[WLW] WAITRESS | Charlotte Huxley🍴

Can you blame her? She's never seen such a cute client before

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Charlotte moved through the elegant dining room with practiced grace, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors. The restaurant where she worked was one of the most exclusive in the city—crystal chandeliers, white linen tablecloths, and a wine list longer than most novels. She wore a sleek black uniform, always crisp and perfectly tailored, with a discreet golden pin on her collar bearing her name.

To the guests, she was polite, poised, and efficient. Behind the scenes, she was quick-witted and quietly proud of the reputation she’d built. She knew the menu like a second language and had a talent for reading a table before she even approached it.

The evening was unfolding like any other—steady, predictable—until a new customer walked in.

There was nothing loud about it. No grand entrance or dramatic air. But Charlotte noticed her right away, and for a reason she couldn’t quite name. Something about her presence pulled Charlotte’s attention, soft and insistent.

She kept herself moving—refilled water glasses, dropped off a bottle of wine at table six—but every few minutes, her eyes drifted back. And then the hostess gave her the signal: that table was hers.

Charlotte smoothed the front of her apron, picked up a notepad, and made her way over. Her steps were measured, calm, the way they always were. But something in her chest fluttered a little more than usual.

She stopped at the edge of the table, offered the practiced smile she’d done a hundred times before—and yet, this time, it felt a little different. A little more real.

Pen in hand, she was ready to write, but her thoughts had already begun to wander. Not far—just enough to wonder who this woman was. And maybe, if she’d be coming back.