All of Me

“Would you like to order? I can make recommendations if you would like,” he offered, grinning at first one, then the other.

“Actually, we both know what we want,” Diana informed him after winking at Rena. “I’m going to the omelet bar.”

He jotted it down on his pad and smiled at Rena. He glanced quickly at her bre*sts, which were showcased in a tight, v-neck sweater. “And for you, miss?”

Rena cleared her throat and lifted her hand to play with the charm around her neck, drawing the young man’s eyes to her bre*sts again. With a smirk at Diana, she spoke to him in a quiet voice so he would have to lean closer to her to hear her. “Spinach and mushroom quiche, please.”

“An excellent choice,” he said with a wink. “You’ll enjoy it immensely. More mimosas?” His eyes didn’t stray from Rena’s.

She lifted her glass and smiled at him. “You just refilled our glasses. But my phone seems to be missing your number…”

His brow scrunched and cleared quickly as her meaning dawned on him. He flipped a page on his notepad and scrawled his number. With a flourish, he wrote his name under the number and handed it to Rena. “I’ll place your order immediately.”

Diana lifted her hand to gain his attention. “Do I just go up to the omelet bar?”

He glanced at her briefly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Rena read the paper and smiled up at him, batting her eyelashes like a girl. “Thank you, David.”

“You’re more than welcome…” he paused with his eyebrows lifted in question.

“Rena.” She lifted her hand to shake his, but he took it, turned it, and kissed her knuckles. She watched his ass as he walked away.

“Rena! I can’t believe you just hit on the waiter!” Diana exclaimed, laughing.

She shrugged, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “He started it. I finished it.”

“Are you going to call him?”

Rena tucked the piece of paper away in her wallet. With an apathetic look on her face, she said, “Maybe. If I get hard up. I’d have to teach him everything.”

Diana giggled as she rose from her seat. “He is young, but that means he’s trainable. I’m going to the omelet bar.” She turned to walk away, but stopped and returned to the table. “Remind me I have to tell you who’s been texting me.”

Rena waved her hand at her, shooing her to get her food. “Hurry up then. I’m curious.”

Diana chuckled as she meandered through the tables to the omelet bar. The café was large though quaintly decorated to feel more intimate. The tables were small, for no more than four people, and all were set with immaculate china and silverware. The napkins had been shaped into fans and placed in the mimosa flutes, waiting patiently like peacocks with their tails extended for a customer to sit and make use of them. The white tablecloths and comfortable, cushiony chairs pushed up to each table spoke of an elegance Diana hadn’t always had in her life.

As she waited to place her omelet order behind two older gentlemen in suits, she reflected on the changes wrought in her life. She’d grown up with just her mother; her father had disappeared before her birth. Her mother, though, came from a background of strength. She had put herself through college and had become a successful accountant for a law firm. Diana had never gone without the necessities of life, but she certainly hadn’t been spoiled. Before meeting Marty, she’d never have stepped into this café.

And he’d worked his way up as well, of course. He hadn’t been handed anything, which made him proud, as he should be. And she was proud of him as well. Though he’d told her she didn’t have to work at all, she wanted to, at least part time. She wanted to prove her worth as well. The two of them were a perfect fit: both hard working, both wanting to prove themselves, though for different reasons.

Marty had grown up poor, and by the time he was sixteen, both his parents were dead. He’d escaped going into the system by living with an aunt who only fed him and sheltered him, nothing more. As soon as he’d turned eighteen, he’d left, figured out how to put himself through college, and began what had proved to be a highly successful, highly lucrative career in stocks. The man was a genius, in Diana’s opinion.

She ordered her omelet with a smile and hurried back to their table. Rena was chatting and giggling with the waiter, and Diana slowed her steps to give them a moment of privacy. The plate was hot, so she didn’t dawdle too long. She cleared her throat as she sat down. He glanced at her, straightened, and smiled.

“More mimosa?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” Diana smiled. He sauntered away. “Dear God.”

“What? He’s cute,” Rena defended as she dug into the quiche in front of her. “So, tell me who’s been texting. Hope it’s more interesting than my almost love affair with the waiter.”

“It is, actually,” Diana sniffed. “Ronaldo.”

Rena fork clattered to her plate in anger. “What the hell for? And what did he say?”

Diana summarized the text messages, sighing when she finished. “Marty promised to get me a new phone and number today. I’ll text you when I get it.”

“Okay, but why is he texting you?” Rena emphasized as she picked up her fork and continued eating.

“Well, I guess he wants to rekindle the relationship,” Diana said with a shrug. “Which, of course, I am completely uninterested in.”

“I would hope so,” she grumbled, slicing into her quiche with more violence than necessary. “The son of a bi*ch broke your heart and tried to make you the bad guy.”

Diana shook her head at her own stupidity. “I can’t believe I let him manipulate me like that. He made me feel like I was the problem. So embarrassing.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed at all,” Rena growled, pointing her fork at her. “He’s the asshole. You were in love. He doesn’t love anybody but himself.”

“You’re right. I learned from my mistake, and now I have a wonderful man to go home to,” Diana said with a surge of happiness.

“Exactly. So finish your omelet so we can find the perfect wedding dress,” Rena said with a wink. She lifted her glass, and Diana mimicked her. They clinked them together and drank.