Finally, I looked up from the table to see that I had less than an hour to get ready and to the diner. I panicked.

I jumped up from the chair and ran back to my room, nearly tripping over my own two feet. I flew face first into the dresser as I reached out to catch myself. I quickly opened every single drawer to the dresser, throwing everything that I owned out onto the floor around me. It was really becoming a bad habit.

“Damn. What do I wear?” I held up my favorite T-shirt shortly before throwing it down next to me. Then I yanked out a pair of faded jeans and my only pair of Converse sneakers.

Forty minutes later I was showered, dressed and standing outside waiting for the taxi. The taxi arrived with fifteen minutes left to spare. I sprinted over to the old taxi sticking my head inside to get a peak. To my surprise, it was the same man as the last two times. I had to admit, that I was kind of still embarrassed by our last encounter.

“The Indy Go," I said, with a smile, hoping that he wouldn't bring up the money situation.

He looked out the window staring at me as he struggled to roll it down. He tilted his head and took a deep breath. “Do you have cash this time, ma'am?"

I nodded my head

He looked me up and down with a look of surprise on his round face and returned the smile. "Get in," he said. “That place has some good fried chicken. Are you going there for a lunch date?” he questioned.

I shook my head and searched through my purse. “No. I am actually starting work there today.” I found the ten-dollar bill, pulling it from out of my purse. “Here you go. Sorry but I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Sure thing. No problem, ma’am. I'm just your guy," he said proudly.

The rest of the cab ride was silent. I was sure that by me hurrying him had made him feel uneasy about starting up a conversation. It was fine, though. I wasn't much for conversation and never really knew what to say.

We pulled up to the diner with only two minutes to spare. I sat up anxiously and looked out the window.  “Thank you.” I jumped out the door, taxi nearly still moving, and ran for the door of the diner.

I stopped dead in my tracks and took a long deep breath before reaching out for the door handle. My hands shook as I whispered words of encouragement. “You can do this. Stay calm," I breathed.

I pulled the door open, eyes wide, to see families gathered around the diner, most of them laughing and playing with each other. Little kids playfully chased each other around while their mothers reached out for them laughing and playing back. I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat.

“Avery. You made it.” Jace suddenly stepped out from behind the counter greeting me with a friendly smile. He looked good, in a plain back tee and dark denim jeans. His smile made it even better. “I’m glad that you woke up in time.” He looked excited to see me. It made me strangely happy.

I nodded my head and turned away from the happy families as I fought to catch my breath. “Yes. I did. I got lucky, really." I forced a smile and looked him in the eye. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” Jace ran his hand through his styled hair and waved his arm out in front of him. "Let me show you around."

A short man in about his mid-fifties suddenly stepped out from behind the counter reaching for my open hand. It startled me. His white slicked hair glistened in the lighting as he chuckled and looked me up and down in wonder. Why damn! I'm Winston, the cook. I make all of the great food in this diner." He grinned and looked at Jace, before looking back at me. “You must be, Avery, the pretty new waitress that Jace told me about.” He elbowed Jace in the side and raised an eyebrow.

Jace smirked and lightly squeezed Winston's shoulder. "The word I used was beautiful, Winston." He smiled playfully and reached for my hand. He didn't looked embarrassed one bit, having Winston call him out like that. “Come on.”

My heart sped up at the sound of the word beautiful. He had said it once and even then, I couldn't believe it. I pulled my hand from out of his tight grip and nervously bit my lip. He touched excessively and it bothered me. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Jace looked down at my hand and smiled. “This here is the kitchen.” I followed him around the corner and into a tiny kitchen. It was complete with two stoves, a large deep fryer, two freezers and a fridge.

He quickly pointed out the dressings, desserts, salad condiments and breads before guiding me over to the server station. The server station was a tiny area with a computer, napkins, silverware settings and a place to put your belongings.

It was a lot different from the club I had grown used to going to. There were no half-naked girls, fighting for the best outfit or snatching up my makeup, tainting it with their filthy lips.

“Jace,” I paused, trying to find a way to thank him. “Thanks again for…this.”

Jace smiled, placing his hand on my lower back and giving me a light shove toward the computer. “This is where you will place your orders. The orders will then go back to the kitchen and Winston will prepare your food.”

He stepped away from the computer and pointed over to the heated counter right outside the kitchen. That sucker was so hot that I could feel the heat radiating off it. Either that or it was just Jace. Either way, I started to sweat. "That there is where Winston will leave the food when it's ready."

I looked around, confused as to how I was going to manage to pull everything off and make it through the day. I waved my arms in front of me to cool off. It didn't help. “I don’t know-“

"Don't worry.” Jace cut in. He smiled and looked me in the eye. He always looked me in the eye, making me nervous. In some ways, I believed that he meant to.  “I'm sure that it will be a lot to take in, but Stacy will be here to help you."

I glanced up at him feeling a bit overwhelmed. My eye twitched and I secretly tried shaking it off. "I'm going to guess that Stacy was the waitress that messed up my order the other day," I questioned

I felt the presence of someone behind me before a hand gripped my shoulder and squeezed. I swiftly turned around me to see the young girl from the other day. Her blue eyes gleamed with joy as she pushed her blond strands out of her face. "I'm Stacy," she said. "I'm sorry about the other day. I would like to start fresh." She smiled at me revealing her small set of dimples.