Bachelor Number Five (The Bachelor Series, Volume 1) (6 page)

Maybe she was a fool for coming here to Los Angeles at all.  She didn’t really think she would meet the actual Bachelor Number Five, did she?  Amanda had moved because there seemed to be no future for her in Quincy, Iowa.  Here in L.A. at least there were men her age besides the same old mix she’d known since childhood.  There was the opportunity to make something of herself.  Perhaps she felt a little bit lonely right now, but she’d only just arrived.  Amanda needed to give it some time and everything would work out.  She’d get a job and meet a man and acclimate herself to this brand new life.  And if she did run into Bachelor Number Five along the way?  Well, that would just be a bonus, but there was nothing wrong with stacking the deck a little bit in her favor.  Amanda pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time.  It was 10:45 in the morning.  If she made her way across town, by the time she’d found a parking space and walked to the restaurant it would be just about time for an early lunch.

From the outside, The Hamburger Hut didn’t look like much.  The building itself was a small, converted one-story house, the only structure on the block that wasn’t purpose-built for commercial use; a throwback to simpler times, perhaps.  The place did have some character, Amanda decided, though it was in need of a paint job.  A small yard out front held eight tables, half of them occupied.  A short set of stairs led up to a covered porch with a few more tables.  Amanda made her way up past them and on inside what must have once been the house’s living room but was now the restaurant’s main dining room.  She took a quick look around.  Grant was nowhere in sight.  Amanda tried to contain her apprehension.  Surely everyone in the place would recognize her true intentions.  They would have to realize that she wasn’t there just for lunch.  All by herself at a sit down restaurant?  That was nearly as embarrassing as the truth.  And what if she
did
see Grant?  What would she say to him?  That his true love was finally here?  Amanda fought the urge to simply turn and run.

“Can I help you?”  A bright and cheery hostess stood behind a small pedestal.

“Um…” Amanda froze.

“Would you like a table?” the hostess asked.

“All right.”

“For one?”

“Yes, please.”  Amanda gazed down toward her feet, trying to hide her shame.

“Inside or out?”

Looking back up to take in her options, Amanda did a quick calculation.  If she sat outside and Grant was working the dining room, she might never spot him.  From the porch she could see the yard, the rest of the porch and through the window to the inside.  It was her best bet.  “Can I sit on the porch?”

“Sure, no problem.”  The hostess picked up a single menu.  “Follow me.”

When she’d settled in at her table, Amanda watched through the window as two servers moved in and out from a kitchen in the back.  Neither was Bachelor Number Five.  One was a slight Hispanic male with an antic air who darted up and back from the tables in the yard carrying plates on a serving tray.  The other was a more measured black woman about Amanda’s age who was working the dining room.  They seemed to be the only two on duty.  Amanda felt an unexpected wave of relief at not seeing Grant.  She didn’t have to be afraid anymore.  The rest of her life was not going to hinge on this one moment after all.  Yet how many times would she have to come back here, all alone, to finally catch him?  And what if he didn’t work here anymore at all?  She’d still apply for a job either way.  She needed to survive.

Amanda opened her menu and quickly perused it.  Twelve dollars for a hamburger?!  It was twice as much as Lucy’s diner for the same exact thing.  With a drink, tax and tip, Amanda could hardly afford this place.  She eyed an escape route across the porch and through the yard and was just about to flee when the waiter appeared before her.

“Can I take your order?” he asked, notepad in hand.

“Uh…” Amanda looked back to her menu.  “Do you have a small salad?”

“Sure.  A house salad?”

“Yes, please.  With vinaigrette dressing?”

“You got it.  Anything else?”

“No.”  Amanda closed her menu and held it out.

“I’ll bring you some water.”  The waiter took the menu and darted back inside.  At least the service was good.  While she waited for her salad, Amanda took a better measure of the other customers in the place.  The crowd was a mix of ages and types.  Some sported tattoos and body piercings.  Others appeared to be on break from nearby office jobs.  One couple in their 20’s looked like they were dressed for life on the prairie in the 18th century, with hand-made clothing.  The woman was devoid of any makeup while the man sported a long, bushy beard.  Were they in a movie?  Or was this some “new” style?  Perhaps they were Amish, on vacation?

The waiter swept past Amanda’s table, dropping off a glass of water as he went.  She would have to ask him, Amanda decided, if Grant Hutchinson did actually work here.  She spent five minutes working up the courage before the waiter came back with her order.

“One house salad.  Is there anything else I can get you?” he said.

“Actually…” Amanda paused while the waiter stood where he was, waiting expectantly.  “Some bread?” said Amanda.

“Coming right up.”  The waiter whisked himself away and back inside.  Amanda furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, feeling like the coward that she was.  Why couldn’t she be more like Piper? 
She
wouldn’t be afraid of some little waiter in some little hamburger joint like this.  Piper had confidence.  Too much sometimes.  Then again, it was Amanda who had made the move halfway across the country all by herself, with no job and no friends to fall back on.  It was Amanda who was sitting here, chasing her dream, however demented it might be.

When the waiter reappeared with a small basket of bread, this time Amanda simply blurted it out.  “Can you tell me, does Grant Hutchinson still work here?”

The waiter perked up at the name, his eyes opening a little wider as he examined his customer anew.  “No.  He does not.  Why?  Do you know him?”  The skepticism was evident.

“Just a little bit,” said Amanda.  “We went to high school together.”

“In Kentucky?”

“No,” Amanda tilted her head to one side.  Was he testing her?  “In Houston.”

“Houston, that’s right,” said the waiter.  “I get mixed up.  No, Grant hasn’t worked here in six months.”

“Oh.”  Amanda’s heart sank.  “I guess his business must have finally taken off, huh?”

“What business?”  The waiter seemed slightly puzzled.

“His technology business.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

“Huh…”

“It’s funny, you don’t sound like you come from Texas.”

“We moved around a lot.  Army brat, you know.”

The waiter nodded his head slowly.  “I thought maybe you were one of those fan girls.”

“What fan girls?”

“The ones who saw him on that wedding show.”

“Oh, right, I heard about that.  Do a lot of girls come here looking for him?”

“Enough that I’m getting used to it.”  The waiter put the bread basket on the table.

“Thanks.”

“If you need anything else, let me know.”

“I wouldn’t mind a job, actually, if you guys are hiring.”

“I’ll bring you an application.  I don’t think we need anyone right now, but you never know.”

“All right.  I’ll fill out an application just in case.  You can bring my check, too, when you have a chance.”

After name and address,
school
was the very next piece of information that the application requested.  If Amanda answered honestly, this nosy waiter was bound to realize she’d been lying.  Then again, he probably already knew.  Amanda wrote out Quincy High School, Quincy Iowa.  She added her work experience and put down Lucy and Piper as references.  She didn’t expect much but Amanda needed a job, and quickly, if she was going to pay the rent at the end of the month.  One thing about a big city like this, there were plenty of other places to apply.  For the time being perhaps it was best to put her search for Bachelor Number Five on hold.

Chapter Eight

“Hey roomie, we’re ordering pizza if you want some,” said Lauren.

Amanda walked into the apartment to find her roommate sitting with Darren at the kitchen table.  Darren held a restaurant flier in one hand.

“Pizza sounds terrific,” Amanda replied.  After a long afternoon on the job trail, cooking was the last thing she felt like doing.

“What do you want on it?”  Lauren snatched the flier from Darren’s hands.

“Anything but anchovies,” said Amanda.

“Who eats anchovies?” Darren lifted a bottle of beer from the table and took a swig.

“Some people must eat them,” said Lauren.  “Why else do they have them on the menu?”

“Beats the heck out of me.”

Amanda moved into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

“Should I see if Aaron wants some?” said Lauren.

“I don’t care, as long as there’s enough!” Darren answered.

Lauren rose to her feet walked to the front door, taking a step outside before shouting, “Hey Aaron!  You want pizza?!”

“Yeah, man!” came the muffled response.

Lauren walked back into the room.  “He wants pizza.”  She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed.

“Who is Aaron?” Amanda asked.

“He’s
my
roommate,” said Darren.

“Hi, I’d like to place an order,” said Lauren.

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Amanda.

“Yeah, one large pepperoni and one large Santa Fe,” said Lauren into the phone.

“That’s not enough!” said Darren.  “What if Markus comes over?”

“And a medium veggie supreme,” Lauren added as she glared back at her boyfriend.

Amanda moved on into bathroom and closed the door behind her.  A shower was just what she needed to wash away the stress and strain of her day.  After that, some pizza, and hopefully her new friends wouldn’t mind turning on the television for the one show Amanda had to see each week.  It was that time once again; the one day when she was sure to spot her quarry, on air anyway.  It was time to check in on Bachelor Number Five.

When she came back into the living room, showered and fresh, two guys Amanda didn’t recognize were sitting on the couch.  One wore baggy jeans and a loose red T-shirt that matched his curly red hair.  The other was dressed in brown slacks and a blue collared shirt.  “Hello,” Amanda said.

“There she is.  This is my new roomie,” said Lauren.  “Amanda.”

Amanda raised a hand and waved.

“This is Aaron and Markus.  Aaron lives next door with Darren.”

The redhead raised his hand.  He looked like a skater-type kid, confident in the way he leaned back on the couch, with his arms stretched across the cushions.  He was a few years younger than the rest of them and wore large high-top shoes on his feet, unlaced.

“I live downstairs.  Apartment number two,” said Markus.  He sat upright, with a more formal posture.  He was cute, Amanda thought, and by far the more respectable-looking of the two.  A prospect, perhaps?  She’d have plenty of time to find out.

“We’re all fairly social around here,” said Lauren.  “If you hadn’t noticed.”

“Incestuous you might say,” said Markus.

“I guess that doesn’t include Peter?” Amanda asked.

“Oooo, what does she know about Peter?!” said Markus.

“Nothing!” Lauren cut him off.  “And she doesn’t need to.  Let’s forget all about that, shall we?”

“Yeah, right,” said Aaron with a snicker.

“I saw him last night at the sandwich shop on the corner.  He seemed nice.”

“No!  Not nice!  Not nice at all!” said Lauren.

The bell rang and all heads turned to the pizza delivery man standing in the doorway.  “You ordered some pizzas?”

“We did,” said Lauren.

 “But I still don’t think you ordered enough,” said Darren. 

“There’s no such thing as enough for you, Darren.”  Lauren walked to the doorway and pulled out her wallet.  “How much is it?”

The delivery man took three pizza boxes out of an insulated warmer and read a slip that was taped to the top.  “Forty-four seventy-five.”

“I got this,” said Darren, moving across the room.

“No, we’ll kick in.  Ten bucks each, right?” said Markus.

When the bill was sorted, Darren put the boxes on the kitchen table and opened the one on top to reveal a steaming hot pepperoni pizza.  “That’s what I’m talking about!” he said, reaching for a slice.  The guys from the couch came over and dove right in behind.

“Come on, let’s be civilized and actually use some plates!”  Lauren opened a kitchen cabinet.

“If that’s the price I gotta pay…” said Darren.

“It is.”  Lauren pulled down a stack of plates and handed them around.  When the boys had their slices she arranged the boxes, two on the counter and one on the table so that all of the lids were open.