Ethan
I sank into my ice-filled tub and groaned. Lola had declared my pants a “coffee-tastrophe” and told me to go home for the rest of the day.
I couldn’t believe that Sweet Seasons waitress for blaming the wasted coffee on me. The audacity. The gall. The nerve!
I wanted to threaten to sue Sweet Seasons once she was done babbling about how it wasn’t her fault, but I knew there wouldn’t be any point in that.
I didn’t feel the coffee dripping into my lap at first because I was too busy looking at her, wishing she would look back at me. She was the same woman who fell backwards in Autumn Wonder days ago—except she wasn’t really a blonde and I still couldn’t figure out where I knew her from.
Although I was furious with her, I couldn’t deny that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life. Even with her raven-black hair in a simple ponytail, she was stunning. Absolutely stunning.
I wondered what she would be like outside of work, if she would consider going out with me.
I grabbed my phone from the ledge and called Barry.
“Ethan?” he sounded surprised. “What’s going on buddy?”
“I never want to hear that story about you and your stupid jellyfish again. A waitress poured a whole pot of scorching coffee in my lap today and I’m pretty sure she did it on purpose.”
“Ouch! Did you go to the ER?”
“No…Turns out our employee uniform pants are pretty heat resistant, but my thighs still hurt like crazy.”
“Good to know. By the way, I got your reports earlier. I’m presenting them to the board first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Great. Tell me something,” I suddenly thought about Lola. “Do we drug test our employees? Like, thoroughly?”
“Um yeah? We give one before hire and two random ones a year. Why do you ask?”
We need to increase it to six…
“Just wondering. Listen, I’m not so sure about this expansion site now,” I sighed. “It seems like we have some pretty decent competition outside of Starbucks. A lot of locals are addicted to this place called Sweet Seasons. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to put them out of business by December, even though that would be ideal…”
“Oh yeah, Sweet Seasons! They make great pies!”
“You knew they existed?” I tried to sit up.
“Duh! Look, don’t worry about that. They’re not a factor. Trust me. They’re a novelty but they’re not changing with the times. I doubt they’ll remain open much longer, especially with us in town.”
“I don’t know…Everyone loves the way they make their food, even our own employees.”
“They are pretty good, so good that they’re not even willing to sell us their recipes,” he paused. “Wait. Why don’t you order each of their pies and express ship them to Boston? We could have our chef team recreate them and incorporate the best ones into all of our Southern menus. We did the same thing with another shop’s stuff all over the East Coast.”
“Excellent idea. I’ll ship some tomorrow,” I hung up.
Once my limbs were completely numb, I dragged my body out of the tub and wrapped myself in a robe. I walked into my bedroom and spotted the pink to go box from Sweet Seasons.
I hadn’t had the chance to taste the cherry bourbon pie yet, but I refused to believe that one pie could be that amazing.
I cut a slice and examined it. It looked just like the one we served at Autumn Wonder: sugar coated oats atop the surface, lightly toasted crust, and layers of cherries and red flavored filling peeping from both sides.
I broke off a piece and tossed it into my mouth. I broke off another piece. Then another piece. Then I devoured the rest of the pie whole.
Twenty out of ten…
I went to Sweet Seasons for breakfast, lunch, and dinner over the next few days—ordering double of every pie: one for me and one for the chef team in Boston.
Of course, I also wanted the chance to talk to that waitress again, but she was always pre-occupied. By the time she was free, it was time for me to head back to work or go on another pointless date.
I tried getting her attention with my eyes, but she would blush and turn away, or rush into the kitchen each time. I even tried blatantly motioning for her to come over to my table, but she would just stare at me for a few seconds before running off.
I didn’t know why, but I felt drawn to her even though our only conversation had been about my lunch order.
I’d never been intrigued by a woman at first sight before—at first credit score check maybe, but never at first sight.
After getting off late on Wednesday, I rushed over to Sweet Seasons to get another box of cherry bourbon pie before they closed. It really was addictive.
I took a seat in the back and smiled as the sexy waitress approached my table. Her glossy black hair was hanging free today—in large loose curls that framed her face. Her cheeks were flushed red, and she was tucking in her lips for some reason.