It was the third time she'd found herself eating lunch at Charger House that week. She was seated in the corner booth of the long time running restaurant, facing the kitchen. It was a favorite among the locals with its white siding and porch like front entry, giving way to a dated, but tastefully decorated interior. The 70's wood paneled walls were covered in vintage tin signs advertising an ice cold Coke for a quarter and various treats from previous decades. Booths with worn out cushions lined the outer wall of the rectangular shaped restaurant while tables scattered the rest of the room, each fitted with four chairs. A small salad bar sat perpendicular to the kitchen that ran the length of the room, separating the two with a chest high counter decorated in Christmas lights.<br/><br/>Everyone came for the fish, and that was exactly what she ordered. She wanted the fish sandwich minus the bun, (they gave three pieces instead of two if you ordered it that way) and an order of fries with a bowl of apple sauce and a second bowl of cottage cheese. They had the best tartar sauce in town and she made sure to double up on it. Her favorite time to come in was after the breakfast rush, when all of the old farmers had finished their eighth cup of decaf and headed out. Most of the patrons were church going elderlies and she always felt out of place, but she loved that fish.<br/><br/>Her frequent visits lately weren't for the fish, though. She had her eye on a cook who dashed back and forth in the kitchen, seeming to run everything on his own while the gaggle of waitresses handled the floor. She was still relatively new in town and learned that the man as the owner's son and was in the process of taking over the restaurant. He was in his early 30's, something that scared her due to the fact that she was almost ten years younger, and recently divorced. She didn't figure he was back in the dating game yet, but nothing said she couldn't check him out. She doubted she'd ever have the nerve to talk to him outside of paying for her bill, but perhaps she could find a way to cross paths with him.<br/><br/>Every so often he'd look out into the room and she'd catch his eye. He would offer her a quaint smile, the kind you gave when you passed someone on the street, and then return his gaze to the grill, refocusing on the orders that piled up on the spool. She finished half of her meal and got up to use the restroom. She'd spilled a bit of coffee on her fingers while trying to slide the too full cup across the table and felt the urgent need to wash her hands. She noticed him watch her walk towards the back hall and then she disappeared around the corner.<br/><br/>She tried the door but it was locked, so she stood back against the wall and waited, listening to the peaceful drum of voices drifting in from the dining room. Out the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow approaching and looked up to see the handsome cook come around the corner. He excused himself as he went by, asking her how she was, before he slipped into the men's room. She could hardly utter a reply as she blushed. A woman emerged from the bathroom and held the door for her as she stepped inside. She took her time washing her hands and staring into her reflection on the water spotted mirror. Her copper colored hair hung long down her back in waves and her bangs swooped over her hazel eyes. Freckles kissed the bridge of her nose and dusted her pale cheeks. She pursed her pink lips as she washed off the soap from her hands, eyeing the way the black hoop ring protruded around the corner of her lower lip.<br/><br/>After recovering from her close encounter with the cook and drying her hands, she reached for the door handle and took a deep breath. "You've got this, Dani. Don't be a chicken shit," she whispered to herself as she pulled open the door. On the other side, she found the cook standing to her right, back up against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, and a daring smile on his cherubic face.<br/><br/><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000">(Would anyone be interested in playing the cook? Im hoping to go with a mixture of non con and con, here. Something like where he takes notice of her interest and decides to approach her about it, perhaps misunderstanding her good hearted intentions for a sexual one. Maybe he tries to make a sudden move on her, not realizing she wasn't trying to get in his pants and doesn't understand when she starts to freak out. But he's so cunning and wise that realizes the opportunity God plopped in his lap. He's got the perfect ball of virgin clay sitting in front of him and he can make her into anything he wants by showing her all of the ropes. Do you follow me? Check out my request thread below to read up  on this plot or slide into my DMs with questions.)</span></b>