- Unwanted Attention

Working on my last house for the day, it’s the most nerve-wracking one. A married couple with three kids under the age of nine, and the wife has OCD. I know, why would anyone with OCD hire someone else to clean their house? I’ve already caught her recleaning a few areas that I’ve cleaned, but I’ve been working for them for the past two years, so I guess I’m still doing a decent job. The Morrison’s are good people, though, and they have always been really nice to me. Sometimes they ask me to babysit for them, but I always have to pass, because I don’t trust myself around little kids. I used to babysit all the time when I was in high school, but the way my attitude has changed over the years, I don’t want to take it out on any child. I like kids, although I doubt I will ever have any of my own. There’s no way I in hell I would want to bring an innocent child into this fucked up world.

When I’m done with the Morrison house, I say my goodbyes, and then head to the bus stop. I used to drive mom’s old Toyota, but it finally took a shit a few months back, and I have no money to fix it or get a new car. Besides, it’s cheaper taking the bus or walking. I don’t have to worry about gas prices or having the extra money to fix something when it breaks down. I enjoy walking, and when I do have to take the bus, I just keep my head down and mind my own business. Nobody ever bothers me this way and I don’t offend anyone by looking at them the wrong way. Keeping to myself has worked for me so far, no need to change things.

Before my mom got shot, she was always bugging me about getting out and hanging with friends or telling me that I need to start dating. Who has time for that when you’re trying to just get through life in one piece? My mom was my best friend for years. After Knox moved away and decided to never contact me again, I had a few close friends, but then we lost everything, my friends were included. So, it was always just mom and me. That is until the shooting.

I still think back on some of my younger days when I had a normal childhood. Knox and I were glued at the hip. I know he had it a little rougher with his home life, but I tried to make up for it by always being there for him. I always thought that we would be friends forever. I still remember the words he whispered to me all those years ago. I look down at the twine that I still wear around my right ring finger. It is not the same exact one, I outgrew that one, but I made myself a new one, keeping the original in an old jewelry box at home. I am not sure why I continue wearing it, when I haven’t seen him in about eight years. Maybe it is just to remind me that there are good people in this world, even if they can only stay for a little while. I had ten years with my best friend, and I will always cherish that time that we had together. Sometimes those memories are what helps me get through the lonely times.

My thoughts are interrupted when the bus pulls up to the stop. I greet the old driver with a smile as usual and walk to the back of the bus. It is always less crowded in the back, and I can take a quick fifteen-minute nap before I get to where I’m going. I sink down into my seat, and just before I close my eyes, I see a familiar pair of light blue eyes. I blink quick, but the person has already gotten into the parked car across the street. I shake my head and chuckle to myself. It was only my imagination. A lot of people have light blue eyes. Besides, the guy I saw was over six foot and looked mean. I cannot imagine my old friend growing to be that big, or that mean-looking. I relax back into my seat and close my eyes. Memories taking me back to when I once was happy.

Walking into the hospital that my mom is at is depressing. It is not the new big one on the other side of the city, that one is for the people who have money. No, mom’s hospital is rundown and in need of new equipment, but it is cheaper. Most of the staff are nice and they seem to know what they are doing, but they aren’t paid as well as the hoity toity docs at the new hospital. As long as my mom gets the care that she needs, I’m okay with it.

“Hey Mama, it’s a beautiful day outside!” I say cheerfully, as I walk into her room. I don’t expect a response, but I like to think that she can hear me, so I always try to sound happy. I drag the chair over to the side of her bed and take her hand. For the next hour I sit and chat away, telling her make believe stories about how my life is going. I don’t know if she will ever wake up, but I don’t want her hearing how sad my life is and making her feel bad about it. So, I lie.

Just as I am getting ready to leave, her doctor walks into her room. “Ah, Aria! I am glad I caught you. Do you have a minute?” He asks, hopefully.

Dr. Hildreth is a good-looking guy in his mid-thirties, unmarried, and no kids. He is one of the nicest guys I have ever met and has a big heart. He has hinted around about meeting up outside the hospital a few times, but I am not interested in him that way. I don’t have time for guys, and I really don’t want to ruin his soft-hearted nature with my blackened heart.

I answer his question with a slight nod before stepping outside of my mom’s room. “What did you want to talk to me about, Dr, Hildreth?”

He grins, “I’ve told you that you can call me Steffen. No need to be so formal.”

I grit my teeth but continue to be nice, “Oh yes, I forget. What did you want to talk to me about, Steffen?”

Me using his name must really make him happy because he gives me the biggest smile, flashing his straight, white teeth at me. “Well, I thought maybe we could get a cup of coffee and go over your mother’s care.”

He sounds very hopeful that I am going to say yes, so it doesn’t give me any pleasure to know that I’m going to disappoint him once more. “I’m sorry, Steffen, but I’m terribly busy. I need to head to the diner for my next shift.” I try to sound like I am really sorry, but I don’t know if he buys it.

The sad smile he gives me almost breaks my heart, but he seriously needs to give up. He waves his hand back and forth between us, “Of course you’re busy. I should have known better.” Tucking his hands in his pockets, he continues, “I just wanted to discuss your mother’s options again.”

I know exactly where this is going to lead to, so I hold my hand up, “Steffen, I’m not taking her off life support yet. I have already told you this many times. It hasn’t been that long, and you said yourself that there is a possibility that she will wake up.”

“That was over a year ago, Aria.” He looks sad, “The chances have slimmed since then, and to be honest, I don’t think she is going to wake up.” He then pulls her medical chart out of its slot on the wall by her door

and flips through a few pages, “Her last scan shows that there has been no improvement. I’m sorry.”

Instead of standing there and listening to what he is trying to tell me, I turn and start to walk away. I hear him call my name but all I do is raise my hand in farewell, and walk through the double doors, leaving Steffen standing outside my mom’s room shaking his head.

I make it to the diner with ten minutes to spare before my shift starts. Patty and Beth are finishing with the dinner rush but they both wave and smile at me as I make my way back to the employee breakroom. There are only three servers and one night cook. Patrick is both owner and day shift cook, and one of the best bosses that I have ever worked for. I rotate shifts with Patty and Beth throughout the week, so we can all have the opportunity to make generous tips during the rush hours. Tonight is my turn to have the more laid-back shift. Not too many customers come in during the night shift unless it is the weekend.

Bobby, the night shift cook greets me with a fist bump on my way back to the front. I really like working here, but only because of the awesome crew. It helps the time go by faster, no matter how dead it is. Even Patrick is fun to work with. He is only in his late thirties, so he tries so hard to remain cool with the rest of us. It is kind of cute in a way.

Tying my apron around my waist, I wait until Patty and Beth are finished counting the register and refilling the condiments on the tables. Once they are done, they throw their aprons into the dirty bin and clock out. That is my cue to clock myself in and take a few minutes to catch up with the girls before they leave me on my own. This crew is the closest thing to friends that I have, but I still keep them all at a distance. I feel it is best this way; no need to have more heartbreak when they decide to leave my life like everyone else.

- An Unexpected Invite

It’s Friday. Most normal people would wake up and be happy because it is the end of the work week. Not for this girl. I groan as my alarm starts blaring beside me. It takes me three tries to shut the damn thing off. Finally, I yank the plug out of the wall and the noise stops. It was a late night at the diner after some high schoolers came in and decided to have a food fight. They were sneaky little bastards, being quiet, so they would not get caught. By the time I made my way over to them with their ticket, it had looked like a war zone. I don’t think any of them actually ate. I made them pay and then kicked them out. Lucky for me, Bobby offered to help me clean it up once his kitchen was in order. We were finally locking up by two in the morning.

Since it is Friday, the diner stays open until the wee hours of the morning, so the bar patrons can come in for their greasy food cravings. I offered to take Beth’s night shift so she could go out on a date with Erik, a guy she met on one of those dating sites. I think that’s what his name is; maybe it is Eli or Eddie. It’s something that starts with an E, anyway. She has been going on about needing to get laid for the last few weeks, so I’m crossing my fingers and hopefully Eli, or whoever, will help the poor girl out. Either way, I am working a double shift at the diner, and I have a few houses to clean beforehand.

It is barely even light outside, but I know that if I don’t get up now and shower, I won’t have time for my two cups of coffee. Believe me, nobody wants to deal with Aria Kramer without her second cup of Joe! Dragging myself out of bed, I’m like a zombie as I walk over to my dresser for clothes. I live alone, so I can technically walk around naked if I wanted to, but I always keep the thermostat at sixty degrees to help save on the bill. I have tried getting out of the shower and walking to my room without any clothes on. By the time I get to my room I can cut glass with my nipples, and I hate being cold like that.

I reach in to turn the shower on, but nothing comes out. “Great. Just fucking great!” I turn toward the sink and turn those nobs and still nothing. “Seriously? Can I not get a stinking break, already?” I shout up at the ceiling, not really knowing who I am yelling at. I know I paid my bill, which means the POS Manager isn’t doing his job. The profanity running through my head right now would make the devil himself blush. I guess it’s foolish to ask for just one thing to go my way. This right here is another example as to why I don’t depend on anyone else.

“Well, a whore’s bath it is then!” I say aloud as I grab the package of flushable wipes. Throwing my hair up into a messy bun, I pull a few wipes out and start washing my body down. Since I have a little extra time by not showering, I will use that extra time to hunt down the Manager and demand that he fixes the plumbing problem by tonight. Not that he will listen, but I can try anyway.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and go back to throw on some mascara and a little lip gloss. There is absolutely no sense in piling on makeup just to clean and serve food. I will sweat it off anyway. Looking at my reflection, I admit that one of the things I have going for me is that I have flawless skin. My skin coloring has just enough pigment to look like I tan, but it’s all natural. Then there are my eyes. I have never really seen an eye color like my own; they are a blue-violet color. The wavy, raven locks and long, dark lashes that I have, make my eyes stand out more. I’ve tried changing my hair color, but nothing else looks good on me. Although, I did try a purple in my hair when I was eighteen, and I really liked that one. Probably because it matched the violet in my eyes, but that phase didn’t last long.

Rushing out the door, not watching where I’m going, I slam into someone walking by my door. “Oh! I am so sorry!” I glance up, and for once, luck is on my side. The Manager is glaring at me, but I completely ignore the look. “Mr. Sanders! I was just coming to look for you.”

“Oh really?” He salaciously licks his lips while looks me up and down, “What can I do for you this morning, Miss Kramer?”

‘Ew…gross, dude’ I think to myself. I put a fake smile on and address the issue, “Mr. Sanders, I was not able to shower this morning due to not having water.” I know what he is about to say, so I quickly continue, “I am caught up on all my bills, so I know that this is an in-house problem. If you could please have the plumbing checked out, and hopefully working by tonight, I would be so grateful.” I give him just a little bit of a flirtatious smile to sweeten the pot.

A pink tinge creeps into his face and he smiles, “Of course, Miss Kramer. I will look into it right away. I am so sorry for any inconvenience.” He takes a slight step toward me, “If it makes you feel any better, you still look ravishing this morning.”

As his eyes start to roam down my body once again, I turn around and rush down the hall, “You are too kind, Mr. Sanders. Thank you!” I don’t slow down until I’m outside the apartment complex. I take a moment to shudder and be grossed out before I rush off to the bus stop. I make it there with no time to spare. Hurrying up the steps, I make my way to my usual seat. When I glance out the window, I see the same guy as I saw last time; the one I thought could have been Knox. My heart saddens a bit again for the loss of that friendship, but I soon put it out of my mind since there is nothing that I can do about it.

The rest of my morning goes pretty well, until I get to my last cleaning job at the Morrison’s. I use the code that they gave me to get in through the back door as usual. With my ear buds in and my music blaring, I walk over to the utility closet and pull out the cleaning cart with everything that I will need to get the job done. I feel like I should work at a hotel or something. It’s not like I can take the cart up the stairs, so it is kind of pointless if you ask me. None of my other houses have a cart; they have baskets with handles, and different compartments for each item, and it is so much easier to handle, but whatever.

I always start with the upstairs and work my way down because I find it a little easier. Alicia Keys’ song, Girl on Fire, starts playing in my ears, and I bob my head to it while I’m looking the supplies over to make sure nothing needs restocking. Once I’m sure that all is stocked, I make my way through the kitchen. Just as I turn the corner to the living room, the chorus starts and I can’t help but belt out the lyrics, “THIS GIRL IS ON FIRE…”

Never have I ever screamed as loud as I do now, while jumping back and knocking the whole cleaning cart over. The house is supposed to be empty, but apparently the owners must have forgotten that I come in on Fridays. I’m sure they weren’t expecting me to find Mrs. Morrison to be bent over the couch with Mr. Morrison thrusting his hips behind her.

“Oh, my God!” I cover my eyes with my hand, “I am so sorry! I didn’t hear…shit!” I don’t even know what to say. I pull my ear buds out right away. My heart is pounding a mile a minute and I am so freaking embarrassed.

“It’s quite alright,” I hear Mrs. Morrison pants, “We completely lost track of time, didn’t we honey?”

I pull my hand away and glance over at the couple, but they’re still naked, so I quickly look away. “Um, I will just go ahead and start upstairs then.” What else am I supposed to say?

“You got some lungs on you, Aria.” Mr. Morrison chuckles, “You scared the shit out of us!” He is still just standing there, as naked as the day he was born, and obviously not caring.

“I apo-apologize for scaring you.” I stutter as I make my way toward the staircase.

Mrs. Morrison giggles, “No worries, sweetie.” She clears her throat, “Uh, would you like to join us?”

Her offer blows me away. What the hell? Who were these people? How do I even answer that question? Think Aria, think! They are nice people, and I really need to keep this job, but there is no way I’m joining whatever it is they want me to join.

I smile without looking over at them, “Uh, thanks for asking, but I better get my work done. I have a busy day ahead of me.” I grab the items I need for upstairs and start up the steps as normal as I can.

“Oh, that’s okay dear. Maybe another time, then.” Mrs. Morrison responds. I can hear the disappointment in her voice, but I really do not care. Yuck. How do I get this whole incident out of my head? All I see is Mr. Morrison’s ass moving back and forth before he jumps at my voice. I do chuckle a bit remembering the part where he jumps back with his arm flailing out. Not gonna lie though, Mr. Morrison has a very nice backside.

- Service With A Smile

After the morning I had, keeping my mind off the disturbing images that are now permanently in my head, is actually not so hard while working the diner. The lunch hour rush was a doozie and now we are heading into the dinner rush. My co-workers got a good laugh at my disastrous morning, and every so often they break out to the Girl on Fire chorus. Why I thought it was a clever idea to tell Patrick and Patty about it is beyond me. I definitely won’t be making that mistake when Bobby comes on shift.

“Table nine’s order is up!” Patrick yells from behind the counter.

That’s me. I grab a tray and load the four plates on top of it. When I get to the table, I carefully unload the tray. I almost wear the last plate of mac and cheese when the toddler tries standing up on the bench and hits the tray. Luckily, I have been waitressing for years and can handle an out-of-control tray. It doesn’t make me any less annoyed, though. I just put on a smile, and say, “It’s okay, kids will be kids,” rub their head and walk away, hoping they do not see me grimace as soon as I turn around.

I notice another table in my section has two new customers, so I quickly fill a couple of glasses with ice water and grab some menus. As I near the table, I notice the occupants are a couple of guys. The closer I get, the more I notice how good-looking they both are. Both look to be my age or a little older. The guy on my left has dark hair that is cut and styled into one of those faux hawks. He’s got a piercing in his right eyebrow, and when he turns his head towards me, I notice a ring in his left lower lip. The spider web tattoo that stretches from the top of his neck down to below his shirt’s neckline is a little creepy, but sexy at the same time. He's got dark gray eyes, and they are staring straight at me. The guy is extremely attractive in a dark and sexy sort of way but looks scary as hell.

His friend on my right looks way more approachable. I roll my eyes at his man bun, but as I get to the table, I see that it actually works for him. This guy is gorgeous! I can tell that he’s a bit taller than his friend, and where Mr. Faux Hawk is dark, Mr. Man Bun is light with his sandy blonde hair, that’s shaved from the middle of his head, all the way down; keeping the top long enough for said bun. His caramel-colored eyes light up when he sees me approach their table.

“Well, hello, beautiful!” Man Bun says as he smiles.

I’m sure I am blushing just a tad bit, “Hi. I’m Aria, and I will be your server. Can I get you guys something to drink?” I look between the two as I set down the water glasses and menus.

“Are you on the menu?” Faux Hawk surprises me with his question. I glance his way, and I think I just wet my panties. Mr. Dark and Sexy just cranked up the heat with his smile.

Smiling, I pull out my order pad, “Sorry, I…” I’m cut off by Man Bun.

“Come on, man. This is a diner. They don’t sell that kind of delicacy here.” The gorgeous guy rakes his eyes down my body.

I don’t know why, but when Mr. Sanders did that to me this morning, it made me want to vomit. Mr. Man Bun just used a cheesy line and checked me out, but all I want to do now is go take a cold shower. Weird. I already turned down one threesome today, but I don’t think I would turn one down if these two are involved.

‘Damn…down girl!’ I lecture myself.

I finally get their drink and food orders and I hurry away to the back. I toss the ticket to Patrick as I zoom past him, “I’m headed to the restroom!” I call over my shoulder.

The restroom door slams shut behind me, and I turn the lock, barricading myself in. With my back against the door, I slide down until I’m sitting on the floor. “Holy hell!” I gasp aloud. I can feel my nether regions tingle just thinking about the two guys. This has never happened before. Sitting on the floor, I pull myself together before I try standing back up. Icy water is what I need, so I walk over and turn the faucet on, splashing the cool water over my cheeks and forehead. Once I feel cooled down enough, I shut the water off and reach over, tearing the paper towels from the dispenser.

I take a deep breath as I look at my reflection in the big oval mirror over the sink, “You got this, Aria. They are only people.” I sigh, “Hot people, but still people. Maybe you should finally loose that cherry of yours, so you don’t get all hot and bothered whenever you see a hot guy.” Giggling at my own actions, I toss the damp paper towels into the garbage, take a deep breath, and head back to the front.

Patrick raises a brow at me as I walk past him, but he doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. Checking on table nine to make sure they are not needing anything, I quickly glance over at the guys. Thankfully, they seem to be in a deep conversation, so they don’t see me looking at them. It isn’t until I’m bringing their orders out to their table that my pulse starts to race once more. I put on a smile as I approach, receiving big smiles back from both men.

“Fettuccine Alfredo for you,” I place the warm plate in front of Man Bun, and then turn to Faux Hawk, “and our famous Club sandwich and house fries for you.” I manage to set both plates down without my hands shaking, “Can I get you gentlemen anything else at the moment?” I glance back and forth between the two, waiting for a response; a smile still plastered to my face.

Man Bun looks me up and down before responding, “Not at the moment.” He winks at me, making me blush before looking over at his friend. All Faux Hawk does is smirk at me, but it feels like he is trying to convey something that I’m just not understanding.

“Okay then, enjoy! I’ll check back in after a bit.” I turn and quickly take my leave.

The guys stay all through the rush hour, but never ask for anything else. I continue refilling their glasses the whole time they are here, and I keep catching them watching me at times when I am helping other customers. Now that I can breathe, I glance back over to their table and see that they are gone. ‘Great, they dined and dashed!’ I think to myself because I never brought them their ticket. I head over to the now empty table to start clearing. When I lift Man Bun’s plate, there is a folded napkin underneath it. Just thinking it is a dirty napkin, I swipe it up. Money falls back to the table, and when I look down, my eyes widen in disbelief. There are three crisp one-hundred-dollar bills staring back at me. My mouth just hangs open. I look at the napkin in my hand to make sure there isn’t anything else, not that I am being greedy, but I don’t want to throw away money if there is more. Unfolding the napkin, I see writing, so I carefully flatten out the napkin so I can read what it says.

'Thank you for the wonderful service you provided.

We look forward to you serving us in the future!'

M & J

My eyes go back and forth between the note and the money. I am completely speechless. Not quite knowing what I’m supposed to do in this situation, I head to the kitchen to talk to my boss. After grilling me about my earlier actions, Patrick finally smiles and tells me to pay their ticket off and pocket the rest as my tip. I’m so grateful to these two strangers. Their tip just made up for the tips I lost at the bar. My eyes begin to sting, but I hold in the tears. I guess there are good people out there after all.

An hour before closing time, a couple of women walk in all dressed up. I grab water and menus and head over to their table. They don’t seem drunk, but they must have been at some kind of function that serves alcohol, because I can smell the sweet scent of wine, a Moscato perhaps. Their clothing is also a little too sophisticated for a night out at a bar. Both are women are too wrapped up in their conversation to notice me standing here, but I don’t want to interrupt them, either. I’m not trying to listen in on their private conversation, but I can’t help catching a few words like, new girls, auction, great night, and lastly, rich men. My curiosity has now been aroused, but all of a sudden, they notice me standing here.

“Just fresh coffee please and keep it coming.” One of the women smiles up at me.

“Same here.” The other woman says, as she looks me up and down with interest.

“Two fresh coffees coming right up.” I smile and leave the two to continue with their conversation.

I have always prided myself in minding my own business, but for some reason, the words I heard come out of the women’s mouth really interest me. It takes a lot for me to keep away and give them their privacy. It is only when it’s fifteen minutes to closing, that I go over and start to wipe down the tables near the one that the women are occupying. Disappointment washes over me as I hear them talking about fashion. Oh well, that’s what I get for trying to be nosey.

I am wiping down the table right beside them when they decide that it’s time to leave. I glance over at them and thank them for stopping in, after I see them hold up cash and then lay it on the table. I catch the one that was looking me up and down when they first came in doing it once more, making me feel just a bit self-conscious, but then she walks over to me and holds up a business card.

“If you are ever in need of extra cash, call me.” She winks and then places the card on the table right in front of me.

“Thank you.” It’s all I can think to say to the woman as confusion sets in.

I watch them as they walk out of the diner. The same woman who gave me the card glances through the window at me once more before they both disappear from sight. Picking up the card, I examine both front and back. The only writing on it is a woman’s name and phone number. ‘Hmm, that’s weird.’ I think to myself and then shrug, sliding the card into the back pocket of my jeans.