Class Act: A Coach/Student Romance

Class Act: Chapter 39



asked as I picked up the laden tray for my table. He was right. This time of night on a Friday was always busy, but that meant a good night for tips. I’d already made more in tips tonight than my entire week’s salary. Thank god for a pretty face. It sure came in handy.

“Yeah, have been on my feet all night.” We’d been asked to postpone our breaks until the crowd lessened. Luckily, I had thought of bringing an energy bar.

“But definitely a good night for you, right?” Jimmy asked.

“He’s flirting with the customers,” another waiter said. “Because he looks like that they try to impress him.”

“Don’t be a hater, Cole. If you think it’s just his looks, why aren’t you lining up to get a nose reduction? Maybe you’d get better tips, then.”

I bit back my laughter and poked Jimmy with my elbow. “Don’t provoke him.”

It was best to ignore Cole, who’d been making snide remarks about me since I started working here. I usually ignored him. I’d dealt with people like him too much to know to give him a wide berth.

As I delivered the next meals, I plastered on my signature smile. The couple looked wealthy and could be big tippers. And best of all, they didn’t flirt or touch me.

“Thank you,” the wife—I assumed from her wedding band—smiled at me.

“You’re welcome. Anything else I can get you?”

“Not right now, thanks,” the husband said. “Everything looks great.”

“Then enjoy. If you need anything, just let me know, and I’ll get right on it.”

I pretended not to overhear the wife’s comment about how nice their waiter was. My job might not pay well or require complicated skills, but I was committed to doing it well. The experience wasn’t all bad, and it taught me how to handle different people.

The busser had cleared the table to my right, and a new couple sat there. I ambled over with a smile.

“Hello, welcome to—” I froze, and the words stuck in my throat. My boyfriend’s soon-to-be ex-wife shot me a steely glare. My hands trembled, and I swallowed hard. “Welcome. I’m your waiter for the night. My name’s Emery.”

“I think it’s pronounced home-wrecker.” Teresa smirked. “Cute. My husband never showed much ambition. I can see why he would go for you.”

“Teresa, this the guy you told me about?” the man asked.

“Yes, he’s the one who’s sleeping with my husband.” She spoke so loud several heads turned in our direction, and their curious gazes seemed to pin me in place. The couple I’d just served gaped at me.

Don’t let her get to you.

I kept my smile, even though my heart was pounding.

“Is there anything I can get you for appetizers?”

“Let’s see.” She opened the menu. “What would you recommend?”

“Umm.” It wasn’t the first time a diner asked for recommendations, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what was on the menu.

“You work here, but you don’t even know what’s on the menu?” She shook her head. “You’re just a sloppy guy all around, aren’t you?”

“The baked mussels on the half shell?”

“Have you ever had it before?” Teresa asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? How rude. You know my name, don’t you?”

Oh god, why did this have to happen to me? She didn’t speak softly either, so those at the tables closest to her could hear the exchange.

“I’m sorry. I meant nothing by it. The mussels are a favorite on the menu.”

“We’ll have that, then.”

“And bring us a bottle of wine,” her gentleman friend said. “The—”

Teresa placed her hand over the man’s. “I’d like him to decide on the wine too. Bring us your finest bottle.”

“I’ll get on that right away.”

“Not so fast.” She picked up the flatware and handed them over. “These are filthy. Bring me a new set.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with them.”

“Are you insisting I eat with your dirty cutlery?”

“I’ll get clean ones right away.”

My face burned all the way to the kitchen. Oh god, what a horrible night.

“What the hell was that?” Jimmy rushed up to me. “Why was that customer giving you a hard time?”

I shrugged. “I know her.”

“What’d you do? Sleep with her husband?”

I swallowed hard. Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Holy hell, I was only kidding. Did you actually—”

“I can’t talk right now. Help me pick one of the best bottles of wine. If I don’t get it right, she’s going to throw a fit.”

She would throw a fit either way. When I returned to her table with the wine, stammering what kind it was, and poured the glasses, she accepted it with a thank-you. They seemed to be discussing a case.

Thank god she was too preoccupied to pick on me. I dealt with my other patrons, but they must have heard Teresa’s accusations because they were more reserved.

I had the feeling they wouldn’t give me any tips either.

When the mussels were done, I brought the dish over to Teresa’s table. “Are you ready to place your order for the main course?” I asked.

“Not so fast.” Teresa bit into one of the mussels and spat it out into a napkin. “I thought you said these came highly recommended. They taste horrible. Take them back.”

“But you already ordered them.”

“Based on your recommendation.”

The man—date, colleague, hookup, whatever—sat back, his eyes ping-ponging between us as if he were watching a highly entertaining table tennis match, and said nothing.

“I can take them back to the kitchen, but I’m afraid we still have to charge you for it.”

“How dare you!”

This isn’t worth it.

“Okay, I’ll omit the meal from your bill. Is there anything you’d like instead?”

“What else would you recommend?”

Yeah, I wasn’t falling for this trick again. “I’m not qualified to make that choice, since I don’t know your taste. Maybe your date can suggest something you’d like.”

“Smooth.” The man chuckled. “He’s got you there, Ter. As much as I find this tête-à-tête amusing, I’m starving, and I’d actually like to eat before we leave the restaurant.”

Thank fuck. Teresa seemed to think this was a game instead of her messing with my livelihood. I wouldn’t let her see me crack.

The man took over and ordered for both of them. I hurried back to the kitchen with the discarded mussels and placed the new order.

“That dish is coming out of your wages,” Bruce said.

I didn’t care. I just wanted Teresa and her companion out of here as quickly as possible. To make things worse, they didn’t even let me keep the mussels but gave them to another guest. How was that fair to me?

“If I were you, I’d spit in her food,” Jimmy whispered. “That’ll teach her to mess with you. Eat my saliva, bitch.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Do people really do that?”

“Of course not. It’s just a rumor to get diners to be nice to us. Though that woman would certainly deserve it.”

Oh god, she did. Teresa had me running back and forth as if I were at her beck and call. She needed fresh salt. She needed fresh pepper. Her water goblet was dirty. The steak was too hard. Her portion was too small. Bring the check. Oh no, they forgot to order dessert. Then they took their sweet time in doing so.

By the time I brought their check—with dessert and coffee—I was near tears, but I handed her the little black book with the brightest smile I could muster. She yanked it out of my hand, bumping into the coffee cup. The cup wobbled, and I grabbed for it. While I saved the cup, half of its content spilled on her cream dress.

“You imbecile!” she snapped. “You did that on purpose.”

I froze. “It was an accident.”

“You’ve been antagonizing me all night.” She burst into hysterical tears. Dumbfounded, I stared at her. What the hell was happening?

“What’s going on here?” Bruce asked. This evening couldn’t get any worse.

“He spilled the coffee on me purposefully.” Teresa wiped at her eyes with the handkerchief her date handed her.

Bruce looked pointedly at the coffee cup I still held in my hand. I dropped the cup on instinct. It bounced on the table and overturned, right into Teresa’s lap.

“See! I told you he did it on purpose.”

“Emery,” Bruce said, his voice hard. “What’s the matter with you?”

“It was an accident,” I said softly. Fatigue rolled over me. My feet ached from all the running back and forth, and my head spun from her unfair treatment. “She has a grudge against me and has been on my back all night.”

“A grudge against you? Why would I? You’re so far beneath me, why would I waste my time on you?”

“It’s because I—”

I swallowed the words. How could I confirm right here that I’d slept with her husband? No matter what happened, I’d turn out to be the bad guy.

“Emery, go pack your stuff. You’re fired.”

I sucked in a painful breath. Was she happy? She’d gotten me fired from my job. Did it satisfy her now she had her revenge for me sleeping with Abe?

I did as instructed and grabbed my bag.

“Bruce, it’s unfair,” Jimmy argued on my behalf. “That lady was picking on him all night.”

“Don’t you have customers to serve, or do you want to pack too?” Bruce snapped at him.

I didn’t want to cause problems between them. Jimmy liked Bruce, but he looked as if he wanted to argue. To not be accused of favoritism, Bruce would have to carry out his threat.

“It’s fine, Jimmy. Thanks for being a friend.”

“I have your number. I’ll call you,” Jimmy promised, then stalked out of the locker room.

“Look, Emery, I don’t have a choice,” Bruce said. “It was fire you or offend that woman. In case you don’t know who she is, she’s a vicious lawyer with some very influential people as friends. We can’t have her reviewing this restaurant badly.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

At least I was still going home to the man she wanted. That thought soothed me a little.

Until I walked out of the restaurant and she was waiting for me. I tried to walk by her, but she gripped my arm.

“You’re not going to say anything to me?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I forgot. You’re more about action, aren’t you? Like jumping into bed with my husband right under our roof and after we took you in and gave you a place to stay. How could you?”

“Don’t think I’m ungrateful for what you did. I’m not. This isn’t something I wanted to happen. I fell in love with him.”

She released me. “You should have accepted my offer and found yourself a wealthy man. How long do you think you’ll be satisfied with the minimum Abe can give you?”

“Do you understand what loving someone means? Because if you did, you wouldn’t have to ask me that.”

I ran to my car. Mandy had told me to be careful. I should have listened. Teresa and I were bound to be enemies because of my relationship with Abe. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to run into her again. Not soon, at least. I could only deal with her in bite sizes.

And now I had to find another job.

When I got home, I parked my car beside Abe’s, then let myself into the house. I followed the sound of the TV into the living room, where Abe was sprawled on the couch, watching a football game.

“Hey.” He looked up. “You’re home early.”

Tears burned my eyes, but I desperately tried to keep them at bay.

“Emery, what’s wrong, baby?” He vaulted off the couch and came over to me. I found my comfort place, burrowed into his chest with his arms around me.

I sniffled. “I got fired from my job.”

“What happened?”

“I had a difficult customer who threw a fuss, and they fired me.”

“That’s messed up. What can I do?”

Promise me you’ll protect me from your wife.

“Nothing.”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something more comfortable.”

“But your game.”

“You’re more important. Let me take care of you, Emmy, and you can tell me what happened.”

Yeah, no way would I tell Abe his future ex-wife had bullied me. It was better for him to think it was just a random customer. The last thing I needed was to stir things up and have him confront Teresa to protect me.

Abe could never learn the truth about what had happened tonight.


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