(When Life Gives you Lemons- Chapter 1)
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"We got another turkey on rye!" I yelled, my throat already hurting from the constant overuse, thanks to the yelling I had to do all day.
Working in the diner had proven to be—very difficult. But it was humbling too. As a child, I was always told, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
And when life takes away your lemons...make what you can.
That's what happened to me, three years ago. My life was great then; I was a sophomore in college, with an amazing boyfriend—and a great group of friends.
Everything was absolutely perfect.
Then after college, my "boyfriend," and I tried the whole adulting thing...like getting an apartment together, cooking each other dinner, and looking at buying houses together—hell at one point I was convinced marriage was on the to do list.
It didn't end too well...obviously, and when I found him in bed with one of my best friends—that ended two relationships in less then five minutes.
He was the one who owned the apartment, the car, every thing that we had once shared, and he was the only one with the means to purchase these things as well. My degree was practically useless in a normal field—so, all I managed to find was...okay...paying cooking jobs.
Eventually, I landed a job here at Bob's Diner; my boss—Bob—a seventy two year old man who refused to retire, paid me enough to stay afloat. Although sometimes, it felt like I was drowning, with student loans and bills...I almost never had extra money.
But I was making it—on my own. Making something out of life when it felt like there was nothing to be done. I knew for a fact I didn't want to go back to my parents in Kansas, with my tail tucked between my legs. That small town wouldn't do anything but slow me down. Besides, I wasn't weak or a victim—and I wouldn't ever give up.
"Hey sweet cheeks."
I rolled my eyes with my head turned so he wouldn't notice, at the creepy customer with jet black hair, pimples, and a greasy looking salt n pepper beard. He was smirking at me, revealing crooked and stained yellow teeth. I tried my hardest not to cringe, I just set his food down and smiled.
"Was there something I could get you...sir?" I asked as politely as I could muster.
He licked his dry, crusty lips, then looked me up and down—now revealing a big toothy grin. My body turned stiff and rigid, and I felt naked even though I was fully covered in my long sleeve white tee and jeans.
"Why don't you turn around and get me some extra ketchup...please doll face."
"Of course, right away."
I wanted to say no—but honestly he probably would leave the best tip of the night. And who was I to reject money? He could be a creep as long as he wanted, as long as he kept his filthy, creepy paws to himself.
"Hey, is that guy bothering you?" Bob asked, while he placed a fresh thing of fries into the hot oil.
"It's nothing I can't handle." I replied, grabbing the ketchup.
"Okay—well just let me know."
"Alright I will, thanks."
I loved Bob, he was old fashioned—and never tolerated disrespect directed to his female workers (or male ones for that matter), but honestly what could he really do in his old age? If he tried to throw a punch, he could throw his own back out.
Plus it wasn't his job to defend me—I'm not his girlfriend.
I hurriedly made my way back to the table, trying to maintain some sort of professional composure; but every second the mans eyes traveled up and down my body made me more and more uncomfortable.
"Will that be all sir?"
Stay professional. Stay cool. He can't do anything to you. I tried telling myself, but the more he smiled at me—I just knew this was going to take a turn for the worse.
"Actually—" he said, glancing around the practically empty diner.
Once he saw there was basically no one in sight, and no one paying attention to him, he raised his hand. I watched in horror as he reached for my breast—what is this the 1950's? I was ready to scream; but my body couldn't even move for some reason!
Then instead I heard the man scream.
"What the hell are you doing man?!" The creepy customer cried.
There was suddenly a tall man who seemed very familiar; he was standing in the middle of the creepy old man and me. Apparently the creep hadn't checked around well enough, because this man intercepted him pretty quickly.
The man landed a firm punch to the creepy guys face. The guy screamed bloody murder, which caused Bob to run out from the kitchen; I was just surprised he hadn't come out sooner.
"What the hell is going on here?" Bob yelled.
"This pervert was seconds away from touching your waitresses body—unwanted." The mystery man said, he was still staring down at the creepy old man, with his back turned to me.
"Hey she wanted it!" He said, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Been giving me fuck me eyes this whole meal. Probably just wants a good tip—but she's going to have to work for it."
With that, the old man earned himself another punch to the face, this time it was right in his eye. He held his eye in shock, as if he couldn't believe he was being attacked in a restaurant, full of witnesses. I glanced around—
okay maybe like two other witnesses.
"Watch your mouth, you mother fucker!" The mystery guy said.
"And get the hell out of my restaurant!" Bob screamed, about to have his own tantrum.
"You're crazy if you think I'm paying for this!"
The man said, then dashed away, leaving an untouched plate of food. The asshole didn't even need ketchup! I glanced at an unopened ketchup packet.
"Goodness, Carla are you okay?" Bob asked.
"Yeah..." I was still slightly in shock, but I wouldn't show it. "I'm fine. Oh yeah—thank you." I said, touching the mystery man's shoulder.
"It's no problem Carls." He said.
Carls? There was only one person who ever called me that. Slowly, he turned to face me, and I was absolutely blown away. There he was after three years just staring at me, like a day hadn't passed. His sparkling blue eyes, and shiny blonde hair still looked the same.
The only thing that really changed about him was the expensive clothing (that watch had to be at least 3,000 dollars) and manly beard.
"Jeremy?" I asked. "What...what are you doing here?"
Bob scratched them top of his balding head, then looked back and forth between the two of us.
"You two know each other?" He asked.
I could only nod, Jeremy and I held the most intense eye contact, it was like nothing could break it.
"Carla, why don't you go ahead and take your fifteen? It's way overdue anyway."
"Uhh—okay."
Bob only grunted a response, then shuffled back to the kitchen—grabbing the plate of uneaten food first. Meanwhile, I just stared at Jeremy. I mean what was he doing here? Out of all the places in New York? He wound up here..? It was shocking to say the least.
"Jeremy?" I asked, then he began blinking rapidly.
"Oh—I'm sorry. Zoned out for a second. But Carla...hi! You look...good." He said, giving me a once over.
Before with the last mans eyes traveling up and down my body it made me feel icky and violated—but with him checking me out, it caused a whole other surge of emotions to swell in my body.
"Thank you...uh—you don't look so bad yourself. But what the hell are you doing here? In my diner...?"
"Do you want to sit and talk?" He asked.
I simply nodded my head, then we relocated to a private corner in the restaurant. This booth was by far the most peaceful. I came to this booth every time I needed a quiet break, or a nice place to read.
"So?" I continued.
"It's actually a crazy story—my friend had this really good sandwich, and I wanted to try it. I asked him where he got it from and he told me uh...here—" he said, gesturing around the restaurant with his hands. "So then, I wound up driving across town to try the sandwich from here...all to find you about to get...well you know..."
"I wouldn't say crazy...but that is a weird coincidence." I replied, stifling a laugh.
"Yeah, but how are you? It's been so damn long—I haven't talked to you in...too long." He practically whispered the last part—then looked away.
"I've been okay. Doing what I can to get by. But what about you?" I asked, gripping his wrist. "Look at this watch! You didn't wear stuff like this in college."
He had a full blown smile on his face, showing off those perfect teeth and those crinkled eyes I used to love so much. With all my damn heart.
"I also didn't own a multi-million company in college either."
My eyes widened in shock. Multi-million? Was he kidding? How could he manage to increase his net worth by that much in a manner of three years? He had to be joking.
"You're kidding right?" I asked.
"Nope. You remember how good I was with tech?"
I did remember that actually. I could always remember his head bent down in his computer, messing with some new code or developing some app. Hell, he used to design websites too.
"Yeah." I said, nodding my head.
"Well, I decided to get serious about it. After you left—" he swallowed, seeming somewhat uncomfortable now. "I decided to just start up my own company. I had an even bigger company buy me out—that's when I saw my first few million. After that, I kept investing and expanding...and here I am now."
"Wow...that's actually amazing. I'm really happy that could happen for you. So what does your company do now..?" I continued, still trying to digest this interesting news.
"Well now, we've expanded to creating top of the line cell phones, TVs, tablets, you know the whole nine." He shrugged his shoulders smiling.
"I'm really proud of you Jeremy that's great news."
I was somewhat proud yes, but I couldn't help but to feel a little envious. His life had turned out great, he was probably engaged to a cute bottle blonde—who was also rich, and then he would get married and have some perfect looking babies; and they'd all live happily ever after in some big castle of a house.
I frowned. Would my life ever turn out that perfect? That was doubtful considering what I just had to go through less than twenty minutes ago.
"So what about you? What have you been up to?"
"Uhm. Not much. Once we broke up, I looked for work—which is a lot harder then you think." I chuckled.
"Oh I could imagine. It's tough out here for—what'd you want to be? a chef right?"
I nodded my head. It made me feel somewhat good that he had remembered my most treasured dream. Becoming a big time chef, with a small but expensive and cozy restaurant right here in New York. Normal people would eat at it—then celebrities, then soon I'd open chains around the world; after that, maybe I could become a multi-millionaire myself.
I sighed, but that probably wouldn't happen anytime soon.
"Well it looks like you're on the right path."
"Yeah...I'm trying." I replied.
"Hey Carla! Five more minutes!" Bob called from the back, eyeing me with a fat spatula in his hands.
Even though it was required for me to have breaks now, he didn't like for them to be too long. He thought sitting was for the lazy—and real worker could be on their feet easily for ten to twelve hours.
Guess I'm lazy then.
"Okay!" I called back.
I glanced at Jeremy with wistful eyes. I knew it was probably time to wrap up the conversation, and end this strange and crazy encounter—but a part of me didn't want to. Even though we went through what we went through in the past, I didn't hate him. I actually kind of missed his company.
I wouldn't hate if we became friends again. Besides, the way he was sitting there with such warm eyes and a happy smile—he didn't look like he minded either.
"So, you have any women in your life?" I asked, with a quirked eyebrow.
I tried to sound as nonchalant and airy as possible, but I was actually genuinely curious. I didn't want him to think I was asking because I was a jealous ex though.
"Yeah! My fiancé, she's great. She's a model, absolutely beautiful. She's traveled all across the world, been in magazines—even been in a few music videos with some of the hottest artists. She's great, and she's super sweet too."
I cringed inwardly—so basically he was getting married to superwoman. Not that I needed a confidence boost but, couldn't he have married someone who was...I don't know, not as perfect? It's just weird knowing he can move on from someone like me, to someone as perfect as her.
Was I holding him down? I couldn't help but wonder.
"Oh wow." Was all I could manage to say.
Okay, that was awful! Think of something else, quick!
"She sounds amazing." I added, with the warmest smile I could muster.
"She really is." He said, twisting the silver band that was proudly sitting on his left finger. "But what about you..? I just know you're a heartbreaker."
"Nope, never been much of that. Me and my boyfriend Ben broke up...uh a few months ago—"
He gave me a look of pity, but it was quickly replaced with a look of indifference. He knew how much I hated pity, and it almost made me wish I hadn't said it.
"But it's fine! You know, sometimes people aren't meant to be. I mean, just look at us ya know?"
We shared a forced laugh, while I was mentally kicking myself. I mean look at us? That was the best I could come up with? Goodness why did I have to be such an idiot all the time?!
"Carla!" Bob yelled.
I stood, actually grateful that my break was up. Jeremy stood too, looking somewhat sad that our conversation was over. I would've been sad too, but after the last few uncomfortable moments of conversation I couldn't have been more eager to start my shift back up.
"It was uhm...good seeing you again Jeremy." I said, then started to walk away from him.
Bob was watching me, tapping the watch on his wrist—telling me to get back to work because my time was up. Did he not see that I was already standing? Goodness and there was only like three people in here; who were already eating! I can't help but to respect him though, he's got some crazy work ethic.
"Wait! Carls!" Jeremy said, running up to me.
"What? You wanted that mystery sandwich after all?" I asked, smirking at him.
"What...? Oh! That, no. I don't have time to eat anymore—but I just wanted to invite you to this party. Maybe you can uhm—network and meet some people there."
"A party?" I asked, with wide eyes.
"Yeah, my company hosts it every year. It's like a gala—but not as prestigious. You do still have to dress nicely though. But taking in this lovely getup—" he said, pointing at my work uniform. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
He took out a work card from one of his pockets, then scribbled the address on the back of it. He shoved it in my hands, almost like he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Then he backed away slowly.
"See you there!"
And with that, he was gone just as quickly as he'd come. I stared down at his business card in disbelief. A part of me thought he was just lying about being super rich and successful, but I doubt he'd go this far with his lie. Which meant, he'd definitely have a smoking hot fiancé there too. And I'd be there, with some cheap dress because it's all I could afford looking like chopped liver.
Yeah...no thanks.
It was nice catching up but—I threw the business card in the trash—there was no need to be caught up anymore. Besides, I'd be so out of place in a room full of New York's Elites, eligible bachelors and socialites! All of them drinking champagne and eating caviar like it was normal. I hadn't ever been anywhere near those things, and I didn't want to have my first experience in a room full of strangers.
"Aye! What are ya doing!?" Bob asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"Bob, I was just about to wipe the counters." I said, grabbing the drenched rag from the back, and cleaning supplies.
"No, not that. Why you throwing away that good opportunity?" He asked.
"Wh-what do you mean?" I asked, going back to the front and spraying down the counters.
He rolled his eyes, glaring at me from the small opening in the wall. That way he could see his restaurant while he was cooking too.
"Oh please Carla! I wasn't born yesterday. I got ears. He invited you somewhere, and you ain't gonna go—are ya?" He asked, his big bushy eyebrows frowning deeply. His eyebrows were so bushy I could barely see his eyes sometimes.
"Why would I go? He invited me to some party. I don't belong around all those rich people. Besides—I wouldn't even know what to wear." I said, now wiping down the sprayed spots.
"Oh please, Carla this ain't Cinderella! Forget your pride! Who cares if you show up looking the poorest one there...you are the poorest one there! Your money doesn't matter, what matters is you meeting important people there and making connections."
"Connections?!"
"Yes! Do you know the rich people who will be there? The same people who could invest in your business. I know you love me, and you love working here—"
"Tuh!"
"However—" he said, glaring at me. "I know you want to start your own restaurant and your own business. You ain't never going to do that living the way you're living now. Your problem is you're too comfortable. You need to get out your comfort zone!"
"Have a nice night!" I said to the last retreating guests, grabbing their plates from the table. Then grabbing the hefty twenty dollar tip they left me.
"Bob, I didn't ask for a lecture." I said, placing the dishes in the water filled sink, then going back to lock the front doors.
"Well too bad!" He said, then he started cleaning up too. "You got one. Now get that card out of the trash!"
I rolled my eyes.
"You're impossible." I groaned. Then reached down in the trash, getting the small rectangular paper card that had the party address scribbled on the back.
"Your pride gets you nowhere! Learn that early on, and you'll be much more successful in life."
3287 Words
Hey everyone! Thought I'd go ahead and give you guys a preview of my next story at the end of this story, since this story is getting a lot of attention! Once you're done with this book, please feel free to check it out! It's called:
Belle of the Ball
And it is now complete!
Thanks so much everyone!