Chapter 3
(Flashback Begins)
An eighteen-year-old Emma is wearing a waitress uniform. She's holding two orders as the cook says, "Swan, order up."
Emma sets the plates down to the people who had ordered them.
"Thanks," the people had muttered before they picked up their utensils and started eating.
Emma then spotted the lone male in a black jacket in the corner booth in her station. He was facing away from her. She walked up to him. "Are you ready to order?" she asked him as she readied her pen and pad for his order.
The male turned his head toward her. "Coffee and a burger," he told her.
"Really?" she asked amazed as she wrote down his order. "No beer?"
"I've got an appointment with someone after I eat dinner," the man told her.
Emma nodded and then walked away, but not before she glanced back over at him. She put the man's order up, took the two orders off the counter, and served it to the couple in her station.
Ten minutes later, Emma sat down his order right in front of him. He looked up at her. "You know," he said, "I feel like I've met you somewhere before."
Emma shook her head. "You have an interesting accent; I would have recognized it," she told him. "Speaking of interesting, where are you from?"
"Storybrooke," he said, "Maine. I'm the Sheriff there."
"Then what kind of business do you have in L.A.?" Emma asked him.
"For the mayor," he told her, "but I would like to see you again."
"You are so pressing your luck," Emma said a warning tone.
"Am I?" he asked teasingly. He could sense the interest in her.
"For one," Emma started explaining, "I don't go out with men who don't give me their names."
He gave her devilish smile. "I'm Graham Humbert," he said. "My name is Graham, and your name is Emma. That's a very pretty name."
Emma shrugged. She never understood why someone took the time to make a blanket and embroider her name they had obviously chosen with care and then abandon her on the side of the road. "I guess," she told him.
Graham gave her another smile. "How about drinks after your shift?" he asked her. "It should give me time to complete the business for the mayor."
Emma gave him an 'I don't know' look.
"One drink," Graham said. "You know the city better than me. You can pick the spot."
Emma gave him a shy smile. "You're on," she said giving in. "The mayor of your town isn't going to mind?"
Graham shook his head. "She doesn't have to know," he told her.
"Emma, quit socializing," the cook told her. "And orders up."
Emma sighed. "I have to get back to work," she told him.
"What about drinks?" Graham asked. "Where will I meet you?"
"When I give you your receipt," Emma said. "It'll have an address and a map."
Graham smiled and nodded. "Get back to work," he told her.
Emma smiled back at him as she walked back to the open window to pick up the next set of orders that needed to be served.