Five years earlier
I just finished serving Mr. and Mrs. Washington when a man walked in. Kitty, one of my colleagues, had just seated in one of my assigned booths. I walked over and handed him a menu.
"Hello, sir. Welcome to Phillip's, can I get you started with a drink today?"
"Yes please," he said, and as he put the menu down he looked up at me and his hazel eyes twinkled and met mine. "I'd just like water please," he said. I noticed that he had a Italian accent. It was beautiful.
"Of course. I'll be right back." I went back to the kitchens and grabbed a clean glass. I went over to the pitchers and filled the cup. For some reason, I was so aware of his presence. It made me a little nervous.
When I got back to the table the man wasn't looking at his menu. He was looking at me.
"Have you decided what you want to order?" I asked politely, trying to calm my nerves and fast beating heart.
He shook his head and quickly picked up the menu.
"Uh… what's your favorite?"
"Oh, well, I really like the shrimp scampi." I reached over and pointed to the dish on the menu. I quickly pulled my arm away realizing I leaned in a little too far to be proper.
Our hands touched.
Oh, God. I wasn't living in a romance novel. This was real life.
"Sorry about that," I mumbled. He let out a light laugh and smiled as he told me he'd like that dish.
After he finished his food, he kept looking at me. It made my heart flutter. It was so weird. As I was taking the bill, I realized he left a twenty dollar bill as a tip. I turned back to make sure it wasn't a mistake, but sure enough, he caught my eye. The way he was looking at me made something spark in me.
The next few days the man keeps coming back. I noticed him actually pointing to the same table he's sat at every day. My colleague nodded and let him sit at the booth.
I finished at the table I was at and moved to his.
"Hello again, what are you feeling like today?"
"The usual…" I laughed and nodded as I moved to the kitchens. When I came back I got ahead of myself. I sat the plate down and asked his name.
"Alexander Hamilton. Yours?"
"Eliza Schuyler."
"That's a beautiful name, Eliza. Is that Dutch?"
"Yeah, I'm from upstate," I said. "And you?"
"Where I'm from?" he asked, pointing to himself. I nodded. "I lived in the Carribean until I was fourteen."
"That's cool," I said.
"Thank you, Eliza." When he said my name with his accent my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
Again and again Alexander kept coming to the restaurant, ordering the same dish everyday and sitting in the same booth. He even waited for the people in the booth before him to finish before he let himself be seated at any other table.
Maybe because he knew I'm always in charge of working those specific booths. I knew this because I saw him sitting in the waiting area when we had plenty of other tables available. But I wasn't stalking him or anything.
When he finally got to his table he ordered the shrimp scampi and before I left he asked me, "Can I know what time you get off work? I'd like to see you again."
This took me by surprise.
"Nine…"
"Eliza, would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight?"
I smiled, hiding a blush. His big eyes were really adorable. "I would love to."
"Then it's a date," he said as he started eating.
It's a date.