3 Chapter 3: SOMETHING NEW

"We have a fishermen's stew which has whitefish, white beans within a tomato stock. We have a Portuguese chicken which is mildly spicy, has rice, cheese and stewed in a tomato stock-"

Tory watched the young woman intently as she rattled off the popular items. "But what do YOU like?"

The waitress paused and allowed her eyes to linger on Tory. She smiled in a more relaxed manner. "My favorite dish is definitely sopa de couves."

Tory was nodding her head. She had no idea what that was. "I'll have that please."

The waitress gave her one nod. "And to drink?"

Tory passed her menu to the waitress. "I'll let you decide."

The woman retreated with the menu and Tory took in her surroundings in more detail, admiring the mural on the wall of an Island with palm trees and people looking suntanned and happy. Soft music played something that sounded like a strange jazz and Spanish fusion. The room was painted in vibrant tones and colorful pieces of art dotted the walls. It was trendy yet comfortable. There was even a bar that looked like a tiki hut-

Tory froze, heartbeat lurching in a jolt of surprise. Her eyes scanned the familiar profile, the short hair with the promise of curls, the tanned skin and the light brown eyes. It was the cutie from the bus! He was enjoying a meal at the bar and he was alone, too. Tory felt a warm flush of excitement. Imagine that...

As she sat staring at him from across the room, a woman approached him. Ahh, so he was waiting for his woman. He'd started eating without her but she didn't look like she ate anyways. Tory wasn't surprised to see that his woman had a body that should dance in rap videos and a face that would rival Halle Berry's. So he liked black women? Well who would care about race when your woman looked like that!

The woman took the stool next to him and began talking. He began shaking his head and said a few words before turning back to his dinner in a dismissive gesture. The woman's face fell in disbelief. Tory didn't need to be near enough to hear the exchange. It was clear that the she had been shot down! The woman continued to look at him in disbelief as he continued eating his dinner, ignoring her. Finally she jumped up and stalked away, leaving behind a trail of curses.

Yikes...Tory would never act like that if she were shot down--not that it would ever happen since she never put herself out there like that. She couldn't stop smiling. It felt good knowing that while Tory didn't have a chance with the cutie, neither did miss Halle Berry!

Her order came and sopa de couves turned out to be stew that was filled with potato, collard greens, beef and red beans. There was a slight bite to it that she loved. Partnered with crusty bread and fresh squeezed lemonade and Tory was in culinary heaven.

The waitress returned to freshen her drink. "How is everything?"

"You were right. This is really good."

"I'll bring you the next dish."

Next? But the waitress whisked away in a flourish of colorful cloth, body thick but sensual.

She finished her soup and then a plate of clams was set before her. Mmmm, smothered in a garlic butter sauce. Slices of bread dipped into the sauce. Tory looked up at the waitress in appreciation.

"Lapas." And her voice had a ta da, quality to it. "I hope you like clams."

"I love clams." The waitress smiled.

"I will bring your desert." Tory hadn't ordered desert in a year. But she would eat it, and then maybe curl up into a little ball of guilt later that night. Tory picked up the first clam and dug out the tender flesh. Perfectly cooked. As she ate, periodically she would peek up at the man from the bus. He was currently sipping coffee and seemed satisfied to sit quietly, showing no interest in the game on the big screen television or any of the other diners at the bar.

Tory fantasized at what she'd say if he turned around and saw her. Would he even remember her? She was still thinking these thoughts as she ate the pastry that the waitress set before her. When the meal was over Tory left a hefty tip. The waitress' eyes brightened. "Thank you so much!"

"No, thank you. That was an experience. So this is Portuguese food." It was more of a question then a statement.

"Well, actually Azores. There is a big difference. You should come back." She liked the waitress' accent.

"I will." Tory stood and gave the man at the bar one last look. He was sitting at the bar quietly and very still. Hmmm, if she weren't such a chicken she would go up and tell him hello. He looked like he could use someone to talk to. Instead she hurried out of the restaurant, glancing at her watch. It was dark and she was tired and her bus stop was several blocks away.

She walked to the bus stop as fast as she could; thinking that walking alone in an unfamiliar neighborhood especially at night was a pretty ill conceived idea. Next time, she'd be smart and call a cab.

She found her mind wandering back to the guy from the bus. Maybe he was Portuguese and this must be his neighborhood. That made perfect sense. It would be the bus stop prior to reaching hers. She wondered how often he ate here. Perhaps she would become very familiar with this place.

That night Tory drew a bath and soaked a week's worth of stress from her body. She put in her favorite oil from THE AFRICAN SPA and then after her bath she lotioned her skin until it felt like spun silk.

Tory felt as if there was very little about herself that she could be proud of, but she knew her complexion was perfect. How many times had she heard, 'You have such a pretty face?' It didn't take her long to realize that this was the only thing about herself that was pretty.

She brushed her shoulder length hair and then quickly rolled it. After brushing her teeth she sank into bed and fantasized about the man on the bus.