A story I've been playing with for a while.... Feedback is always appreciated :) Hope you enjoy!!
The minute I walked into the diner and saw the man waving to me from the window booth, I began to wonder why I'd even agreed to go on this stupid date in the first place. Sure the guy Andrea had set me up with was attractive. Under normal circumstances, I would go so far as to call him downright sexy. He had it all: amazing hair, looked great in just about anything, a gorgeous sparkling smile, manicured hands, and deep black eyes that could drag an unsuspecting woman across a crowded room. In short, he was probably a self-centered womanizer and totally not my type.
A half an hour's conversation with Jack Palmer confirmed my suspicions. Not only was I not into his constant chatter about his job, house, car, and exotic fish collection (which came along with an invite to his place after lunch), I was kind of turned off by his obvious surprise at finding out I was his lunch date. Whatever he'd been expecting it wasn't me, but he did a nice job at hiding his initial disappointment. I wasn't exactly the right girl for a guy only interested in an expensive lifestyle and casual sex.
While Jack was dressed in what I could only guess were designer dress jeans (I knew better than to ask), a well-pressed collared shirt, a pricey looking suit jacket, and sat across from me sipping delicately at his latte-something-or-other, I'd worn my nicest pair of Target-bought jeans and my favorite hoodie. Of course I owned nicer clothes than that, but Andrea had told me I'd be meeting my mystery man at the diner down the street from our apartment, so I'd assumed the whole ordeal was a casual one. I hadn't even bothered swapping my glasses for contacts that morning.
My plan for the day was a simple one. I'd meet some nice artsy guy with scruffy hair, glasses, and a musical inclination who'd be perfectly enjoyable for our one time date. He'd ask me out again after our lunch, and I'd tell him I'd check my schedule. If I felt like it I'd find the time to do it, but otherwise it wouldn't really matter if I bothered. Of course I should have known that wasn't how Andrea did things. She was all about the extravagant.
"Your Caesar Salad, sir." The heavenly voice of our waiter cut through my thoughts just as my date had switched topics from his fish collection (thriller...) To one of his ex's that apparently still worked for him. I wasn't too sure since I'd stopped listening about ten minutes before.
"Thank you, but I'm sure I ordered this without dressing on it? I prefer spreading the love myself, if you know what I mean." This last comment was directed at me with a wink.
"Thank you very much." I said as I received my burger from the waiter. I almost laughed when he rolled his eyes at me with a nod to my "date", but I settled for a small smile instead. I wasn't one to laugh at people no matter how much they asked for it.
I watched our waiter retreat to the front of the diner, wistfully daydreaming of what it would be like to be on a date with him instead of this bozo in front of me. The only thing I did appreciate Jack for, I decided, was his endless supply of conversation topics. There was virtually nothing I had to do to keep up the chatter which was nice for a quiet girl like me. Until I got to know someone I never really felt comfortable with conversations. They always seemed to fall flat within a matter of minutes. The art of chatting people up was Andrea's expertise, not mine.
"You know what I mean, Maddie?" I heard Jack ask, and I quickly snapped back to the present. It seemed his salad had been returned to him bone dry, and he was now drizzling dressing across with more care than I gave to my hair in the morning.
"Oh, yeah. Definitely." I replied picking up my burger and getting ready to chow down.
"You're a cool girl, Maddie." He paused his chatter to flash me a blinding smile, and no matter how much I didn't want them to, the butterflies in my stomach fluttered for a moment. I wasn't quite familiar with the fluttery-stomach feeling (it happened to me only with men I didn't stand a chance in hell with), and I was taken aback that Jack had been able to coax one out of me. I could feel the heat rising into my cheeks, and almost dropped my lunch in order to hide my girly embarrassment. Man this guy was good.
As I was contemplating the startling effect a single smile could have on a woman, I noticed a strange pair of men walk through the front door of the diner. The taller of the two wore a business suit with a pair of brand new black converse sneakers, and the stocky, more muscular man wore a white tee shirt under a black leather vest and dark blue jeans with black cowboy boots. Since I was in the process of trying to fulfill my dream of joining the NYPD, I made it a point to take down the details of their dress. What struck me as odd was the fact that they were obviously entering the diner together, but sat down at opposite ends of the restaurant. The man with the suit walked right by us and went to sit by the kitchen entrance while the muscle guy went and sat by the far windows. From there he made a motion with his hand.
"Could be a signal." I murmured under my breath and kept my eyes on him.
"Hmmm?" Jack asked wiping his mouth off on his napkin, and looking at me curiously. His back was to the door so he hadn't noticed the men.
"Nothing." I said quickly, and took the first bite of my burger which was still waiting patiently in my hands.
I smiled as I chewed and laughed at my foolishness. Of course it wasn't a signal. Sure the men had come into the diner together, but that didn't mean they knew each other. I was just trying to create bad guys out of ordinary men in order to occupy my wandering mind.
Not a moment after this very thought had crossed my mind, there was a huge slam and the front door of the diner opened to reveal a giant man with a pistol pointed directly at the cashier. A few people started screaming and there was pandemonium as everyone tried to get away from the weapon. A man behind the gunman stood to block the exit.
"Where is it?!" The giant man screamed with a thick city accent. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the suited man draw something out of his pocket and his partner did the same across the room. "Give it to me now or yer all dead!" The screaming and yelling intensified. A child began to cry.
My brain was screaming at me to do something, but I couldn't move. Across from me, Jack seemed to be in the same predicament with his fork poised halfway between his mouth and his plate. His eyes darted wildly from the tall man in the corner to the kitchen door, and back again. It was almost as if I could see his brain working, and I knew he was thinking of making a run for it. I wanted to tell him to knock it off, but my mouth was dry, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I swallowed hard, and tried to glance around at the other customers.
The diner wasn't full, but there were a good amount of people. Almost everyone was shouting at the cashier to do something, but the poor man just stood there with his hands above his head insisting in a high pitched whimper that he had no idea what the man was looking for. A woman was in hysterics in the corner booth by the window as she tried to dial for help on her cell phone.
Of course! Call 911! I reached for my cell, cursing my stupidity.
"Nobody move!" The tall man behind me yelled, and I froze. "Nobody move or I'll shoot!" I didn't think he was playing around. None of these men were.
I watched the tall man walk by me again, and I kept my eyes focused on his new converse sneakers. No use getting shot for unnecessary eye contact. There was a slight shift in the table and I noticed Jack had shrunk down in his seat while making an effort to hide his face.
"If you don't hand it over in ten seconds this place is finished." The tall man said in a deathly calm voice. I didn't know who he was talking to. Apparently no one else did either because no one moved.
Except Jack.
In his desperation to get out, Jack jumped up and started to sprint for the kitchen door. He didn't get very far at all.
With a move I wasn't expecting, the stocky man with the boots whipped out his gun and fired. Jack fell at my feet.