3 Filing a protest

The diner was swarming with the customer this morning, trying to get their early dose of caffeine, breakfast after a jog or workout, busy working executives, and the ever-growing tourists who love to visit this place.

This diner had become a significant part of the city, with its colorful cultural history and classic architectural structure; many became regular customers.

"Scarlet, there are a new group of customers over there. Can you handle it? I still have several tables to serve," Andre uttered on her way back to the kitchen. She was one of the senior waitresses here who trained me with the job.

"Sure. I'm on it," I nodded. Andrea gave me her most adorable smile, snapping me from my reverie.

I made my way to the nearest table, equipped with my notepad. "What are your orders for today?" I poised my pen while waiting, giving them the chirpiest smile I could manage. The man directly to me dictated his order. I tapped the pencil on my hand as I waited for the rest to do the same.

"Excuse me, sir. Can I get your order?" I politely interrupted the man sitting nearest to me, which was busy conversing on his phone. Well, I could not wait for him all day.

Finally, he lifted his head and fixed me a glance. I immediately noticed his eyes, a peculiar shade of blue. I had seen a various set of blue eyes, so this should not be out of the extraordinary, but I was transfixed and lost into those brilliant orbs. It gave me a vague familiarity I could not explain.

Suddenly, I saw his mouth moving, but I did not catch what he said. "I'm sorry, but can you repeat that."

"I said I'll have a Caffé Americano." He repeated with a smug smile on his face, enunciating each word while still staring at my eyes. I felt my cheeks burned from embarrassment, so I swiftly moved on to the next table, whereas he went back to his phone conversation.

Quickly serving their orders, I went back behind the counter and busied myself. Looking around the room if a customer needed me, I found my eyes drifting back to the owner of those distinctive eyes. I got a glimpse of his face while he was talking with his companion.

He was strikingly handsome and looked like a man with authority, but I also found him somewhat arrogant. I wondered who he was, why did I feel a kind of awareness when I saw his eyes.

Then, he suddenly turned his head in my direction, catching me watching him. No matter how I told my brain to stop staring, I could not look away. With our eye contact, he had managed to make my heart worked overtime.

"Hey, are you OK?" Gemma tapped my shoulder on her way for a break, snapping me out of my trance. "Let's have some coffee," she gestured to the back of the restaurant. She was a very talented cook, working as the sous chef.

"Not really. It's just today is kinda hard," resting my elbows on the counter and slumping my head on my arms. Forgotten was the man with the intriguing eyes back was the reason for my gloominess.

"Oh! Is it today? I forgot," she said sympathetically, taking my hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Yea! I missed him. I wish I could see him." I blinked my eyelids, preventing the tears that threatened to roll down my cheeks. I swore to Harry that I would get my life in order, but sometimes it was hard to keep that promise.

"Come on." She took my arms, grabbed two coffees, and pushed me out the backdoor. "If your brother could see you now, he would not like to see you cry." She pointed out, indicating my current condition.

"Yeah! Of course, you're right," forcing a smile to lighten my mood. She just nudged her head at my pathetic attempt.

The dirty dumpster only dampened my already depressing mood, while the pungent odor of the alley only added to my lethargic state.

"I have an idea. I'll set you up on a date." Breaking to a big smile, believing that she just made the most relevant breakthrough to my dilemma.

I accidentally spilled the hot coffee on my hands and almost burnt my skin when I heard what she said. "Oh no, you will not," I said while blowing on my fingers, which were still stinging from the hot liquid. I could almost see the wheels in her brain turning with the way her eyes were dancing.

I tried dating before back home. It always ended up in a disaster. After going out with them twice, my dates were expecting something more, but something was missing. Eventually, I gave up on it. I concluded that dating was not for me.

"Why not? You need to get out and have fun. I want to remind you that you are still young and beautiful," she said with a little persuasion. She was right, but going on a date or having a relationship still made me feel apprehensive.

"Just don't do that," I warned her with finality, not wanting to talk about it anymore. I could not rationalize it, but that was how I felt. To put it simply, I was not ready yet.

It was just luck that I accidentally found her ad. Gemma was looking for a flatmate. When I inquired about it, Gemma readily offered the room to me at a low rate. Then, she even suggested the vacant position where she was currently working. That was how I landed in this waitressing job and ended up with a friend.

Gemma had been my bestfriend since I moved here. Being in a new place with no family around, friends were the only people I could rely on, especially at a time like this.

"Ok. If that is what you want, but I am filing a protest." She explicitly expressed, silently airing that the topic was not yet over. I could only smile at her attempt, but I already set up my mind. She just had to learn to accept it.

However, knowing Gemma, the topic of dating was far from over, and surely enough, she would find a way to achieve what she wanted. That would be to set me up on a date. She firmly believed that it was the only way for me to move on with my life.