I glanced at the clock for the tenth time this hour and sigh.  I still had two hours until closing time. I almost wished we were busy, at least the time would go faster.

“Miss?”

“Be right there.”  I rolled my eyes and marked the page in my book.

“Can I get the check?” the old man in the corner booth asked as I approached him.

“Of course,” I responded, smiling sweetly.

He grinned up at me as I passed him the bill.  I heard the bell tinkle, signaling that someone had just entered the diner.  “You can sit anywhere you like,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” I told Mr. Simons.

I stopped at the counter for a fresh ice water, set of silverware and a menu.  I spied my new customer in the corner booth, his back to me. His head was down.  All I could see of him is spiky black hair and a jean jacket. I placed the water in front of him, he barely acknowledged me. I set a menu and silverware in front of him and just as he was about to look up at me, Mr. Simons approached me.

“Here ya go, honey,” he replied, shoving a twenty into the front pocket of my apron. 

“Thanks,” I replied tersely, trying to hide my irritation.

He winked at me.  Disgusting. “You keep the change, honey.”

When he reached for my shoulder, the boy in the booth jumped up, standing between us.  “Where’s the restroom?” he asked, his expression serious.

I gave him a small grateful smile.  “Right this way, sir.” As I turned and lead him through the restaurant to the small hallway where the bathrooms are, I hoped the old pervert is leaving.   “Goodnight, Mr. Simons,” I called over my shoulder.

When I heard the bell on the front door tinkle, I can finally breathe again.  I shuddered when I thought about him touching me.

“He’s gone.”

I whirled around quickly, nearly colliding with the boy who saved me.  I stared at him for a moment, finally seeing his face for the first time.  He was young...fifteen maybe? His spiky black hair matched his dark eyes. He was thin, lanky even and shorter than me, but I’m tall.

“Thank you,” I whispered.  “Thanks for helping me with...that.”

He nodded, but did not smile.  “Does...that...happen often?”

I shrugged and laughed nervously.  “Welcome to my world. Well I guess I should say the world of every halfway decent looking girl that works with the public.  Can’t say anything if you wanna keep your job, ya know?”

When I dropped my gaze and tried to move past him, he gently touched my arm.  “That sucks. I’m really sorry.”

I walked past him, nodding.  “Well you’re not responsible for the actions of every man I’ve had to deal with.”

When I stood next to his booth, I feltl him come up behind me. 

“No...I meant I’m sorry you think you’re only decent looking,” he clarified as he slid back into the booth and smirked at me.

I rolled my eyes and cocked my head.  “Wow...if that’s a line, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

“Sit down.”

“I’m working,” I huffed, pulling my notepad from my pocket.

“I’m the only one here,” he reminded me.

I sighed, hating that he’s right.  “Fine...but only because my feet hurt.”  I slid back in the booth, my back resting under the window, my legs across the seat and my feet dangling over the edge. 

His smirk turned into a full blown smile now.  Such a smartass. “Do you wanna order something or not?”

He bit his lower lip as he flipped the menu open and thumbed through it.  “Hmmm...let’s see.”

“I don’t have all day.”

He sighed, his stupid smile still there.  He snapped the menu closed and nodded. “Surprise me.”

“You may regret saying that,” I warned as I slid out of the booth.

He grabbed my hand.  “Why do you say that?”

I leaned in close and gave him a smirk of my own.  “Because the cook went home and I will be making your dinner.”

“In that case...make me your best dish,” he murmured, his hand still holding mine.

I looked down at our hands and frowned.  “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

He shook his head confidently.  Then he released my hand, put his hands behind his head and beamed.  “I know I’m cute.”

I groaned loudly as I stalked to the kitchen.  “That massive ego of yours is gonna be the death of you.”

I could hear him laughing as I collected items from the cooler and headed to the grill behind the counter. “You better not poison me,” I heard him utter from right behind me.  I glanced back to see him sitting at the counter, he’s watching me closely.

“You don’t like the booth?”

“The view is better from here.”

I whirled around, spatula in hand, ready to clobber him.  “Back off, asshole.”

“Sorry!” he held his hands up, surrendering.

“I just told you how much it sucks to have men hitting on me while I’m just trying to do my job.  And here you are with your lame ass pick up lines. What the hell?”

He looked shocked...and genuinely sorry.  “My bad,” he muttered as he backed away from me.  “I thought we were just playing around. I don’t actually think you’d ever give me the time of day, Rachel.”

I returned my attention to the grill, not trying to burn his food...although I should.  I guess at this point I’d rather make him some good food rather than prove that I don’t know what I’m doing.  I plated it up, feeling pretty good about how it turned out.

His head is down again when I approached him and I suddenly wondered if I had been too hard on him.  “Here you go,” I announced, placing the food in front of him.

He looked up and smiled at me, a real genuine smile and no trace of the smartass that was here before.  “Enjoy.”

He grabbed my hand again as I walked away.  But when I glared at him, he dropped it quickly.  “Will you eat with me? I really hate eating alone.”

His eyes looked so sad. I glanced over at my sandwich on the counter, the one I had intended to eat in the kitchen alone. I hated eating alone too. “Okay,” I replied shrugging. “Be right back.”

When I came back to the table, he’s checking out his dinner.  “Grilled cheese? That’s your best dish?”

I nodded happily as I take a bite of mine.  “Not just any grilled cheese. I promise you’ve never had anything like this.  It’s garlic butter on Texas Toast and four different kinds of cheese.”

“And the fries?”

“Specially seasoned with garlic parmesan. Dip them in the ranch dressing...you’ll thank me later.”

He laughed.  He’s got a great laugh, warm and inviting, begging you to join in with him.  He took a bite of his sandwich and then the fries, a smile forming as he tastes it.  I smiled back and enjoyed watching him enjoy what I’ve made for him. “Well?”

“Not bad.”

“Ass!” I called out, tossing a fry at his head.

“Watch my hair!” he scolded.

“That hair...makes you look like a total douche,” I barely got that out because I’m laughing so hard.

“Wow,” he scoffed.  “Let’s see how good your hair looks...covered in ranch!”

“No!” I squealed, taking off before he could grab me.  As I stepped behind the counter, I slid, nearly falling.  I felt his hands slip around my waist, pulling me close and keeping me from busting my head on the grill.

“That was close,” he breathed into my ear.

I’m still gasping for air as he turned me to face him.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his hands run up and down my arms.

“Just clumsy, I guess.”  I couldn’t look at him, his eyes were too intense. 

“You scared me,” he declared, pulling me against his chest.

I hugged him back awkwardly, but he didn’t seem to notice.  “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s finish our dinner, which is amazing by the way.”

……..

“You know, it’s not really fair that you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” I said as I cleared his table.

“I only know your first name because I saw your name tag,” he admitted.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he swiped the tub of dishes from my hands and cleared the other tables.

“Helping.”

I watched him, happily clearing tables and wiping them down as he went.  What a weirdo. In no time at all, I had all my closing cleaning done and was ready to lock up, with his help, of course.

“So thanks for…”

“No big deal.  Thanks for dinner...you were great company.”

I jiggled the door handle to the diner one last time and made sure it’s locked up tight.  “I guess I’ll see you around?”

He smiled at me and extended his hand.  “I’m Paul, by the way. Paul Lahote.”

“Paul?”

“I take it you’ve heard of me?” His smirk was back.

“Yeah,” I replied scowling.  “You’re the asshole who’s been bullying my brother.”

.....
A/N: interesting? It sucks? Let me know in the comments!