Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
No one else was allowed to deal with Damion. No matter what section he was in, he always demanded she serve him. Vicki didn’t know why he did this, but Tank, the owner, told her that whatever Damion wanted, he got.
Martha, another of the waitresses, glared, but wouldn’t serve him. This was because when Damion came in, Martha refused to listen to Tank’s advice, and attempted to serve Damion. That had ended in disaster, and Martha in tears.
Damion was a particular customer. He liked his coffee done a certain way, and his food presented in a particular way. Vicki was more than happy to serve him. He was friendly to her, which she also knew was weird, because he was not a friendly man.
She had no doubt the man had killed someone since the last time she had seen him, but that no longer came as a shock to her in Old County. This is why civilians couldn’t leave either. They had seen too much. Leaving put you at risk.
She didn’t know if anyone had ever made it out alive. Even though she had spent most of her time craving a life away from her mother and Old County, she knew it was never going to happen. This was where she was stuck, so she made the most of it.
“Good morning,” she said, putting on a smile. “What can I get you today?”
Damion looked up and his gaze moved to her hair. This was also not a shock to everyone.
“What’s with the eighties hair?” Damion asked.
Vicki touched her side ponytail and smiled. “Betsy promised me today that my hair would help me find my Prince Charming.”
Her five-year-old sister Betsy had won the hearts of most people in town. She was a sweet girl with a soft smile, and she never had a bad word to say to anyone. Even the families, or potential gangs, liked Betsy. She seemed to be friends with all the leaders, or heads of the families. When she was out selling lemonade to raise money for a charity, everyone stopped by. Betsy told everyone she wanted to be a hairdresser and work in a salon. Everyone thought it was cute.
Vicki didn’t know how her sister had gotten into the hearts of most residents of Old County. She was loved, and for Vicki, that was a blessing, seeing as the little girl had a serious case of wanderlust. She was always wandering out and about. Their mother was not a good parent. It was up to Vicki to take care of her, along with her other siblings.
Betsy had done her hair today, and pulled it into a side ponytail, with the cutest little scrunchy that had a bunch of sharks on it. So cute.
“She did, did she?”
“Yep, and seeing as a five-year-old knows everything, who am I to complain?” she asked.
Damion laughed. “Now that is cute.”
She offered him a smile. “Do you want the usual?”
“Where is Betsy right now?” Damion asked.
This was unusual. He rarely took time to make small conversation.
“She’s at school. Well, I am hoping that is where she is. Even the school can’t seem to get her to stay within school grounds.” She clicked her tongue and hoped that Betsy stayed in school. There hadn’t been a call to the diner yet, so that was a plus.
Damion smiled, and it seemed to transform his whole face. Vicki couldn’t remember if she had ever witnessed him smile or even look happy.
“So, what can I get you?” Vicki asked.
“Make my coffee the usual, and tell Tank I want the breakfast without any shit on it.”
Vicki smiled.
“And while you’re at it, tell him I want your company as well.”
This made her look up at him across her notepad, not sure she had heard him right. “Pardon?”
“You heard me, and tell Tank if he has an issue with it, to come and see me.”
Vicki had no choice but to do as she was told, so she made her way into the kitchen where Tank was flipping sausage. He was a large man, covered in tattoos, and he didn’t take shit from anyone. He also loved to make good food. She gave him the message and Tank waved his fingers at her to go.
“Are you sure? I mean, it is the breakfast shift.”
“Trust me, Damion wants your company, he gets your company, and don’t go asking too many questions. Any of the girls or customers got an issue, tell them to talk to Damion.”
And that was it.
After fixing Damion’s coffee, Vicki made her way over to his table, then took a seat.
“Did you make coffee for yourself?” he asked.
“Uh, no.”
“Then go make yourself some coffee, and tell Tank to get you a breakfast ready as well—my treat—and tell Tank he gets what he wants.”
She quickly did this, and Tank’s glare morphed into that of a smile. She had no idea what Tank wanted, but either way, it had made him one happy man.