Chapter 17
The morning sun streamed through the thin curtains, casting a
golden glow across the small room. Noelle stirred, blinking
against the light as she slowly sat up. For a moment, she forgot
where she was, but as her eyes adjusted, the reality of her
newfound freedom settled in.
She was here. She was safe. And she had to find a way to
survive.
After a quick shower, she dressed in the simplest outfit she had
-a plain blouse and jeans. It wasn’t anything remarkable, but
she needed to be practical. Tugging her dark hair into a loose
ponytail, she grabbed her small purse and stepped out of the
room, locking it behind her.
Downstairs, the innkeeper, who had introduced herself as Mrs.
Ellis the night before, was wiping down the counter when she
noticed Noelle approaching.
“Good morning, dear. Slept well?” the older woman asked with a
kind smile.
“Yes, thank you,” Noelle replied politely.
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Mrs. Ellis studied her for a moment before nodding toward the
door. “Heading out?”
“I need to find a job,” Noelle admitted, adjusting the strap of her
purse. “I can’t afford to stay here long without one.””
The woman hummed in thought before setting down the cloth
she was holding. “Well, if you’re looking for something quick,
you might want to check with the local shops. A few places
downtown are always looking for an extra pair of hands,
especially the restaurant down the street and the bookstore
near the square.”
Noelle’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. A restaurant or a
bookstore. Either one would be a good start–steady work,
something simple, something that wouldn’t draw too much
attention.
“That’s really helpful. Thank you,” she said sincerely.
Mrs. Ellis waved her off. “Don’t mention it. Just make sure you
eat something before you go running around. The bakery next
door makes a fine breakfast,”
Noelle smiled faintly and nodded before stepping outside.
The town was already alive, though it remained quiet compared
to the bustling city she had left behind. The scent of freshly
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baked bread wafted through the air mixed with the faint aroma
of coffee from a shop down the street. Noelle inhaled deeply,
letting herself enjoy the small moment before she focused on
her goal.
Noelle set off and made her way toward the restaurant Mrs.
Ellis had mentioned. It was a small, charming place with an
outdoor seating area lined with potted plants. Through the large
windows, she could see a few customers already sipping their
morning coffee, and behind the counter, a young woman was
preparing drinks.
Noelle pushed open the door and the soft chime of the bell
announced her presence.
A man, likely in his mid–40s with salt–and–pepper hair, was
wiping down a nearby table. He looked up at the sound and
offered a welcoming smile.
“Looking for lunch?” he asked, setting the cloth down.
Noelle hesitated for only a moment before shaking her head.
“Actually, I was wondering if you’re hiring.”
The man raised a brow, giving her a quick once–over. “Depends.
You got experience?”
Noelle bit the inside of her cheek. She had never worked as a
Chapter 17
waitress before, but running a flower shop had taught her how
to handle customers.
“I can learn quickly,” she said, meeting his gaze. “And I won’t
cause trouble.”
The man studied her for a moment longer before sighing. “We
could use an extra set of hands during the lunch rush. Name’s
Peter. My wife, Evelyn, and I run this place. If you can handle
taking orders, serving food, and keeping the tables clean, you’ve
got yourself a job.”
Relief washed over Noelle, and she nodded. “I can do that.””
“Good,” Peter said, tossing her a spare apron from a nearby shelf.
“You start now.””
Noelle barely had time to steady herself before Peter gestured
toward the front counter. “Evelyn will show you the ropes. Just
stick close and don’t spill anything.” His tone was gruff but not
unkind, and she quickly nodded, slipping the apron over her
head.
A womanstanding behind the counter in her mid–40s, with
warm brown eyes and dark curls pinned back, was assembling a plate of pasta. She looked up as Noelle approached, giving her
a quick once–over before smiling.
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“So, you’re the new girl?” Evelyn asked, setting the plate on a
tray. “You worked in a restaurant before?”
“No, but I ran a flower shop,” Noelle admitted. “I know how to
deal with customers.”
Evelyn hummed in approval. “Good. That’s the most important part. The rest? You’ll pick up as you go.” She gestured toward the notepad on the counter. “For now, just shadow me. Watch how I take orders, how we call them out, and how we serve. When you’re ready, I’ll let you try.”
Noelle nodded, slipping into place beside her.
The restaurant was busier than she had expected. Customers streamed in steadily, some ordering hearty meals, others opting for a quick bite. Evelyn moved with ease, calling out orders while Peter worked in the kitchen. Noelle paid close attention, memorizing the menu, the way orders were written, and how Evelyn balanced multiple tasks at once without missing a beat.
Then, without warning, Evelyn handed her the notepad. “Alright, your turn.”
Noelle blinked. “Already?”
“You won’t learn by just watching” Evelyn said with a knowing
smile. “Go on, take the next table.”
Chapter 17
Į
Noelle swallowed, straightened her shoulders, and approached
a couple seated near the window.
The man glanced up from his menu. “We’ll have the roasted
chicken with mashed potatoes and a side of steamed vegetables.
And a seafood pasta for her.”
Noelle quickly wrote it down. “Would you like anything to
drink?”
“Just water,” the woman said, offering a small smile.
Noelle nodded, repeating the order back before making her way
to the kitchen. She clipped the paper onto the order line,
glancing back at Evelyn, who gave her an approving nod.
As the afternoon passed, Noelle got used to the rhythm of the
restaurant, learning to balance trays, take multiple orders, and
move through the bustling floor without stumbling. It was
tiring but strangely satisfying. The scent of grilled food, the
clinking of plates, the hum of conversation–it was a different
kind of life than she was used to.
By the time the lunch rush ended, Peter clapped her on the
shoulder as she passed by. “You’re not half–bad, kid. Think you’ll
stick around?”
Noelle smiled faintly, wiping her hands on her apron. “I think I
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just might.”
Chapter 18
