Smart Mouth Waitress Read Online Free PDF Page B

turkey bacon on the grill.
    Everybody was going about their regular business, but inside, I felt like I was standing still and twirling at the same time. I had a crush on someone, for the first time in years. Not since Scott Weaver had I allowed myself to have flippy-floppy feelings for a guy who wasn't completely unavailable due to being a member of a cute boy band, or a famous actor playing a TV vampire that was pure evil some seasons and the good guy other seasons.
    More customers came in and I sat them in my section, feeling the sensation of Crossword Guy's gaze on me. As I took the next table's order, my consciousness left my body, and I saw myself from the perspective of an outside observer. My mouth got dry from nerves, like I was on stage performing. Crossword Guy could hear what I was saying. He was listening, I just knew it, and assessing me. Analyzing me. Trying to figure me out.
    Dread washed over me as I remembered why I don't like having crushes on non-celebs. I don't like losing control and acting like a loser.
    An hour later, Crossword Guy was still at his table, though the puzzle was surely finished. I thought about withholding coffee refills so he wouldn't stay as long, but instead I found myself smiling like an idiot and refilling his mug every time the level went down by more than an inch.
    He looked up at me, the light speckles in his mottled glasses picking up the same highlights that were in his eyes. He said, “Sheesh, if you keep filling my coffee, I'll never leave and do my studying. Seems like you want to keep me here all day.”
    “Maybe I do, cutie,” I said.
    Yeah, I called him cutie . Right to his face.
    The thing about my smart mouth is I have zero control over it. Some people's words pass through a filter before they talk—you can see it on their faces as they rehearse their sentences quickly before speaking. While they're figuring out what to say, I've already said three things, two of them socially inappropriate. Apparently, when I'm in flirt mode, it's no different.
    To follow up, I giggled, which was quickly echoed by Courtney, who stood nearby, refilling water glasses.
    When I looked up and caught her attention, she crossed her eyes and gave me a stupid look, making fun of me.
    Eventually, I stopped refilling Crossword Guy's coffee and dropped off his bill. Finally, he left.
    I slumped over in relief. I'd been holding my stomach in and maintaining perfect posture, with my shoulders back and everything, for well over an hour. My head felt light whenever I turned around, but that could have been partly due to the lack of heavy dreadlocks.
    Courtney cleared Crossword Guy's table and handed me the tip. “Generous today,” she said, passing me some cash and a colored postcard.
    “He left this?” I asked, but before Courtney answered, I'd flipped the card over and seen his note, in the same blue pen he'd used to solve his crossword puzzle.
    This is my friend's art show. You should drop by. -Marc.
    Crossword Guy asked me out!

Chapter 4
    I examined the card in my hands, the casual maybe-date invite from Crossword Guy, a.k.a. Marc.
    The art on the front was abstract, all swirls and swooshes that looked like something anyone can do, but probably takes years of training to get just right.
    Courtney tugged me down so she could put her chin on my shoulder and read the postcard. “You should go. Tomorrow night? I'll go with you,” Courtney said. “Is there free wine? Do we have to buy anything?”
    “Courtney, you have exactly as much information as I do. How would I know if there's free wine?”
    “Sometimes the wine is by donation, so bring some five dollar bills.”
    “I'm not going! I acted like a total loser serving him breakfast, and I'm on my home turf here.”
    We stood together by the kitchen window and Courtney petted my hair down on both sides of my face. “There, there, puppy. Hey, your makeup is all different. You look pretty. Give me some of that lipstick.”
    “Kiss,