Chapter 1

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Calla Stewart's POV

The bell above the restaurant door let out a jingle as someone entered. The overall quietness of the building interrupted by whatever customer that had just arrived. It was a slow night, but seeing as it was nearly one in the morning this was no surprise to me. Working the night shift usually featured only the quiet chatter of the few customers who were out late, as well as the constant hum of the kitchen appliances. The near silence was only ever interrupted when those who had been drinking wandered in, looking for a midnight snack.

I looked up from the booth I was wiping down. The group that had just been there was mostly intoxicated, leaving their seats with the lingering scent of booze. However, their loudness left with them, allowing the diner to return to its usual calm atmosphere. 

The new customer found his own seat and began to look at the laminated menu left sitting on the table while I finished up with my cleaning. Smoothing down my uniform, a plain, light blue dress with a white apron, I discarded my cleaning supplies and made my way over to him.

He looked up, most likely feeling my presence at the end of the table. His appearance screamed exhaustion, with his tie loosened, his suit wrinkled, and the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow peeking through, he looked like he had just gotten off of work. It was not a surprise when he quickly handed me the menu and grunted, "Coffee, black" before turning away and pulling out his phone. No other words were spoken between us as I fetched his drink and set it on the table.

I had served many people like this through my two years of working the night shift here. The diner was located in the downtown area, resulting in many business people stopping by on the nights that they stayed extra late at work. I was not offended by my current customer's curt manner, I wouldn't be thinking about manners if I was working longer than usual either. 

I wiped counters and organized menus while quietly waiting until he might need a refill. The only other people at the Diner at the moment were the cook and another waitress named Amy. They were both out back having a smoke while I did everything else. Unlike them, I was desperate for this paycheck, so I couldn't risk laziness on the job. Otherwise, I would be risking the little comfort my home offered.

As I finished cleaning up the front counter I glanced over at the businessman, he was still on his phone but his coffee mug was near the edge of the table. Taking my cue, I grabbed the coffee pot and made my way over to his table. With a lackluster smile, I spoke, "Would you like a refill, sir?"

"It's about god damn time," he grumbled without looking up, "I'm the only fucking customer in here and you can't even tell when I need more coffee"

I flinched back as he lifted his head to shoot me a glare. "I-I'm very sorry for the inconvenience sir, I'll be sure to stay on top of it from now on"

I tried to fill his mug quickly and scamper off in shame but I ended up splashing a few drops of the bitter liquid onto his table. "Sorry," I whispered while pulling a rag out of my apron to clean up the mess.

I heard him let out a long, frustrated sigh before he began to speak again. "No wonder you're on the night shift, you can't even complete the simple task of pouring coffee without fucking it up. I'm surprised they even hired you," he said with a sneer.

I quickly looked down and mumbled my apologies once again before speeding off to the back. My hands were shaking and my cheeks were flushed from the embarrassment. My social inadequacy always got the best of me in the end and I felt tears pricking my eyes. I had dealt with customers worse than this guy before but tonight was one of my off nights. The yelling and swearing had a way of doing this to me; rendering me a shaking mess that couldn't concentrate to save her life. Well, more than usual.

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