For the Love of the Law

Chapter Two | I'm A Sweet Tooth Kind Of Guy

I didn't know why they even called it concealer anymore. Supposedly, it covered up blemishes, right? Wrong. The bags under my eyes were like the size of miniature ponds, the concealer unable to hide the fitful three hours sleep I got when we'd eventually gotten home early this morning.

I scrunched my nose at my reflection in the narrow mirror that ran along the back wall behind the counter, noticing how I looked a little pale and worn out. But that was kind of my look these days, anyway. I sighed as I pulled my blonde hair into a messy ponytail and got to work polishing the counter, waiting for the first group of customers to enter the diner. It was just past nine AM, and the morning crew would be rocking in soon, filling the booths and leaving tips that varied between a few dollars and the occasional ten dollar note.

The tip thing used to kind of annoy me, I felt like I was ripping people off when they left their money for me to have, but after I'd gotten over that, I realised how much I needed the money right now.

It's not like we were poor, my father had been a top lawyer for years after all, but most of that money sort of disappeared about three years ago. At the same time as my mum took off on a big plane to god knows where.

Coincidence? I think not.

"Harlow, honey did you even get some sleep last night?" The main waitress and one of my all time favourite people, Shelly Maguire, said in a concerned parent sort of voice. I turned and sent her what I hoped was a bright smile but Shelly never had brought any of my bullshit, so I'd just learnt to be straight with her and save the hassle of her having to pry it out of me.

"I got a little bit. Sophie and I...we, ah, we had a run in with the police last night." I cringed when Shelly's motherly smile dropped off her face and it was replaced with a look of confusion and worry. "It was nothing, don't panic." I quickly interjected when she looked like she was about to talk.

"One of the girls we used to go to school with took an argument too far and she walked into my fist. No biggie."

At that, Shelly smiled, a piece of her strawberry blonde hair falling into her face slightly as her blue eyes lit up in amusement and her hidden dimples made a full appearance on her cheeks. "That's my girl. How angry was the old lawyer?" She asked, and I grinned, letting her know that my dad hadn't been as angry as I thought he'd be.

"If that had been my father..." Shelly said out loud, then laughed. "He would have locked me in the house for a month."

"Is that why I hear you were such a wild child?" I teased, elbowing her in the side as Shelly moved past me towards the cash register because our first customer of the morning had just walked in. Sending me a playful glare over her shoulder, Shelly turned and started to serve the middle aged man on the other side of the counter.

It was true, Shelly had been a true blue off the rails teenage girl. She was almost ten years older than me and I only knew how she used to be because of the stories Ryan, the owner of the diner, used to tell me. He had gone to school with her and when he'd brought the diner, he had been looking for waitresses when Shelly walked in to the place just after closing time one night, drunk off her face, demanding a mocha latte and a bacon and cheese Panini.

Long story short, he gave her two options. The mocha and Panini, or a job.

Being the stubborn woman Shelly was, she chose the coffee.

Then walked in two weeks later, and she'd never left the place since. I was still hoping her and Ryan would get together, because it was obvious the two harboured feelings for each other, but I wasn't going to force it.

If they were meant to be, then they would be.

As the diner started to fill, I tugged at my black uniform shirt and got to work, taking orders, making coffees, delivering plates of steamy hot food, cleaning off tables, the usual things a waitress was supposed to do. The routine was almost automatic for me now, I could almost tune out to what I was doing, and be thinking of something else entirely while asking if a customer wanted the curly fries or the side salad.