Ethan bites his thumb nail, a black business card laying on the counter in front of him. He's been staring at it for the past five minutes, his mind split on whether to call the alpha or not.
When Leo noticed he was still carrying it around in his apron pocket earlier that day, he asked what Ethan was waiting for. In all honesty, he didn't want to call. He doesn't think the alpha owes him anything, but after the long day his mother had, he figured maybe a thank you dinner would give her a nice time.
Maybe Ethan can exploit the rich alpha for his mother and then call it even. Then Zander wouldn't have to bother with him anymore.
"Honey, you can lock the doors now." She calls from in the kitchen, her small head peaking through the open square in the wall that allows anyone in the kitchen view of the lobby. She sent Jessi home early, as they don't have any customers. Ethan glances at the time on his phone. It's five minutes to closing, so locking up a little early shouldn't be too bad.
He drags his tired body to the front doors, but before he can twist the metal bolt into place, it chimes as it opens.
"You're not closed yet, right?" Two oddly familiar men walk in, making Ethan take a step back.
"Well, no but-" Ethan tries to explain that the kitchen has already closed, seeing as his mother already cleaned up.
"Good. I'm starving!" One of them picks a table near a window and relaxes in the chair. Ethan sighs and glances towards the kitchen, where his mother peaks her head out once more. She nods her head, the movement eager.
"What can I get for you today?" Ethan pulls out his notebook and pen, glancing from one alpha to the other. Why do they look so familiar?
"Hm, you don't have a lot of options do you?" One mutters as they scan the laminated menu. His nose wrinkles in distaste. "Jeez, you should add more dishes. Give your customers a variety, you know? You'd get more that way, I'm sure." He snickers at the end, his friend nodding along with him.
Oh, yay. He's one of those people.
"Thank you for the suggestion, we'll keep that in mind." Ethan forces a smile, the tip of his ball point pen pressing hard against his sheet of paper. "Would you like anything that we do have?" If not, please kindly fuck off.
The alpha across from him rubs his hand over the prickly stubble on his chin, "Is the strawberry shortcake fresh? Looks to be the only good thing about this place."
Ethan smiles, "Yes, it's made fresh every day. We still have a couple left." Say no and leave. But he doubts that will happen.
The alpha frowns, "That's not fresh. I want mine made fresh. Who knows what bugs may have touched it all day."
The betas smile falls and his jaw clenches. If his mother made a fresh batch just for this alpha, they'd be wasting so many ingredients. Before he can tell him that, the one across from him is already speaking.
"I'll have the chicken soup with a bowl of rice, and a bottle of beer please." He closes the menu and shoves it to the side of the table. It nearly falls over the edge, but Ethan is quick to catch it.
"Make that two. And that fresh strawberry desert." Then he rudely waves Ethan away as the two converse together.
Don't hit the customer. His mother's voice is like a mantra in his head. The first time he punched a customer, it was because an older man got to handsy with his mother's backside while she was taking his order. He ended up calling the police, and they barely settled the matter with a fee. Don't hit the customer.
"This will be easy to make." His mom smiles. The bags under her eyes are heavy, and Ethan wonders is she got any sleep last night. He hoped the night out with her friends would help her relax, but he doesn't see any change. "Don't worry." She reaches up to pat his cheek and he sighs. She returns to the kitchen and Ethan moves to the front counter.
The black business card catches his attention once more. He's convinced now. He will call that alpha and say the only way he can say thank you is by a fancy dinner. He's sure his mother would love some sea food and a pricy glass of wine or champagne.
There's a loud clatter from the lobby, and then an obnoxious laugh. Ethan stands with a frown, noting the metal dispenser for napkins that was on the table, is now on the floor. When the customers don't move to pick it up, Ethan groans. Why'd they decide to come eat here? And so near to closing time too.
He walks over to them and bends over to pick the napkin dispenser up. However, Ethan pauses when he sees familiar expensive shoes. Where has he seen those kicks before? He gapes when one of the said shoes, kicks the dispensary a few feet away, and then there's an annoying laughter.
Ah, now he remembers. These are the two alphas who were beating up Zander in the back alley. They must have come back to cause trouble for him since he made them leave. Ethan's jaw is clenched so tight he almost grinds his teeth together. He picks up the dispenser, firmly places it back on the table and flashes the kindest smile he can muster.
"Your shoes are nice." He says. He leans his hands on the table and leans forward. "Are they the real thing? Or are they knock offs?" The alpha with the fancy shoes frown. "I noticed the logo seems a little off. I hope you didn't pay too much."
"Are you saying they're fake?" The alpha nearly growls out.
"Hey, hey," Ethan steps back and holds his hands up in surrender. "Don't take my word for it. I'm just a lowly waiter." He drops his hands and smirks, "Of course no one would trick you into buying some cheap knock off, right?"
Then he turns around and stomps back to his spot at the register. Damn asshole.