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“Oh!” I didn’t know what else to say. “I’ll leave you to eat in peace then.” I backed away from the table, narrowly avoiding walking into a customer on their way to the exit.

I’d served and cleared several other tables before it was time to return to table thirty-four. A nagging guilt had been circling through my mind ever since I’d left there; a need to apologize for staring. If I didn’t deal with it, I knew the guilt would follow me home. I approached the table with faint trepidation, trying to decide the best way of approaching the subject. “How was your meal, sir?”

He pulled a face. “Don’t call me sir, please. Makes me feel ancient.”

“I’d need to know your name, sir, in order to call you by something other than that.” The words came out before I could stop them. It sounded like I was flirting. Was I flirting? I wasn’t in the habit of trying to find out customers’ names. I had to admit though, the more I looked at him, the less I noticed the scars, and the more I reverted back to my first impression of him as being absolutely gorgeous.

He hesitated. He was probably contemplating why on earth he’d want to share personal information with a waiter he was never going to see again. Especially one that stared at him rudely. Flushing slightly, I tried to backtrack to save him the embarrassment of having to shut me down. “Sorry, I just meant…Actually, I don’t know what I meant. Ignore me. It’s been a long day.” I took a deep breath. Remembering why I was there, I set about clearing the table, keeping my gaze purposefully and studiously averted from the man who sat there. “Can I interest you in the dessert menu?”

“Justin.”

“Sorry?” I raised my head, my gaze clashing with the green gaze of the man.

He smiled. “My name’s Justin. Now you don’t have to call me sir.”

I returned the smile, grateful for him trying to make me feel better. “Do you want the dessert menu, Justin?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I wouldn’t normally, but go on then, just this once.”

* * * *

Covering Kate’s tables as well as my own, meant opportunities to take even so much as a ten second breather had been few and far between. I checked my watch. I had a break coming up in ten minutes. I could probably only afford to take five, but it was better than nothing.

The restaurant was starting to wind down, with some tables remaining blessedly empty and unlikely to be filled again before closing time. I snuck a glance over to Justin’s table. He was still working his way through the dessert I’d delivered to him a few minutes earlier: some sort of horrendously rich chocolate mousse.

I was surprised, after him saying he didn’t usually eat dessert, that he hadn’t send it back. But, he seemed to be enjoying it. He lifted his head, meeting my gaze head-on. Great! Now he’d caught me staring again, and I hadn’t even gotten around to apologizing for the first time. I didn’t know whether to wave, nod, or run away again. I was saved from having to decide when Susie appeared next to me. She leaned in. “So, you two were very chatty.”

“Hmmm, what?”

She inclined her head toward the table I was doing my best to avoid looking at. “You and Beauty and the Beast.”

The name hit a nerve. “Don’t call him that! That’s a horrible name to give someone. You don’t know what caused it. Something horrible probably happened to him.”

She held both hands up in mock surrender. “Gee! Sorry. You know I don’t mean anything by it. Anyway, doesn’t change the fact you two seemed to be getting along well.”

“Not a crime is it, to be friendly?”

She smiled. “You’re awfully defensive. All I wanted to say is…if you like him, you should ask him out.”

I looked back over, noting the fact he’d finished his dessert. That meant I needed to go over there and collect his dish. “You think?”

Susie winked. “Sure. I mean if the”—she waved her hand in the direction of her face to illustrate her point— “doesn’t bother you, go for it.”

Her words rang in my ears, all the way over to the table. “How was it?”

He gave the same crooked smile as earlier. “Sweet…but good.” He patted his stomach. “I better not make a habit of it, though.” My gaze automatically traveled to where his hand rested, taking in what looked very much like washboard abs and a flat stomach. Given the bulging biceps his shirt couldn’t hide, I’d bet anything there wasn’t an inch of fat lurking beneath his clothes, anywhere. I pulled my gaze away with difficulty. “Listen, I just wanted to say…well, I should have said it earlier…that is, I wanted to say sorry. For staring at you. It was—”

“Which time?”

“What?”

“Which time? When you were staring at the beginning of the evening? Or just now?”

I didn’t know what to say. “I…”

He laughed at the expression on my face. “I’m just winding you up. I’m used to it. Don’t worry. You and half the restaurant have stared tonight. It’s more unusual when people don’t do it. I won’t pretend it’s easy, but it’s never going to go away, so”—he suddenly looked sad— “I’ve come to terms with it. Well, most of the time…anyway.” He forced a smile. “I should be thanking you.”

I frowned. “Why?”