The hostess can’t be older than sixteen or seventeen. I’m puzzled with how much she would have to tell me but when a guy who looks like he’s about her same age comes over to ask me what I would like to eat, I’m convinced this is just a good place for kids to work.

I look at the menu and all I see is fish. Didn’t Mandy say they had a lot of other stuff? Maybe it’s been a minute since she’s been here. I scour the menu and find a Teddy Burger. I ask my waiter for the burger to be well-done, minus the barbeque sauce with a side of fries, even though coleslaw sounds amazing. And as much as I want a Diet Coke, I order a water. I don’t know the last time I actually drank water.

The view is beautiful from up here. The sun is starting to set on the horizon, casting glimmers of orange and pink onto the water. I’m not so sure if it’s quieter up here or if the waves from the water muffle the sound of chatter, but I’m definitely liking it better than inside. I look at the people around me and see people of all ages. Off in the far corner of the patio is the family with a million kids. Okay, there’s like six or seven, but from someone who doesn’t have any children, that’s a million. The mom and dad look frazzled as though the kids are sucking the life out of them. That’s probably why they’re here for dinner, let someone else feed them. Although I would hate to see their bill. This isn’t exactly the cheapest place I’ve ever been.

When my meal comes, I’m lost in the waves of the water, watching them ebb and flow, wondering what the hostess has to tell me. And why did she look like she saw a ghost?

“Here’s your food, ma’am. The Teddy burger, well-done, no barbeque sauce and fries. Is there anything else I can get for you?” The young man with dark curly hair and sun kissed face, sets my plate down in front of me. The burger looks so good with red onions peeking out from under a golden bun. The fries are a crispy gold hue with hint of red seasoning that remind me of some of the best fries I have ever had at Checkers.

“I think this will be just fine. Thank you.”

He nods and heads off to the next table he’s assigned to work tonight as I pick up the delicious looking burger. I take my first bite and somehow the burger is still juicy despite being well-done. That’s hard to do. The fries rival the ones from Checkers too. Just as I’m halfway through my burger and fries, I see the hostess seating a man across the patio deck from me. He has greasy black hair tied back in a bun at the base of his neck and he’s looking all over the patio like he’s a wanted man. I take another bite and the hostess looks over at me, making eye contact. She tilts her head in the man’s direction and then nods. She turns back to him, hands him a menu and then walks away, making sure to catch my gaze before heading downstairs.

Is that Blake?

I wish I was sitting closer to him so I could see better but he’s sitting by the giant family. The kids keep moving in my view of him, so I don’t dare walk over there and ask if it’s him. Plus, I’d like to know what the hostess has to say. And I only have the picture of Blake and Kendra’s description to find him. I feel like I’m flying blind.

I keep eating my dinner and try to nonchalantly look at him, looking for his thin lips and straight nose. It’s too far to see if his eyes are grey, plus, do his eyes change color? It seems like people who have grey eyes talk about how their eyes change color.

The waiter I have goes over to the man. The kids from the family are standing up from their seats and wandering around. A couple of them look like their trying to play a tamed down version of tag as the mom rests her face in her hands. Dad is checking out the waitress that’s helping another table and not paying any attention to the kids or his wife. What a tool.

After a few minutes, the waiter steps around the kids, and the man comes into view for a few seconds. It might be him. I finish the last few bites of my meal and watch the water, trying to make it seem like I haven’t been staring at the guy across the patio. Not that he made much eye contact with me anyway. His eyes keep moving around, like he’s waiting for someone to catch him, and he has to make a run for it.

Finally, the multitude of kids all get up, mom grabs her purse from the back of the chair, dad scratches his protruding belly and stretches his arms up over his head. The kids race each other back to the stairs that go down inside the restaurant, yipping and hollering as they go. Mom gave up and dad doesn’t care. Those kids are going to be a mess when they get older.

When the last of the kids disappear through the doorway and down the stairs, the silence is a welcome sound to all of our ears, and I can hear a few sighs come from the other patrons. Not from the man with the greasy man bun. He’s fidgeting even more now. When the waiter brings out his food, he acts like he’s trying to hide while he eats. I get being an introvert, but his actions are…squirrely.

I raise my hand and wave for the waiter to come over to me. When he gets next to me, I can see that the family with all the kids has worn on him too. He’s covered in ketchup and random flings of food. He bends over and tilts his head as if to show he’s listening.

“Hi, I’m ready for my check.” He nods and stands back up, taking a step backward before I catch his arm. “Oh, but, can I ask a question?” He nods again and leans down to me. “That man over there,” I hold my one hand up like I’m telling him a secret and use the other hand to point toward the man, “is that Blake Randolf?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The waiter stands up, looks over at the man with the greasy bun and his sun kissed skin loses all of its color. “I’ll get your check.”

“But, wait, what about…” The waiter disappears down the steps inside the restaurant. What is going on? Why won’t he tell me if that’s Blake? I reach around and grab my purse off the back of the chair and sling it over my shoulder as I stand up. If I hadn’t come here, I would’ve walked right up to that man and asked if he was Blake but now, I’m not so sure if I should do that.

I follow the waiter down the stairs and into the dark restaurant. It takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust from the sunset beach to the dark inside. Once I reach the bottom of the stairs, the bar on the left side is bustling with regulars sitting on stools, and waitresses buzzing from table to table. I find my waiter behind the bar counter at a computer.

“Hey, I can just pay here, right?”

He looks up at me and his eyes dart back to the computer. He acts like he’s hiding something, and I want to know what it is. “Yep, right, yeah, you can pay here. Here’s your bill.” He slides a paper receipt across the bar at me and I lay my credit card on top and slide it back. He barely looks at me when he picks it up to run the card.

“Was that Blake up there?”

The waiter looks around and then leans in, “Ssssh! If others heard he was here,” he whispers as he looks down the bar at the gruff looking men sitting in a row, “well it would be bad.

I lean in to match his intensity. “So, it is him!”

“Shandra! C’mere a sec would ya?” The waiter waves at the hostess at the front door and then leans back to me. “Shandra will be able to help you. I’ve got to get back to work. Here’s your card and your receipt. Thanks for coming to The Main Grill.” He flips up the counter, walks through and then flips the counter back down behind him before running back up the stairs to the patio.

The hostess walks in my direction and when I start walking toward her, she motions for me to follow her. I follow her to the front door of the restaurant where I came in. Shandra pushes open the door and holds it open for me. Once I step outside, Shandra lets it fall shut, cutting the commotion from my ears which is a welcome relief.

“Hi, Shandra?”

“Hi, yeah, I’m Shandra. I’m guessing you saw Blake?” A quick breeze blows a few tendrils of hair out of her messy bun that she fights to get back into place.

“Um, I think so? What’s the deal? Why are you both so scared to talk about him?”

Shandra glances at her watch and then looks back inside the restaurant. “I have five more minutes. Go across the street and get us a booth in the back. Tell Carl that you want a spot away from everyone.”

Before I can say anything, Shandra walks back into the restaurant and the door closes behind her. This is so weird. I really hope that hunting other authors isn’t this weird. The strap on my purse is slipping so I quickly put it back on my shoulder, look to see if the traffic is clear and cross the street. As soon as I get to the Black Sheep’s door, I can smell the beer.

A bell rings when I open the door and a group of waitresses holler “Thanks!” as three guys walk past me. The blond bomb-shell bartender behind the bar gives me a quick smile and says that someone will be right with me. I just nod and pick up a paper menu setting near the door. This place has way better food options for someone who doesn’t like fish! And from the looks of it, this is an Irish pub with food. Good food! Maybe Mandy got mixed up when she was telling me which restaurants were good.

A dainty blonde waitress pops out of nowhere and stands in front of me. “Aw, I’m sorry miss, the kitchen is closed now. But I can get ya something to drink.”

I quickly fold the paper menu and stuff it in my purse. “Oh, I actually just ate across the street, but I think I should’ve come here. Your menu looks more like something I would like better. I’ll try dinner here tomorrow. But I am meeting a friend here tonight. She said to tell Carl to find us a table away from everyone else?”

“I got ya. By the way, I’m Carl.” She stretches out her hand to shake mine and then turns to weave us through the tables.

Once we find a table in the back corner, it’s so quiet back here I could hear a pin drop. I slide into the bench seat and then look up at her. “Carl? I’m sorry. You don’t look like a Carl.”

The petite waitress giggles and then sets a drink menu in front of me. “My full name is Carlita and I’m guessing that you’re meeting Shandra here.”

“H-how did you know?”

“Shandra likes to wind down over here after work.”

“W-wind down? But she’s too young to be served! Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not my place to…”

Carl starts laughing. “Shandra is twenty-four. She does look young though, doesn’t she?”

“Everyone looks young here,” I mumble as Carl walks away.

I glance at the drink menu and find some drinks that sound good, but I decide that I’m just going to stick with my Diet Coke and rum. It’s safe. Just as I set the drink menu aside, Shandra comes into view. She gives a side hug to Carl and then heads back to me.

“Good! I knew Carl would set ya up.”

“Yeah, but Carl is a girl.”

“Yeah, so?” Shandra slides into the bench across from me and sets her purse in the corner next to the dark mahogany wall. I don’t know what to say to that, so I just stay quiet. “What’ll you have?”

I tuck my hands under my thighs and shiver as the cold air from the vent above me blows down my back. “I’ll have a Diet Coke and rum, but you aren’t the waitress here, or are you?”

“Sometimes I work here too. Hang on.” Shandra gets up, walks over to Carl, and then makes her way back over to me. Once she slides back into her side of the table, she rests her arms on the table in front of her. “To answer your question, yes, that was Blake. To answer your next question, no, you shouldn’t just go up to him. To answer the impending question that eventually comes up, no, you can’t go to the cops either.”