"You've got another single at table seven," Shunran said.
Kagome groaned, stuffing her most recent tip into her apron. "Why is everyone out eating by themselves tonight?"
The young girl was gazing at the back of the restaurant, and Kagome had to poke her in the side with her pen. Shunran jumped, then turned bright red. "Sorry. Table seven is really hot."
"All the more reason not to stare," she chastised. "You're the first person people encounter when they walk into the restaurant. Don't start off their night by being creepy. It only affects the servers' tips."
She bowed in apology. "He specifically requested a table in the back. He might be having a bad day," she advised.
"Or," Kagome said, grabbing a menu. "He just needs a quiet place to unwind. No judging until the tip comes out."
Shunran giggled as she shook her head. "You always see the good in people, Kagome. You don't even get mad when they stiff you."
"Oh, I do," she argued. "And my bank account certainly does. But the people at the next table don't need to see it. Remember what happened a couple months ago with the coffee?"
Shunran made a face. "I can still smell it when I walk through that section. I think it's stained the walls." Kagome had made a snarky comment under her breath about the pennies she'd been left, and the uptight woman and her clique a few tables over had heard her. She'd then berated Kagome about being ungrateful for what she'd been given and attempted to throw an entire carafe of coffee at her when Kagome had tried to calm her down.
Sighing, and hoping she'd been right about her initial assessment, she headed over to her new table. Maybe she'd luck out and he'd just been sent ahead to hold the table for the rest of his friends. So far, the tips had been terrible, and she seriously contemplated telling Kagura to bring her books to the restaurant to study while she worked.
The man's back was to her, but she noticed the side-swept hair and high collar of an expensive shirt and internally groaned. Today just wasn't her day. Plastering on a smile, she lay a menu onto his table before turning around, her usual shpiel of the day's specials dying on her tongue as they locked eyes.
Shunran hadn't been kidding. The guy was gorgeous.
He raised an eyebrow, and she cleared her throat. "Evening, I'll be your server today. Can I get you something to drink?"
He gave her a thoughtful look, folding his newspaper in half. "Do you always stare at your guests when you approach their table?" he asked.
Kagome flushed. "Sorry. You looked familiar, so I thought you might've been in one of my classes."
A dark brow rose. "You think we met at university?"
She blinked in confusion. "Was it somewhere else?" She racked her brain, trying to think of where she'd seen him before. It hadn't been anywhere recent, as she would've definitely remembered that jawline, but she couldn't recall ever running into him. And he'd certainly never come into the restaurant before.
"We have never actually met," he admitted. "But I am contemplating firing my agent. He clearly lacks marketing skills."
Agent? Was he someone famous? Prickles of awareness crept up the back of her neck, and she stared wide-eyed as the relaxed expression was replaced with a well-practiced sneer. He straightened his shoulders, and Kagome could picture the sword in his hand—and the marks on his face.
Sesshoumaru Taisho was sitting at a booth in her restaurant.