Bloom

The entire story, Bloom, is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual person's, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by Jalyn Lana.

© All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

WARNING:

The following work contains content that may not be suitable for some viewers. Explicit language, vivid sexual descriptions, violence, substance abuse, and other dark elements.

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Giselle "G" Rowe

Tuesday, September 13 | 6:13pm

Heated Prime - Michelin star restaurant

-

Neo-soul instrumentals hum gently, meshing with the clanking of glasses and soft conversation throughout the building. The atmosphere is serene for the guests, but absolutely nerve wrecking for the staff, especially me.

Left foot, right foot. Keep your head up, G. Straighten your posture. Chin up. Now smile! Wider, they're looking at you. Don't spill anything, girl. You're almost there. Be careful, this shit is hot. Whew!

I set down table number four's appetizers with a practiced smile. Of course they ordered the crab spinach dip; it's the best.

"Here you go! I've already put in your entrée orders. Can I get anything else for you?"

"No. We'd just like to be left alone to eat. Thanks." The woman replies curtly.

Her blonde hair is pinned behind her head and her eyes are a cold shade of pale blue. She and her date are dressed in expensive clothing, a silk dress and a crisp suit. Not very different from the other guests here. It's what most people wear to a five star restaurant.

"Ok, ma'am." I don't let my smile fade at her rudeness. I'm willing to put up with the bullshit for a good tip. I walk away from her just as she scoops some of the spinach dip up with a toasted piece of bread and brings it to her companion's mouth. I swing by my other tables to check on them and end up spilling a little vinaigrette on my fingers while removing an empty dish. "Shit."

I discard the messy plate and make my way to the bathroom. Once my hands are washed, I touch up my lip gloss and smooth my hair back. I worked hard to get this bun to lay down super flat, using a gel with maximum hold to keep my edges in place. The lighting in here is beautiful and it really highlights the delicate amount of gold shimmer that I've brushed onto my brown skin. I've been here for hours and I still look good. The black pencil skirt is accentuating my ass, just as I intended. The heels that I chose force me to have better posture, and the white blouse is just a professional touch. It's all perfect.

As soon as I'm back on the floor, I swing by table number one and take their now empty dessert plates, promising to come back with the check in no time. They actually return my kindness with warm smiles and I'm appreciative. Two East Asian business men. Maybe in their forties. Soft spoken and easy to serve.

I take the dirty dishes to the back and give table number two more napkins and ice water before returning to table number one to give the men their bill. I try to seem slightly uninterested in the number that is written down, just accepting it with grace and bidding them goodbye as they put on their jackets. A small smile creeps on my face when I see that they've tipped over thirty percent.

The bartender lets me know that the second order of martinis for table number three are ready and I set them down with ease in front of the four women giggling and obviously gossiping with one another.

They'll be drunk by the end of the night.

I scurry to the back again when I hear the cooks yelling out the orders for table number four. Both of them are surf and turf dishes and they smell amazing. I take a deep breath and carry them over to the guests, remembering to smile and keep my posture straight. I need to seem like I'm having the time of my life, especially around this bitch.

"Steak and lobster tail with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus for you, sir." I set down the older gentleman's plate and he gives me a closed mouth smile. He's got deep brown skin and huge rings on almost all of his fingers.

"It would be nice for you to take our dishes before bombarding us with more food." The blonde woman in the silk red dress rolls her eyes at me. She's pretty. Her skin is fair with no blemishes, making her foundation look smooth, her features are dainty like some type of mythical fairy, but her nasty attitude overshadows it all.

"Why, yes ma'am. I was going to take them as soon as I set everything down, but I can do it the way you'd like it." I respond quickly, grabbing the empty appetizer bowl and replacing it with her entrée.

I walk away before any more words can be exchanged and watch as three guests follow our host, Chance, to a freshly cleaned table number five. Chance is tall with smooth brown skin, high cheek bones, almond shaped eyes, and no facial hair. He looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine. No doubt that his appearance played a role in him getting a job here. His elegant demeanor and natural charm help a lot too. He's a wonderful host.

The three women sit down and Chance bows courteously before walking back to the entrance to tend to the other customers who're waiting in line. Usually, I am a little self conscious when I first approach a table but the familiar hazel eyes that stare back at me make me feel excited.

For the first time tonight, my smile is genuine.

"Cree!" I greet her, unable to hide my happiness. I make sure I'm not too loud though, I want to maintain my professionalism in front of my coworkers.

Cree returns my smile and the diamonds on her teeth dance even in the dimmed, candle lit area. Her hair is freshly braided to the back and her golden brown skin looks moisturized and blemish free.

"Giselle!" She mimics my excitement in a more hushed tone.

Her two companions sit on either side of her and they are wearing tight dresses, high heels, and lots of makeup. Super feminine - the very opposite of Cree. Just how she likes em.'

The one to her right has mahogany toned skin with full lips and a dark bob while the other one has light brown skin with bright red hair that comes down to her waist. Their nails are obnoxiously long and both of them are coated in body glitter.

I give Cree a knowing look before clearing my throat. "Hello, ladies. My name is Giselle and I will be taking care of y'all tonight. I'm going to get started with some water. Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"I want a lemon drop." The woman with the red hair speaks first.

"Make that two, please."

"I'll stick with water. I'm driving." Cree drapes her arms behind both women and I head to the back to put their orders in.

I stay on top of my game as the night goes on. Nothing else spills, I mind my manners even when customers are rude, my hair still looks great, my ass is still sitting nice, and the tips are coming in like they should be well, for the most part.

The interracial couple at table number four finally get up to leave and I happily watch from a distance. They've been my most difficult table of the night. The blonde, now drunk and even more annoying to deal with, stumbles slightly as her man holds out her jacket for her to put her arms through. He towers over her as she puts up a fuss and swats him away, leading to her getting picked up and taken out of the door, giggling loudly. I see the rest of the staff cringing through their smiles.

I guess when you have money, you can afford to be classless. They left me $6 on their $233 bill.

At least it's something.

The hours keep on ticking by and my aching feet remind me that it's almost closing time. I hand my last table of the night their bill with an internal sigh. Payment is processed quickly and before I know it, I'm wishing them a good night. My cheeks hurt from all of the fake laughing that I've had to do but I'm almost to the finish line.

Just fifteen more minutes. I can make it.

It's a weekday so things aren't as hectic as they usually are. The busboys are already wiping tables, mopping floors, and blowing out candles when a group of men walk through the door.

"Table for five, my boy." One of them says to Chance. He's tall with light brown skin and long, neatly parted dreadlocks. Black and red ink covers his neck and hands and his gaze is hard and intimidating.

"Hello, gentlemen. We close in about fifteen minutes so-"

"So y'all are still open then." He interrupts, looking past Chance's head to get a better look into the restaurant. "And I see hella empty tables. Table for five, please."

The man flashes something underneath the podium and the slight amount of irritation that graced Chance's face moments ago disappears. A chill goes down my spine as fear clouds my mind, but he turns around and gives me a reassuring smile.

He's got me out of a few uncomfortable situations while working here. From customers trying to skip out of paying to flirtatious men who just couldn't take no for an answer, so I trust him.

"Well, I guess we can keep the place open a bit longer than normal for you all. Follow me."

Chance leads the men towards my direction and I try my hardest to look unbothered yet friendly enough as all five pairs of eyes sweep over my body. They're all pretty tall and I feel insignificant next to them.

"Relax, girl. There's enough money involved for this to be worth it, especially for you. You're the only waitress left. I'll let the chefs know. Just take their orders as usual. I wouldn't tell you a lie." Chance winks at me and disappears to the back before I can even respond.

I take a deep breath and plaster yet another smile on my aching face. This isn't the first time that we've held the restaurant open for specific people. A rapper and his entourage came in three minutes before closing one time and we made decent money that night. Hopefully tonight yields similar results.

"Hello, my name is Giselle and I'll be taking care of y'all tonight. We'll start with water, bottled or tap?"

"Bottled and let me get a shot of patron too." The one who spoke to Chance at the podium answers first.

"Perfect! I will just have to see your I.D."

He pulls out a thick dark wallet and opens it just enough to reveal his birthday and his first name on his driver's license. Kasey. Born in ninety-seven. He's twenty-five years old.

That's two years older than me.

I shift from one leg to the other as I go down the line to take the rest of their drink orders, still uncomfortable under their gazes. Four of them order alcohol, which means I know a little bit about them too now.

Mack, the one sitting right next to Kasey, is heavyset and tall like he use to play football. He has dark brown skin and a full beard with lots of jewelry covering his neck and wrists, wearing more of it than anyone else at the table. His eyes are kind and don't seem to regard me as judgmentally as the others. He's twenty-six.

The slim one is Dexter. His eyes are red and low, letting me know that he's the one who brought the marijuana scent in here. He's got super white teeth with a small gap between his first two and the color contrasts sharply with his deep brown skin. He's also twenty-six.

Next is Niko. His hair is big and looks freshly picked out and the tattoo above his eyebrow reads "love." His bronze complexion is only a shade lighter than his brown eyes. I read his I.D. quickly, not liking the way he stares at me while he stroke his bare face. Twenty-five.

The fifth man is the only one who does not order any alcohol so I don't know his name or his age. He is the most mysterious of them all.

He has clear, coffee brown skin with golden brown eyes. His lips are full and encased around a shiny, well groomed beard. The waves on his head are prominent and his hairline is sharp. All of his jewelry is gold except for the small diamond studs in both ears. He isn't as flashy as his friend's but it fits him.

He is absolutely gorgeous.

"Okay! I'll be right back with your drinks."

I quickly make my way to the back and head straight into the bathroom. My face is a little more oily than when I checked earlier today but I still look good. I really hope these extra tips are worth all of this anxiety. I wash my hands and dash for the ice cold water that was requested.

We're about forty-five minutes after closing when everyone's entrées arrive and my stomach does butterflies every time I have to sit something in front of mystery man. He has a pretty relaxed demeanor, letting his friends do most of the talking. I get a quick glimpse of his perfect teeth when Mack makes a joke and it stirs something inside of me.

Niko is a different story though.

"Thank you, beautiful." He attempts to gaze into my eyes as I refill his water and I give a polite, closed mouth smile. He is attractive, no doubt. He just tries too hard. It comes off as phony and desperate.

"Anything, else?" I ask, watching them dig into their desserts and an arrays of no's dismiss me again.

"She got a pretty face." Niko comments.

"Fasho." I hear Mack grunt and I know that all of their eyes are on my retreating figure. My legs get weak at the thought of mystery man staring at me. His gaze is almost as intense as Kasey's, just not as unwelcoming.

"She got a somethin' back there too." Niko continues.

"Relax yo self." Someone else speaks up and he sounds slightly irritated. It's him.

I give them another twenty minutes before I collect the empty dishes and hand them their checks. Every single one of them pay in cash and I force myself to look away when they start placing the tips on the table. I don't want to seem desperate. Despite my efforts, I notice that mystery man doesn't place anything down and my heart drops.

I guess handsome men can be cheap as fuck too.

Maybe he thinks that I'm ugly. I could be cliché and say that I'm more than my looks but I knew that my appearance would have an impact on my tips and on how the majority of customers treated me when I applied to work here. It just comes with the territory. It still kind of hurts though.

"We outta here." Kasey gets up and makes his way for the exit. "Preciate ya."

"Have a good night, everyone." I tell them politely, taking a few steps back.

"You too, ma'am." Mack smiles, showcasing his dimples for the umpteenth time tonight.

Niko slides out of his seat next, no longer paying attention to me as he answers his phone. Dexter just gives me a friendly nod.

Mystery man is the last one to leave and I drop my gaze when he rises to his feet. He dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his wallet and pulls out three crisp bills. "Here you go."

My hands brush against his slightly as I take the three fifty dollar bills. I finally lift my head up to meet his golden gaze and the disappointment that I felt earlier is replaced with awe and something else.

"Thank you, sir. Enjoy your night."

His eyes leave my face and travel down my body once more, giving the hair on his chin a stroke.

"Goodnight, Giselle."

He tips his head and follows the rest of the group outside. This time, it's me staring at his retreating figure. He has a strong, athletic build with broad shoulders and a confident stride.

I'll never forget the first time he said my name.