Free All In by Marta Brown Page A

she keeps staring at her feet, like
they’re the most interesting things she’s ever seen. Inside I’m
dying. I widen my eyes at Mr. Billings begging silently for a life
preserver.
    He clears his throat and gives me a
knowing nod, “Mr. McCarthy, sir, Miss Whitmore, right this way.” He
gestures with a wide sweep of his arm toward the dining room
entrance. I wonder as we walk if Mr. Billings is trying to help me
out by treating me like a member, or if he’s covering his butt
after insinuating a member’s date should get to the back and wash
dishes. Either way I’m relieved when Madison shows us to a table
tucked into the corner of the dining room with an amazing view of
the harbor.
    “This is really nice,” Ashley offers
once we’re seated and looking over our menus. I know she’s been
here before, and this is probably not all that special of a
restaurant to her, but I appreciate her acting like it is. It makes
me feel like I’m not failing completely. Yet.
    A new waiter, one I’ve never met
before, which I’m thankful for because I don’t feel like getting
razzed in front of Ashley by one of my friends, takes our orders
then returns promptly with our salads.
    I look down at the multiple sets of
forks, knifes and spoons in front of me and realize I have no idea
which utensil is for which course, even though I’ve set these
tables a million times. I’ve never actually eaten at this nice of a
restaurant or paid any attention to which utensil the Stays use.
Crap. I steal a quick glance at Ashley’s place setting while she’s
telling me about growing up in Hartford and luckily I’m able to
deduce which fork she’s chosen to use.
    Crisis averted.
    We fall into comfortable conversation
during dinner, never experiencing any awkward first date silences.
She’s easy to be myself around, and I like to listen to her talk.
She’s smart and funny, and when she laughs it makes me want to say
something funny again so that I can keep hearing it. What is this
girl doing to me?
    “And how was everything this evening?”
our waiter asks, his eyes lingering on Ashley, and I suddenly
understand why Gregory yelled at me.
    “It was great, thanks,” I say, pulling
his attention back to me.
    “Very good, sir.” He nods, discreetly
placing the bill next to me and walking away.
    I stop myself from making a choking
sound when I open the thin black leather folder and see a hundred
and twelve dollar bill for dinner tucked inside. I’ve worked here
for three summers so I shouldn’t be surprised by the total, but I
am. I clearly miscalculated when I got cash out of my savings
earlier today.
    Shit.
    I do a quick calculation in my head
and realize I have a little less than a hundred bucks left on me
after buying Ashley flowers and filling up my tank. My heart starts
to pound, but I try to keep my face expressionless while my mind
scrambles with a way to pay for dinner.
    I give her a quick smile as a plan
develops. “Will you excuse me? It seems I left my wallet in the
car,” I say to her nonchalantly, even though on the inside I’m
freaking out.
    “Of course,” she says, glancing at the
check then back up to me. “But—”
    “I’ll be right back.” I give her my
most confident smile before casually walking out of the restaurant
and then out the front door. The fresh air hits me like a welcome
drink of water in the desert, and I’m able to take a few deep
breaths to calm myself down.
    My plan will work. I hope. Otherwise
I’m gonna have to beg Mr. Billings to take it out of my
paycheck.
    “Vic?” I call out into the mostly
empty room but don’t see him anywhere.
    “Vic’s gone for the night,” Pete says
from a table in the back of the garage where he has his feet
propped up and is reading a magazine. “A little over dress for
detailing, don’t ya think?” He smirks.
    Funny. Haven’t heard that one
before.
    “Dude, Pete, can you do me a huge
favor?” Technically he still owes me one. “I’m on a date right