Wonder of You | Elvis Presley

Chapter 23

March 15th, 1958

IT HAD BEEN LESS THAN THREE MONTHS SINCE HER FIGHT WITH ELVIS, AND THEY HADN'T TALKED SINCE.

She missed hearing his voice, but she refused to be talk to him without hearing an apology from him. An in person one, none of that over-the-phone stuff.

If she was being honest with herself, she missed Elvis. She missed feeling his lips against hers.

  With a sigh, she shook her head and took another drag from her cigarette.

  She was currently standing at the backdoor of the diner she worked at. She was supposed to be on the clock, but she'd convinced her coworker to temporarily step in for her without her boss knowing.

  "Isn't it a little unprofessional to be smoking while on the clock?" 

  Juliet jumped at the sound of the heavy New York accent. She discreetly flicked away her cigarette and turned to the mysterious person, trying to hide the embarrassed blush on her face.

  A man dressed in a nice suit stood in front of her, a slight furrow in between his eyebrows as he stared at her. He had dark brown hair which had been slicked back, not a single hair out of place. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't figure out where she knew him from.

  "I'm not on the clock," that was a lie, she was. But she was usually a very good liar, so she prayed he would believe her. She didn't want it to get back to her boss that she was smoking while she was supposed to be working.

  "You are," said the man with a tone of certainty. "I know you are because you are my waitress."

  A smug look appeared on his face as he watched the realization dawn on her.

  So that's why he looked so familiar... She mentally facepalmed, immediately remembering asking for his order before she decided to sneak a quick smoke break.

  "Plus, you have your name tag on," he added, making her glance down at the name tag that was pinned on her blue dress— which she was required to wear.

  "I'm so sorry, sir!" She rushed out, a blush forming on her cheeks. She avoided his eye contact to maintain at least some of her dignity.

  "S'alright," the man shrugged simply, a smug look still on his face, his New York accent thick— almost as thick as her southern one. "You can continue smoking if you want, I won't tell your boss."

    Juliet pulled a pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of a white apron tied around her waist, sliding a cigarette out. Recently, smoking had been something that she'd started doing to relieve stress.

But Lord knew that if her Mimi found out she was smoking...Juliet wouldn't ever hear the end of it.

  She'd just placed the cigarette in between her lips when she realized that she didn't have a lighter on her. An aggravated huff escaping past her lips as she began patting herself down, hoping that she had one somewhere.

  "Here," she looked up to see that the man had moved closer to her, a lighter in his hands as he offered it to her.

  The Tilden took it from him, muttering a quick, "Thanks."