FAGE 9: The Last Ride

Title: Leather & Lace

Written for: Deonne

Written by: Drowning in Chaos

Pairing: Isabella & Paul

Rating: M

Prompts Used:

Prompt 1- 'A gentleman holds your hand, A man pulls your hair, A soulmate will do both.'

Prompt 4 – Friends, to enemies, to lovers (though I kinda did lovers to enemies to lovers)

If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this exchange visit the facebook group: Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps or add the C2 to get all the stories direct to your inbox.

Community/FAGE-9-The-Last-Ride/93625/

This story has not been beta'd as I really wanted to get this story out for a lovely lady that missed out on her gift. All mistakes are my own.

I truly hope I have done your prompts justice and thank you for playing a part in something that has been going for almost a decade. It is so bittersweet to see FAGE come to an end.

Special thanks to VampMama for being the pillar of FanficAholics Anon's FAGE for the past 8 rounds, and to Speklez for putting her hand up to run one last FAGE.

RETURN OF THE EX

"I asked for my eggs to be hard, this is soft, and I don't know what you'd call this bread, but it certainly isn't sourdough!"

I look down at the plate the customer has thrust angrily toward me. Her poached egg has been cut in half, its golden centre looking very well done as it sits atop the sourdough bread that looks a lot like sourdough.

"Here's a suggestion – go fuck yourself, you conceited bitch."

Is what I want to say. Instead I sigh dramatically and plaster on a smile.

"I'm so sorry for that. Let me get the chef to fix that up for you and I'll get you a free coffee in the meantime."

"UGH! FINE! But it better be right next time. I'll have an extra shot vanilla latte. No sugar," she snaps, before turning on her heels and heading back to her table.

It takes all my might not to flip her off behind her back. My eyes do follow her to her table though and I watch as the customer shakes her head and gestures wildly with her hands while dramatically telling her table mates what terrible tragedy she's just been through, all before she even reaches her chair. I watch her sit gingerly and my breath catches when I see who she's sitting with.

My gut clenches and twists. Something terrible is about to happen. I know it, they know it, the whole world knows it, yet I just can't look away.

Maybe I'm way too curious for my own good.

Maybe it's just plain stupidity.

For whatever reason, just like anyone does when there's a horrific accident happening right before their eyes, I watch it unfold as if in slow mo.

All at once the rest of the table look in my direction. Dark, familiar eyes stare at me and I'm hopelessly rooted to my spot, so I stare back, and I do my best to garner what it is they are feeling.

It's not quite embarrassment, possibly more of an apologetic look.

Well, two of them do, but not the third person. He – well he just looks amused.

His eyes crinkle at the edges as a smug smile takes form and then, fork in hand, he gives me a small wave.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver runs through my body as though a draft has just been let in. I look away and busy myself by writing down the coffee order and sliding it across to Jessica even though I know she heard the debacle. Picking up the plate I storm into the kitchen and let Peter know what the customer said and, before he has time to cuss about the whole thing, I yell out the table number it needs to be delivered to and walk out the side exit.

The stench of food scraps nearly makes me turn around and go back inside, but instead I lean against the red brick wall and close my eyes. Deep breaths simultaneously calm my heart rate and desensitises me to the horrendous smell of rotting food emanating from the nearby bins.

The sound of the side door opening and closing makes me jump.

"Just me." Jessica already has a cigarette hanging from her lips and I watch as she pulls a lighter from her pocket and lights it. Smoke slowly makes its way toward me and I swat it away. "So, Paul's in town," she says casually, before blowing out more smoke.

I groan and lean back onto the wall.

"Who's the crazy bitch?"

I glance at her and can't help but laugh when she smiles at me.

"I asked for hard eggs!" she mimics. "My fake eyelashes are outrageous and I have a face like a cat's ass, now give me a vanilla latte!"

We both laugh until Jessica's laugh turns into a cough.

"You need to give that shit up," I say, for what feels like the hundredth time.

"One day," she muses, before putting her cigarette out on the wall and tossing the butt into the bin.

"We better get back in before Peter loses his shit. The trainee has already delivered food to the wrong table twice." She laughs and puts her hand on the door handle, but then glances back at me. "You okay?"

I nod and brush my apron down for no reason except to break eye contact.

"Whoever she is, she's got nothing on you."

I look back up and smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "Thanks."

The quietness of the outside world is shattered the moment we step back into the kitchen. Plates clatter and Peter's usual nonsensical mumbling have become outspoken insults, of which only half are said in English.

I watch momentarily as he points to something on the plate in front of him and lists all the things that are wrong with it, making James throw the contents out and start again. As soon as he moves to the service window, I cut in before he can scar the new trainee on his first day.

"I'll take these." I pick up the two waiting plates and sigh in relief when I see they are for a table at the opposite end to where Paul's family and his new thing are sitting.

As I step out on the floor I dare a glance in the direction of their table and feel uneasy when I see it is empty. My eyes meet Jessica's and she points inconspicuously at Victoria, our front end manager, who looks a remarkable shade of red all over, her eyebrows so furrowed they resemble a ginger caterpillar – if there is such a thing. She's pissed. Something went down and I can't wait to hear all about it, so I deliver the plates as fast as I can. By the time I make it back, Victoria has already started seething.

"… and then she told me to look up sourdough and how it's made, and to then pass that info on to our supplier. Crazy fucking bitch is lucky I didn't jump the counter and rip her fake ass eyelashes off and tape her mouth shut with them," she finished.

Jessica and I burst out laughing.

"What is with those eyelashes?" I add.

"Ugh!" Jessica rolls her eyes. "They looked super trashy, and don't even get me started on that lip liner. Who does she think she is? Kylie Jenner?"

"Probably." A male voice stops us in our tracks.

Paul is standing at the counter, face smug as shit, one eyebrow raised and looking directly at me. I'm a deer in headlights, but I can see in my peripheral vision that my colleagues have had no problem in finding their legs and using them.

Bitches.

"I … um … hi?" It comes out more as a question.

"Hey. I just wanted to apologise for my cousin's behaviour earlier…"

Cousin? Does that mean she's not his …

I notice that he's still talking and try to tune back in.

"… so if you want to come?"

I shake my head to see if anything he just said subconsciously got saved in there somewhere. Nada.

"I'm sorry what?" I ask, unsure.

"I said it's Avery's birthday party at our place tonight, did you want to come? She'd love to see you there."

Ah, sweet, sweet Avery. I miss that kid. I haven't seen her much in years. Hell, I haven't seen much of Paul's family since we broke up and he moved state. I think it helped that I moved to the city an hour away from our small town. Thinking about it I guess Avery would be about eighteen now.

"If you don't want to … I mean … Look, don't worry about it –"

"Sure, I'll be there," I cut him off.

He smiles, and I feel a pang in my chest. Amazing how sometimes your memories don't quite compare to seeing the real thing right in front of you.

"Okay, great. I'll see you there."

With a small wave he turns and walks out the door.

As if performing a magic trick, my co-workers appear out of nowhere and surround me.

"Holy shit," Victoria whispers.

"Holy shit," Jessica echoes.

And with that, they get back to work and I'm left to assemble my thoughts and work out what the fuck is going on with my heart.