He Thought I Was Charming, Then I Found Out Who He Really Was novel · Chapter 3 of 3
Chapter 3: The Taverna Job
Alex begins his first shift at Kostas's taverna, survives a spilled tray, wins over the regulars, answers a tourist's insult about his watch, and later sits alone at the dock while Sophia decides to investigate him.
Kyria Marika hands me a stained apron and points at the dining room. ‘Don’t drop anything, or I’ll make you swim back to wherever you came from.’
‘That seems harsh for a first day. At least let me finish lunch.’
‘You are here to work, Alex. The customers are not here to admire your teeth.’
‘Then I have been misinformed about the hospitality industry.’
The old fisherman at the nearest table laughs into his coffee.
I tie the apron and take the order pad she throws at me. One table wants iced coffee, lemonade, grilled octopus, tomatoes without onions, and fries for a child trying to climb his chair.
‘The fries first,’ the mother says. ‘He has to eat before I return to the clinic.’
‘A serious medical case,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll alert the kitchen.’
She laughs. The child stops climbing long enough to point at me.
‘Are you really broke?’ he asks.
‘Terribly. I may have to share dessert.’
Marika sends me to three more tables. I remember the orders after hearing them once. Yannis wants coffee without sugar. Elpida wants water without ice. The little boy is Theo, and his mother is Anna.
When I use both names, Anna looks at me over her shoulder.
‘You have worked tables before,’ Marika says.
‘Once.’
‘Where?’
‘A demanding family establishment.’
‘Was it a taverna?’
‘There was food, noise, and unpaid criticism. Very similar.’
She takes the pad back. ‘Wash glasses after lunch. Sweep the terrace. Do not touch the till. Do not flirt with customers.’
‘What if they flirt with me?’
‘Then suffer in silence.’
Across the road, the clinic window is open.
Sophia stands behind it with a file in her hand. Her eyes move between the pages and the taverna. She does not turn her head when I look over.
Marika shouts three orders from the kitchen. I carry the tray toward table six.
A tourist in a red shirt steps backward to photograph the harbor. His shoulder hits mine. My taped hand twists, and the tray drops.
Three glasses break. Two bottles roll under a chair. The bowl of olives lands in a woman’s lap.
The taverna goes still.
Marika closes her eyes.
The tourist looks at me. ‘You should watch where you’re going.’
‘Absolutely. I’ll add it to my list of professional goals.’
Theo points at the olives on the woman’s dress.
‘You killed them.’
‘They knew the risks when they joined the tray.’
Theo laughs so hard Anna catches his arm.
The woman demands a new dress. The tourist complains about his shoes. Marika tells me to leave the glass and fetch a broom.
Yannis pushes his chair back to make room. Elpida lifts her handbag from the floor before I can step around it. A visiting couple watches me kneel among the shards, and the man whispers that seasonal workers should be trained before being placed near tourists.
The answer sits ready in my mouth.
I keep it there.
‘The shoes will survive,’ I tell the tourist. ‘They look financially stable.’
Yannis starts laughing. Elpida joins him. The woman with the olives covers her face, though I can see her shoulders moving.
The tourist studies my clothes, then the apron, then the watch beneath my sleeve.
‘Broke waiter,’ he says. ‘Nice watch.’
His hand reaches for my wrist. I move before he touches me and stand with a shard of glass between my fingers.
‘Careful. It belonged to my grandfather.’
The lie is close enough to truth to hurt.
‘Your grandfather was a waiter too?’
‘No. He had a better job.’
‘Then he must have left you more than that cheap thing.’
The tourist taps the watch with one finger. The Vassilis crest stays hidden beneath my cuff.
Marika comes out of the kitchen holding a wooden spoon. ‘You insult my staff again, and you eat somewhere else.’
‘He broke the tray,’ the tourist says.
‘You walked into him,’ Yannis replies.
‘He should learn his place.’
Elpida sets her glass down. ‘His place is standing between you and the door.’
The tourist looks around for support. He finds none.
The couple who had whispered about training now stare at the floor. Theo takes an olive from his mother’s dress and drops it into the tourist’s empty beer glass.
‘For your shoes,’ he says.
The tourist flushes. Marika points toward the road.
‘Go.’
He leaves without another word. His companion follows after throwing a napkin onto the table.
Yannis pats the chair beside him. ‘Sit down before you break something else.’
‘I’m working.’
‘You are cleaning one glass. That is not a career.’
I sweep the shards into a pan. Through the open end of the taverna, I see the resort site beyond the white houses. Excavators stand beside the stripped hillside.
The place belongs to my family on paper.
The guilt shows before I can stop it.
Across the road, Sophia sees it.
She writes something in the margin of her file.
The rest of the shift fills with small tests. Marika sends me to scrub the terrace while the other waiter takes orders. She gives me the cracked water jug and keeps the new one for a table of hotel guests. When I ask where to put the clean glasses, she points to a shelf and says, ‘You can learn by watching.’
I learn by watching.
I learn which customers tip, which ones complain, and which locals have stopped speaking when the Vassilis name appears on the news.
Sophia watches from the clinic until the last patient leaves. She sees me remember every order, every name, and every preference after one pass.
She does not know I remember the names of everyone I meet.
That has always been useful.
By closing, my hand aches beneath the tape. Marika counts the till while I wipe tables. She gives the other waiter a plate of lamb and hands me a heel of bread wrapped in paper.
‘Eat outside,’ she says. ‘You smell of broken glass.’
‘A useful defense against customers.’
‘You will be here at seven.’
‘I’ll bring my best apron.’
‘Bring your hands.’
The clinic door shuts across the road. Sophia leaves with her bag and walks past the taverna without looking in.
I watch her go.
The water beyond the harbor is dark by the time I sit on the dock. My sandals rest beside me. The borrowed shirt sticks to my back, and the taped hand lies on my knee.
For once, nobody asks me to smile.
The construction site has vanished into the night. I can still see its shape in my head, every cut in the hillside, every place the villas will stand if I fail.
A gull lands near the ropes and watches me. I offer it the last piece of bread. It takes the bread and leaves.
‘At least you have a business plan,’ I tell it.
Footsteps pass on the road above the harbor, then fade.
Sophia walks by the taverna and sees me alone on the dock, staring at the water.
He's hiding something. And I'm going to find out what it is.
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