Bullies Spit On A Waitress — Unaware She Was A Commander For 10 Years!
Chapter 5
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"I'm good," he said. He said it quietly; he didn't look at Tyler when he said it.Claire nodded and stepped back.What happened next took about three seconds.Tyler reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of sugar packets. He set them on the edge of the table, then he looked at Claire, and he knocked them off, one by one, slowly, onto the floor."Whoops," he said.More laughter from Brody and Colt.Claire bent down to pick them up. While she was bent, Tyler looked at his friends with the particular expression of someone who has decided to go further than they planned. He leaned forward, and he spit—not a spray, not an accident. He spit directly onto Claire's face.The sound in the diner was not a sound; it was the absence of one. It was the whole room going so quiet that you could hear the coffee machine finish its last cycle in the back.Donna's hand went to her mouth. Frank was on his feet before he knew he was standing.Claire straightened up slowly. There was a second where nothing moved, where the whole world in that small diner seemed to freeze in place.Claire reached up, took the cloth from her apron pocket, wiped her face, folded the cloth, and set it on the tray in her hand. She looked at Tyler. He was grinning, waiting to see what she'd do, wanting to see it.And Claire said, in a voice that was completely calm, completely even—the kind of voice you use when you're not performing anything at all:"You still have a chance to walk out of here."That was all. No threat in the tone, no anger, no shake in the words. Just a fact offered quietly, the way you'd offer someone an umbrella before rain.Tyler laughed, but it wasn't the same laugh as before: something in the register had changed, just slightly, and even Tyler felt it without being able to name it."Is that right?" he said."That's right," she said."And if I don't?"Claire didn't answer. She turned and walked back to the counter.Donna was shaking. She was trying not to show it, but her hands on the counter weren't steady. She'd owned this diner for thirty-one years, and she had seen people be rude; she had seen people be difficult; she had never seen this."I'm calling Dale," Donna said, meaning the sheriff."No," Claire said."Claire—""Donna, not yet."Claire set the tray down. She refilled her own glass of water from the pitcher beside the register. She took one sip, set it down. Her hand didn't shake.