The next morning after Spencer went to work; Cris-Marie dressed, pulled her hair into a lower pony, and walked to a small diner a few blocks away. "Hey, toots," an older woman asked as she sat down. "What can I get you?"
Cris-Marie smiled faintly. "A job," she sighed, spinning on a stool and taking a sip of the black coffee. "And some way to tell my roommate I might be in love with him."
"Well, what kind of experience you got?"
"I was in a rock band and I teach on the side. I'm between both types of gigs." She had never referred to teaching as a gig before. She had always imagined it being her career, but it wasn't working out that way. "My roommate says I don't need to get a job, but I need something to do. Right now, I'm just sleeping on his sofa."
"How old are you, toots?"
"I'm twenty-five. Name's Cris Carter." She would have shaken the waitress' hand but the cook rung his little bell at that exact moment.
"Order up, Alana!"
Alana quickly took the plate of food to the man sitting in the back booth. "Here you go, Karl."
"You from around here, Carter?" the cook asked.
"No, sir," she replied. "North Central Washington," she paused. "The State."
"You don't look like a rock star. You hiding a tattoo or something?"
"They're good for covering scars. I have a European dragon on the back of my right leg and a dragon's eye on each of my shoulder blades."
"Whatcha do to your leg?"
"Ill-fated attempt to reverse a brain-based birth defect. All it did was put me in casts for a month and make it so I can't wear heels."
"You're not going to want to wear heels working here, toots," Alana said. "You'll be on your feet all day."
"I'm hired?" Cris-Marie was surprised. "Great! I wasn't even considering waitressing! When I do start?"
The woman threw her a uniform. "Tomorrow morning. Let's say four?"
"4 AM? Got it. I better get home and call my roommate, so he doesn't wake me up when he gets home."
"About that, toots. Maybe you should…"
"Thank you, Alana, cook, guy in back named Karl. I'll see you tomorrow."
---
Reid's desk phone rang. "SSA Dr. Reid."
"Hi, Spencer. It's Cris-Marie."
He looked around the bull pen. Everyone was working. "Hey, Cris. Is something wrong?"
"No, Spencer. I'm fine. I did get a job though. It starts tomorrow. I have to get up really early, so if I'm asleep when you get home, try not to wake me up okay?"
"What sort of job?"
"The diner down the street. Morning shift."
"That's—um—great, but aren't you over qualified?"
"You're talking to me about over qualification?"
"Okay, sorry. See you later?"
"Of course, Spence."
"Love you." Then all he could hear was the dial tone.