Chapter 8: First day on the shift
Milani scrubbed up the vegetables, glimpsing up at the vacant residence. She was preparing supper when she went outside for fresh air. Strolling out, she halted at the foot of her roses, inhaling in a deep breath. The midnight air smelled dashing, she crouched down fascinated by the fragrance of the honeysuckle with which her lilac's smelt of. The blue midnight sky shined on the white and lavender peddles.
As she glanced up, she spotted a towering figure lounged against the lemon tree beside her flower garden. After a lengthy stare down, the mysterious man step out from the dim light and into the blue moonlight. It was Chris; he was standing in a suit; he wore a button-down shirt with a black-blue tie. alongside with long navy shorts with black church shoes. Her gaze swept over him in passionate admiration as he sauntered towards her. Chris tugged on her palms indicating for Milani to accompany him.
They strolled along the shore side for a while in complete silence until Chris led her to the side of a tall rock. Handing her a pastel blue letter with her name plastered on it. Her palms were sweaty, every inch she drew closer to opening the letter her fingers shook. Somehow she gained courage and ripped open the letter, reading every word. "I love you and always have, will you marry me?, Sincerely, Chris." Milani's body developed a fuzzy feeling as her heart continued to thump excessively rapid. All she could do was stare at that letter, in what felt like forever.
She stared at him, scarcely making out the words as she broke out into a tear "yes, yes a thousand times yes". A cell phone ringing interrupted her from her dream, as she reached for it she bore the bright screen to her squinting face, shooting the caller straight to voicemail. Milani hated mornings, all her life she resented the morning bright light. Realization struck her like a ton of bricks when she grasped what took place a few minutes ago. Wait did I dream of something like that? She thought while caressing her belly. A blush creeped onto her face turning her red from the roots of her hair, to her ears, into her ample cleavage. How could she have let this take place again? For the past months she'd been fantasizing daydreams of love encounters with Chris. A moan escaped her delicate lips as if her brain desired time to process what had just taken place.
Milani tossed her phone on the nightstand snoozing the now beeping alarm clock. The alarm clocks beside her bed indicated 6:00 am in broad bright white numbers. Another day. Rise and shine! Yeah, right. Milani thought as she rubbed her eyes. Today was the first day she would start her new role as a chef In a restaurant that Chris worked at. A month ago he recommended her to his supervisor and for that Milani was grateful.
She squirmed and stretched within her cosy, warm, the haven that is her bed. Milani's eyes took in every ray of light and without a doubt she recognized she'd overslept her original waking time. Struggling to get up she headed to the bathroom to do her routine.
Stripping down, she tiptoed into the tub, turning the water on hot, letting it beat over her head in steamy rivulets. Closing her eyes to the water as the warmth penetrates into her delicate skin, for what seemed like hours were just minutes as the water dripped down her hair. The drops of water made their path down her body reaching her now round belly. She massaged her skin, studying every inch of my large belly.
After showering, she wrapped a towel over her body heading towards her wardrobe. Picking out an outfit for the day was the entertaining part for her. It's frustrating, occasionally, because what on earth would she be able to wear? Especially now that she was pregnant and her dresses didn't fit. The weather, her events, who she might encounter; they considered those when choosing an outfit.
Milani tapped her chin as she studied hard on what to wear. Today called for loose but still tight black tights, the kind that cling to the eye-catching curve of her ass. Molding onto her legs and ending wrapped around the ankles, tucked into an olive green tee shirt with a pair of checkered vans. Milani shifted to the full-length mirror studying her masterpiece, head cocked, slight smirk, She'd concluded that she was satisfied.
Milani took the short walk down her driveway taking in a whiff of fresh air. She could hear the beautiful sense of calmness from the chirping birds as she strolled to her car. The neighbors waved to her as if she was a celebrity greeting fans. While she reached her car, it reminded her of the first day she bought it; It was the week after they finalized their divorce.
After opening the doors and then sitting in the seats that felt like a warm hug. She started the engine, listening to its roar as if it were a lion yawning after a lengthy nap. Arriving at her destination she stepped out of the car, arming the alarm for security with a "beep".
As a child, Milani was always fond of dining out. Her family would dine at a restaurant, diner, or buffet at least once a month, usually more than once because their little daughter always pleaded to go. Rosette's was that lucky restaurant— Milani cherished the place, and this made her parents love it too. Every single time they would go out, It would always be at Rosetta's no place else. The restaurant always seemed so extraordinary and thrilling to her when she was a child, and surprisingly, the place nevertheless attracts her til this day today. Rosetta's was the reason she'd always wished to become a wonderful chef and maybe one day own her very own restaurant. Grinning at the memories she pulled the doors opening entering the restaurant.
The restaurant was full. Ranging from old to young, black to white, together to alone. She peered around at the busy tables. An elderly couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals, clutching on each other's hand as if indicating to never let go. A group of young women in their mid-twenties collapsing with breathtaking giggles as a woman dining alone nearby looked on and scolded. Businessmen in their black and white suits drinking up the last bit of wine. A family and their teenage children chattering away as they laughed about something. The noise level was comfortable but not private. Soon Milani found her way to the back of the staff room.
"Where are you going?" Someone questioned from behind her. She spun around gripping onto her bag as she felt social anxiety from all the eyes the staff were giving her. His head cocked to the side, his eyes drifting from the to the staff door. He wasn't a male model but hell he should have been. The lustful, mother lode-ginger hair he groomed so to the side had a rippling quality, a sign of his outrageous health. His only fault was that he looked way to good looking for his own good. The perfectly shaped nose he obtained complimented his sharp cheekbones. Handsome in an understatement, his basalt jaw and Spartan shoulders spoke of strength. He possessed a latent, leonine power and walked with purpose and authority. But throughout her checking him out not once did she wish to think about him instead she shook her head only allowing her to think about Chris. Weird right? She pondered.
All Milani could answer was "Im the new waiter." Before the embarrassment withered away. "I'm presuming you need to get into the staff room?" His tone was low-spoken and deep, delivering a shudder throughout her body. "Yes, I do." A small chuckle escaped his lips as Milani gawked at him, fidgeting with my fingers. "I heard about the new waitress coming in." He motioned her towards the door unlocking it. "What's your name?" He asked when they were inside. "Milani but my friends call me Lani." He stared at her for a few seconds and then led her through the doorway. "Pretty name," Milani smiled. "I'm Jax nice to meet you" He held his hand out to her. "Nice to meet you too".
Milani soon discovered that there was a lot more to waiting tables than she had expected prior to her job experience. Milani had assumed you simply took a persons order and brought their food out to them. It had only been seven hours and her feet were killing her. The moment of truth was when she looked up at the ceiling closing her eyes as she prayed for her, her babies and her feet.
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