curious gazes

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Scrolling on her phone, Denise jumped and almost dropped the device when she heard the bell above the door tinkle in greeting. She wanted to stare down the new patrons that crossed the threshold, maybe they would get the message that she was not in the mood today. It had been completely dead her entire shift and she would prefer it to stay that way instead of pretending to be pleasant for the sake of a meager tip.

Lifting her sharpened gaze, she thought better of her initial instinct as she slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans before approaching the pair waiting by the front door. The man stood tall with his head slightly ducked to his partner's height, turning an ear to her as she shared something quietly with him. He smiled in response, his gaze brightening as he turned to mutter something back.

Denise's jaw tightened. It took everything in her not to blurt out and ask if they were aware that love didn't exist, that everything they were going through right now was nothing more than a passing fantasy before one of them would go off and meet someone new—maybe even the other's best friend—and fuck them behind her back and—

Taking in a deep breath, Denise reminded herself that she came to work today to forget. At least this way she could be paid for her moping.

"Hi, how are you today?" she sounded once close enough, decidedly less perky than her usual customer service persona. The kitchen staff was going to be extra annoying today if they overheard her.

"Good, thank you! How are you?" the girl asked, her hand clasped tightly in her companion's. A bright smile covered her features, matching the bubbly inflection of her voice. She was just the kind of person that would have a flouncy bow in her hair, Denise thought bitterly.

"I'm doing okay, thank you. Just the two of you?" she quickly moved on, reaching for a couple of flimsy menus from the half-assed hosting station. (She lodged a complaint at least once a week over this podium, citing how unnecessary the whole thing was for a diner like this. Her manager never seemed to receive them though, if the fact it was still here meant anything).

"Yes, please," the girl chirped, her polite smile never waning.

"Perfect," Denise deadpanned, already growing tired of the fluffy energy radiating off the pair of them, "This way, then."

Denise didn't bother to check over her shoulder or make small talk as she led them to the booth in the farthest corner away from the bar top and kitchen window. Given the size of the restaurant, it wasn't very far, but at least this way she could strategically hide by the register and scroll on her phone or talk shit with the kitchen staff without prying eyes.

"This work for you guys?" she asked out of habit, stepping aside in presentation of the booth.

"This is perfect, thank you," the girl smiled, looking up to the man at her side as if to verify. He didn't do anything other than give a private smile to her, barely even glancing at Denise or the seating arrangement. Denise held back a huff.

Leo used to look at her like that too, but then he fucked her best friend for six months.

With that, the pair of them scooted into the vinyl seating across from one another, finally dropping their clasped hands. Placing the laminated menus in front of them, Denise rattled off the lunch specials from memory, barely registering her words as they fell from her tongue. A faux smile decorated her face as she asked for their preferred drinks.

"Um," the girl floundered, attempting to sweep over the menu in record time, "Just a lemonade, please?"

Denise nodded before turning to the man, ensuring she didn't narrow her eyes too much at him. She saw the way he looked at his girlfriend with adoration in his eyes before realizing it was his turn. The gentle curl to his lips melted away when he looked up at Denise, voice flat as he ordered, "Water."

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