Chapter 7

The Lucky One

Lord have mercy!  What are you doing to me?

“Welcome sir!” Jasmine greeted warmly from the table she was at.

He acknowledged her and flashed me a devilish grin. 

My hands were trembling.  Please Jasmine, please take care of him for me! 

I tried sending her pleading looks and begging thoughts, hoping that my anxious thought-waves and bugging eyes would catch her attention and she would understand.  Unfortunately, she looked totally absorbed and preoccupied with her current customer.  I didn’t know what to do.  Someone had to act.  We couldn’t just ignore him in the doorway!

“Jyaa,” my customer sighed, lifting his mug to his lips, “I suppose I’ll let you be on your way now.”

No!  No, no, no, no!  Despite the horror that threatened to stifle me, I tried to not let it seep through my dark brown eyes. 

Graciously (terrified), I thanked him for his generosity with a slight bow and took my tray with coffee, cream and sugar pots to the counter.  I brushed by Jasmine on my way and asked her to help our new customer for me.

Glancing over at him again in the entranceway and taking in his super-model good looks, her eyes brightened.  “Okay!” she replied, all to eager to get close to someone who ought to be in a photo shoot instead of in a maid café right now.

I pretended to look busy at the counter, putting the little pot of cream back in the fridge and a fresh pot of coffee on to brew.  I watched from the corner of my eye as Jasmine greeted him in the doorway.  His hands were casually resting on his hips, thumbs in the pockets of his loosing fitted jeans, his biceps—God I need to stop staring!

Lowering my gaze to my mindless busy-work, I heard Jasmine chatting in a soft, but excited, voice as she guided him to a plush chair to relax in, and read off our menu list.  Despite my attempts at being preoccupied, I could still feel his piercing blue eyes on me.  My armpits grew moist.  Ah geez… so gross…

I glanced at him just in time to see him pointing at me.  My eyes widened as I saw him give a nod of his head and Jasmine turned to look back at me.

Uh oh.

Jasmine’s face drooped as she turned from him and approached me at the other end of the room.  “He said he wants to be served by you.”

No way!

I swallowed.  Of course he would request that I serve him.  So cruel!  I tried my best to flatter Jasmine and convince her to take care of him instead, but she shook her head, telling me how lucky I was.

Luck was not on my side today.

As if walking on eggshells, I ambled over to him, trying to mask the fear that threatened to trip me over my own two feet.

He was still smiling that all-knowing evil smile he had.  “You didn’t greet me when I entered,” he remarked pointedly when I reached him.

I swallowed.  “Welcome sir,” I said, fighting with my quivering voice and lips that trembled from my forced smile.  “Did Jasmine tell you our specials today?”

“She did,” he replied, “but I’d rather hear them from you.”

“Okay,” I mumbled.  I went over the specials quickly so that he could not hear the waver in my nervous tongue.  When I finished, I could see his eyes looking me over slowly.  My face immediately grew hot.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly.

My mouth felt dry.  I needed a drink.  Better yet, a stiff one.  Did Sakura keep any alcohol here?  I didn’t think so.

He pointed at Jasmine when a minute passed and I didn’t answer.  “She introduced herself as Jasmine.  I’d just like to know what your name is because I haven’t caught it yet.”

“Ah, hai,” I replied, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.  “Emiko.”  I didn’t know whether to give him my real name or not, but here at work, my real name was irrelevant—I didn’t even know Jasmine’s real name, or Elizabeth’s.

“Thank you, Emiko,” he said.  He seemed satisfied with himself and studied my hair from his seat.  “Your hair looks nice, but I think I prefer the little buns more—they seem to suit you better in that outfit.”

I blinked at him as I registered his comment.  I snapped out of my momentary loss of awareness.  “Ah, thank you.”

While I had just given him my name (sort of…), I still did not know his.  “Ah, I didn’t catch your name sir?  You’ve been following me around all day—to which I must remind you that stalking the maids is against the rules,” I told him hesitantly (which it was), but did it apply to one’s personal life too?  Especially if a maid and a customer went to school together?  I should clarify with Sakura…

He smirked and his eyes flicked briefly at Jasmine before his gaze returned to my bosom.  I cleared my throat and his eyes met my face at last.  “I’m sorry, I thought you already knew my name, but I guess you’re too absorbed in your books to notice.  That’s okay, I forgive you.”

My mouth fell open and I tried to make it work, but I stood there, bug-eyed, and gaping at him like a goldfish. 

Ugh!  It was all I could do to keep myself together and not make a fool of myself in front of customers.

His name was Dash.  And somehow, I was expected to know that.

“Japanese girls are different from Canadian girls,” I told him firmly.  I finally found my voice and asserted myself.  “School always comes before boys.”

“And that’s why you’re dressed as a maid and working in a—what’s is called?  Cosplay café?” he shot back.

Oh lord!  Fish out of the water!  I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from stuttering incoherently in Japanese.  My hands gripped my skirt tightly at my sides, the crinoline scratching my palms roughly.  It was a stance that kept me rooted in place, and prevented myself from flipping out.

“Sometimes you have to take a deep breath and step out of your comfort zone in order to make yourself stronger,” I managed to say.  “Now sir, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll give you a moment to think about what you’d like to order.” I quickly put the menu down in front of him and walked away.

Taking a deep breath to purify my mind, I returned to the older Japanese man.  The air was clearer the further away I got from Dash.  It was then that I noticed how hot I was and felt damp spots on my outfit.  Geez, I must have been sweating bullets over there…

To conceal my discomfort, I began to play with one of my curls as I took a seat next to him.  I needed to cool down, to rid my mind of Dash and all the awkwardness that just took place.  The best way for me to do that was to divert my attention, and the older man’s attention, away from my sweaty self.  I asked him questions about his hometown and what he did for a living back in Japan. 

I was always a sucker for stories, and that’s how I tended to pass the time at work.  Most of the customers liked to talk about themselves, and I was always more than happy to listen.  It was easy to smile and nod and look interested in what they had to say.  It helped that most of the time they did have interesting things to say.

The only problem was that I had a hard time knowing how to excuse myself and return to work.  It was definitely a skill I needed to work on because I needed to do it gracefully without appearing rude.

Eventually, Jasmine came up behind me and asked if she could steal me away.  He nodded and she took my hand and guided me to the counter.

“Why are you ignoring that hot guy over there?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes glancing quickly at Dash.

I wouldn’t even grant him a glance, but I knew I had to return to him and take his order.  “Because he’s an ass,” I hissed back in Japanese.

Her eyes flickered over to him again for a second.  “Really?  Well, regardless, you have to serve him.  We still have a job to do, whether he’s an ass or not,” she replied back in Japanese.

I knew she was right.  Closing my eyes and taking a deep calming breath, I plastered a smile on my face.  Satisfied, Jasmine smiled back at me.

With a quiet grace, I glided back to Dash and sat down in the plush chair next to him.  “Sorry for the wait, sir.  Sometimes it’s hard to excuse myself when another customer is sharing something interesting with me,” I told him before he could say a word to me.  I carried on without missing a beat, “So what can I get that would please you most?”

He raised an eyebrow.  I knew I had phrased the question suggestively, but interacting with the older man helped me to fall into my role and I wanted to keep it up and see just how much I could screw around with him to find out what he was really after.

“I saw how you were interacting with him,” he said, his eyes fixed on me.

Curiosity flickered in his scrutinizing gaze.  I lowered my eyes a little like a good little maid.  I knew the look from his view would be one of supple seduction.

“Bravo.  You must be in the drama club.”

I tried hard not to scowl at him, but instead chewed on my bottom lip.  “I have no time for drama and I’d like to keep it that way,” I replied, hoping he would get the hint to leave me alone from now on, although I had my doubts.  He would probably pursue me until he got what he wanted from Elizabeth.

That thought made me want to vomit.

He laughed then.  It was a genuine laugh, not one of mocking and evil plotting.  Once calm again, he pulled himself up and leaned toward me, an impish grin pulled the corner of his lips up.  “Now I’m really intrigued.”

“I know just what you need then,” I replied, pulling myself up, but making sure I did so in such away to draw attention to my chest.  “I’ll be right back.”

Flitting to the counter, I made him a hot chocolate and selected one of the quaint red velvet cupcakes with buttermilk icing and sprinkled candy heart confetti.  I quickly returned with the treats on a beautiful lacquered tray and placed the tray on the little table before him.

He raised an eyebrow.  I just winked at him and whispered, like it was a secret, “It’s Elizabeth’s favourite.”

“Oh,” he responded with surprise.  He laughed again, his deep blue eyes alight like the sky on a clear spring day.  “I see.  This is her favourite?  What is this then?” he asked pointing to the glossy milk chocolate brown coloured mug, steaming with frothy chocolaty goodness.

“It’s our Marshmallow Dream Hot Chocolate.  Elizabeth would drink these all day if they weren’t so rich and fatty,” I replied with a smile, causing him to laugh again.

I relaxed as his arrogance subsided and I could glimpse who was really underneath the exterior of Mr. Ego.  Still, I couldn’t make sense out of anything.

A new customer entered then, dressed in faded blue jeans and a loose fitting green shirt.  Perhaps five and a half feet tall, a little overweight, and in his late twenties, he looked around the café with a bored scowl on his round face.

Excusing myself from Dash’s side, I rose to my feet and went to help the new customer to his seat.  I told him about our specials before I returned to the older Japanese man.  After a few minutes of conversation about his first job, he looked at his watch, sighed, and asked for the bill.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked when I returned with this bill.

“Emiko sir.  Everyone here calls me Emi-chan for short,” I replied brightly.

He smiled back at me with a gentle, fatherly look in his dark brown eyes.  “It suits you.  You have a very genuine smile.”

He left some money on the table—including a generous tip—and left, telling me that he looked forward to seeing me again sometime.

I skipped to the cash register to ring up his bill before going to my new customer, taking his order, and returning to the counter to fill it.  As I prepared his drink, Jasmine joined me for a moment as she set to work on washing a few of the delicate teacups she had used.

“You seem to be in brighter spirits now,” she commented genially.

“Un,” I replied over the frothing machine.  It sputtered and hissed at me.  I sighed; I still hadn’t mastered it yet.

“Need a hand?” Jasmine asked, hearing my discouragement to the unpleasant noise.

I nodded and she showed me how she learned to tip the cup of milk a little with the wand slightly to the side, thus creating a whirlpool of smooth creamy milk.  “And now you have the right consistency of frothed milk, and light and bubbly foam,” she announced as she made a delicate leaf design in the middle of the foam in the prepared drink.

“Thank you very much,” I said warmly before I took the drink to my customer.  I would definitely have to try her technique next time.

He looked tired and wanted to be entertained by me.  I caught his eyes lingering on my legs.  Teasingly, I played with the bow at the top of my thigh-high tights as I fished for things to talk about.  He didn’t want to talk.  He just wanted to listen and stare at my legs as he sipped his latté.  It was creepy, but at least he wasn’t saying vulgar things and trying to touch me.

After a few minutes of awkward chitchat, I excused myself when I saw the bored look on Dash’s face a few tables down.  I returned to his side and saw that he had eaten the cupcake and drank half of his hot chocolate.

“So is this what you do all day?  Make drinks, serve snacks, and entertain people?” he asked, his eyes sweeping over the room as one of Jasmine’s customers left.

“Un,” I nodded.  “Sometimes it’s easy, like when people talk and all I have to do is listen and smile.  It’s harder when they want me to entertain them and do all the talking.  Elizabeth is better at it than I am, but I am trying to get better.”

“Uh huh.”

He still looked bored.  After a moment of uneasy silence, I was about to excuse myself when he asked if Elizabeth would be working tonight.  I shook my head no.

“Well then, this was a bust,” he sighed.

He ran his hand through his hair and pulled out his cell phone with his other hand.  Something on its screen caught his attention and his eyes flicked to the door.  He shifted apprehensively in his seat.

“How much do I owe you?”

…

AUTHOR’S NOTE:  We finally get an introduction from Dash here (if you didn't pick up his name from the summary). I named Yuriko after a Japanese lady I tutored.  She lived here for five years with her family when her husband’s company opened a new manufacturing plant in a neighbouring city.  Yuriko’s “maid name” Emiko means smiling child.  Her co-workers gave her that name because she had a bright genuine smile, despite being shy (and a little timid at first).  It also sounds cute, ha.

Anyway, thanks for reading, commenting and voting!