you’re not leaving without singing karaoke tonight,” Lucy said to The Waiter. “You’ve never done it before.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Katie said.

“Stop!” I yelled. “I’ll start crying right here! Right now!”

“Babe, you’re gonna see me in like five days.”

It was true. I was flying out to Los Angeles on Friday for the weekend. But something about tonight just felt so final.

“I know. But still. It’s New Year’s Eve all over again.”

“Oh god. Here she goes with the New Year’s Eve thing.”

“It’s true! What was I doing at midnight on New Year’s Eve?”

“You were drunk and crying,” everyone at the table said in unison.

“See? And I’m gonna be drunk and crying tonight, and I’m gonna be drunk and crying all fucking year. I told you guys.”

“You are so freaking cute,” The Waiter said, leaning over again and kissing me. “You know what else you were doing at midnight?”

“What?”

“Kissing me.”

“Yeah.”

“And what are you doing right now?”

“Kissing you.”

“Exactly.”

After dinner, we gathered for a group photo. Josh climbed up on Rancho’s signature saddle stool at the bar and struck a cowboy pose with his hand high in the air.

“Bull riding,” The Waiter said. “That should be your next hobby if you get tired of karaoke.”

Josh laughed.

“Man, I’m sorry I’m not gonna be in town the weekend of your birthday. I’ve got a trade show in San Francisco.”

“I know,” Josh said. “Sam told me. You’ll be missed. Especially by this one.” He motioned towards me.

One of the waitresses snapped a few photos of our group as we all gathered around Josh. I smiled, even though I knew that every time I looked at this photo in the future it would remind me of The Waiter’s last night in town. And every time, it would break my fucking heart.

We left Rancho and walked down