The flush returned to her cheeks. “What? Of course not.”
“Liar. You had sex. It’s written all over your face.” Trisha’s eyes lit up. “Tony’s still in town?”
Since it was the perfect out, she quickly nodded in confirmation. “Yep. Still here.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“I want details! You obviously got laid last night. I, on the other hand, went to a high school basketball game with Lou. I can’t even remember the last time I had an orgasm, so I really need to live vicariously through you.”
Fortunately their manager walked over and put an end to the conversation before she could answer. Unfortunately, Linda’s brisk strides and the frown on her face told Maggie that her manager wasn’t happy.
“Trisha, tend to your tables,” Linda said in lieu of greeting.
Looking puzzled by the older woman’s harsh tone, Trisha simply nodded and hurried away.
Linda turned to Maggie. “I need to speak with you.”
She was feeling a little puzzled herself. Straightening out the bottom of her apron, she leaned awkwardly against the counter and shot her boss a quizzical look. “What’s up?”
“A complaint was made about you.”
“What?”
“A customer filed a complaint after you left on Saturday.” Linda’s frown deepened. “Apparently you were ridiculing his drink order. He was very unhappy with your behavior.”
Ridiculing a drink order?
She ran over Saturday night’s events in her mind, trying to remember everyone she’d served. She didn’t recall being particularly rude to anyone. It wasn’t her style to be rude and she honestly couldn’t think of what she might have said to warrant a complaint.
Obviously sensing her bewilderment, Linda added, “The customer said he felt you were belittling his masculinity.”
Oh. Oh. The memory of Wayne the daiquiri man entered her brain. She’d been thinking about Ben at the time, distracted by the fact that he was waiting outside for her and demanding to stay at her apartment, but she’d apologized for the remark, hadn’t she? No, of course she’d apologized. Evidently the customer hadn’t been satisfied with that.
“I wasn’t belittling him,” she said in her defense. “I was distracted and said something—to myself. I explained to him that I wasn’t referring to him or his drink.”
“Regardless, he was unhappy, and unhappy customers are bad for business. I know you’ve been busy with your school work, Maggie, but try to stay focused when you’re here at the Olive. I’m not going to put the complaint in your file, but I just want you to be aware of it.”
“All right. Um, thanks for letting me know.” She played with the tie of her apron, adding, “It won’t happen again, Linda.”
“Good. Don’t forget, Jeremy will be here next week, so everyone needs to be on top of their game. Best behavior, okay? Don’t antagonize customers.”
She wanted to protest that she hadn’t antagonized anyone, but Linda was already walking away.
With a small sigh, she grabbed her tray and headed for the couple who’d just seated themselves at one of her tables. She pasted a smile on her face and diligently took their order, all the while thinking about how she couldn’t wait to get home. Ben Barrett might be a movie star, not to mention a huge headache, but he was damn good in bed. And right now, she could really use another orgasm. Or two. Or ten.
It only took three days for Ben to realize that Maggie Reilly needed a lot more than sex. She needed a goddamn vacation.
He honestly couldn’t understand how she lived the way she did. Her life revolved around work and school, and her self-discipline was almost mind-boggling. She spent the mornings studying and writing papers, and the afternoons at the community center where she volunteered. Then she came home and buried her nose in a textbook for a couple more hours. By the evening, she was getting ready to go to work, where she spent the night waiting tables. She came home around two a.m. and went straight to bed. She ate only when he forced her to, and shot down his suggestions that she take a walk or watch some television with him. In fact, the only time she actually seemed grateful for his company was when they were in bed together.
It almost made him feel slutty—that she seemed more interested in his body than in his attempts for them to get to know each other. Not that he was complaining about the sex. If anything, the sex only got better each time they got naked.