Touché.
"Is there a problem here?" Duke asked, glaring at her.
"No, what would give you that impression?" she said. She plastered a large smile on her face like spackle on cinder blocks.
"Sally, you've been nothing but rude to my date. My, uh wife. I think you owe Madison an apology."
"Sorry then," she shouted. Then turned on her heels and walked away in a huff.
I didn’t bat an eye at Duke calling me his wife. I was starving and couldn’t care less about a rude waitress, we’d all been there and had our days, especially in customer service.
I watched as Duke dressed his burger as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred before I took a bite and groaned. Fine, we were going to eat and ignore. I’d deflected with food before. I knew that song and dance by heart.
"These burgers are the best. Nothing in the world can beat them."
He opened his eyes and caught mine, and I felt like no burger on the planet could be as satisfying as watching this man eat his. "You, not gonna eat?"
"Yes, sorry," I said. “Every last bite of it. I just wanted you to go first to make sure she didn’t poison it.”
It was his turn to choke. I handed him the pitcher of water.
"You are something else, Maddy. You know that?"
"So, how did you get into tattooing? Prison?"
I might have talked with my mouth full.
"I was a wandering fool in my youth. Got into some trouble, dropped out of high school, and left town like I told you. Around ten years ago, I got my GED and rediscovered my love of art. I’d passed the time drawing as a kid, but I kind of rediscovered it as an adult. Since painting and drawing couldn't pay the bills, I took a job as an apprentice at an ink shop in New York City. Busted my ass, lived in a one-bedroom apartment with three other people and saved as much as I could. Then I came back and worked for my parents for a few years before opening up the shop with Ozzie, my best friend."
He leaned back in the booth and took a sip of his soda, eyes still fixed on me. "Nothing' too impressive, just a regular guy putting his life back together after he fucked it all up."
“What’s the genre?”
“What do you mean?”
“You do like classic, or anime, or like biker shit or what? Is the stuff on your arms your own work?”
He was chewing and put up a finger. I took another bite.
“I do everything, but classic is my jam, hard contour lines, seventies biker style. I can’t get enough of that shit.”
“I like the birds. Are they swallows? Anyway, they draw me right in. Do they mean anything to you?”
“Sparrows? The humble, but mighty sparrow: love, freedom, and commitment. It’s how I aspire to live my life.”
I liked that aspirational goal and I felt the same way about my own life. I remembered from Gran’s birder days that sparrows mate for life. Somehow the idea was sad and beautiful at the same time. I didn’t want to be a buzz kill so I concentrated on my burger.
"I really wonder what they put in their beef patty to make them so freakin' good." I was savoring the flavor, not noticing the blob of ketchup that had landed right on my right breast. "Gah, This is why you can’t take me anywhere. I'm not one of those girls who can be perfect. I don’t even know if I’ll ever make it in the corporate sector. I’m like a serious fuck up, myself, Duke. You’re not alone in that self-assessment."
Duke took a fry and dipped it in the glob on my boob. He ate it with a smile and handed me his napkin after he’d dipped it in his water. Mine was already shredded in my lap from the sheer power of nervousness.
He leaned over, reached across the table, and with the pads of his fingers, removed the excess sauce from the corner of my lips. "From where I'm standing, you look pretty fucking perfect."
"You're awfully forgiving, Mr. Miller," I said. A big smile, of its own accord, appeared on my lips.
"I bend over backwards to please my employees, Madison. Especially the employees I’m married to.”
I giggled and took a sip of my malted to cool both fires that were building inside me.
When we finished, Duke paid, and I didn’t put up a fuss. We walked out into the chill of early evening and I pulled my sweater tight around my shoulders.
"I'll take you home," he said, closing the door behind us.
"It's ok. I think I've monopolized your time long enough. We’re gonna get sued for nepotism and fraternizing on the company cock. I mean, CLOCK!" I planted my face in my palms and felt the burn flush my face.