CHAPTER ONE
“Holly, what’s with you today?” Belle asks as she catches up with me. “Since when are you in such a hurry to get to work?”
I smile back at her. I hadn’t noticed but now that she mentions it, it’s true my pace is a little faster than usual.
“It’s spring,” I tell her. “And spring does that to me!”
Well, to be honest, that’s not all. It’s spring and it’s Friday and since the beginning of the month we have a new regular on Fridays.
He’s this big guy who’s been haunting my dreams since the first time he sat in my section.
“Spring or Mister DDH?” Belle asks, always perceptive when it’s about guys.
“Maybe a little bit of both,” I admit.
DDH stands for “Drop Dead Handsome” which is the nickname I picked for this man. It’s a little lame, I know, but what do you want from me? Waiting tables is a boring job so we entertain ourselves by giving new monikers to all our regulars and comparing notes during our cigarette break.
Belle’s really good at it but then she’s been working at Trucker’s Haven for a couple of years and probably picked more than half the nicknames of the long haul truck drivers who sometimes ride an extra hundred miles just to see her.
The unit we share is a stone’s throw away from the diner. A noisy place on the main road but Belle won’t move ’cause it’s practical. No commute. And also it’s perfect to take her extended cigarette breaks with a good looking guy in dire need of some extra TLC.
Yeah, my roommate’s a bit slutty but, as far as I can tell, most of the women who call her a tramp are jealous gals who just wished they were more like her. A free spirit.
I’ve always wondered if I could do the same. First I would need to be at least half as sexy. I guess I’ll never know. It’s not a question of size. Belle’s no light weight either but somehow she’s come to terms with it. I have my days but I’m still struggling.
The thinnest I’ve been in the past decade was still large and that was after one year of intense dieting.
Since then, I’ve thrown in the towel and picked up the napkin.
I do get some proposals mind you. After all, some guys do go for the fluffier side but I’m pickier than Belle. Now if DDH were to invite me for a roll in the hay, I would have him out the door and in our tiny love nest quicker than you can say … well just about anything.
That’s what I would like to believe but I’m not really sure what I would do. I’m no prude but I’m not as wild as Belle. Anyway, dreaming is free and my fantasies don’t hurt anyone, right?
But DDH is nowhere to be seen when I begin my shift.
In the booth my fantasy guy favored during his first three visits there’s Volcano, an older sweet guy with a horrible skin condition. Lucky for me, today it’s not so bad. I can actually look at him and not feel sick to my stomach. I put on my best smile thinking about Belle’s number one advice to all the new girls when they start, “The wider the smile, the better the tip.”
The hours tick away. The shift is busy, the turnover quick and the tips decent.
On Fridays most men don’t linger. Those with a family want to get home to their wives and kids, those without want to get ready for a wild night out or a full night of sleep.
When my shift is over, I’m dead tired. Belle will work two extra hours. I don’t know how she does it. I’m washed out. I also feel down. It’s stupid but I can’t help myself.
DDH is not a regular trucker. He did tell me that much himself with an impressive baritone voice that had my insides melting. For all I know, I’ll never see him again ’cause his landing in my diner three weeks in a row was a fluke.
Oh well, it’s silly to be blue about this. It will pass. I always feel better after showering the smell of food away, taking a nap, and then painting the town red with Belle. Yeah, it’s Friday and on Friday nights our favorite