Working Girl - Working Class - First Chapter

Rachel Baldwin wiped her hands on her apron as she scanned the diner, making sure her tables were satisfied before slipping into the kitchen for a moment of reprieve. The steady hum of the coffee machine and the clatter of dishes in the background filled the space, the familiar sounds of her daily grind. The scent of sizzling bacon and fresh pancakes wafted through the air, mixing with the faint aroma of coffee—a comforting yet relentless reminder of the long day ahead.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the small mirror by the swinging kitchen door, her brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, a few stubborn strands escaping to frame her tired face. There were dark circles under her eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights spent studying after putting her daughter, Natalie, to bed. Rachel sighed and adjusted her apron, the weariness etched in her features softened by the thought of Natalie—her ten-year-old daughter, the light of her life, and the reason she pushed herself so hard.

Natalie was everything to her, the one bright spot in a life that had seen more than its fair share of struggles. Rachel’s ex-husband had walked out shortly after Natalie was born, disappointed that their child was a girl and not the son he’d always dreamed of. The memory still stung, a sharp reminder of the pain she had buried deep within. But Rachel had long since learned to bury the pain, focusing instead on giving her daughter the best life possible. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer, a small ritual that grounded her, asking for strength to get through this day.

As she stepped back into the diner, Rachel’s eyes swept the room, noting the steady flow of customers coming in for their morning fix. The place was busier than usual for a weekday, but she didn’t mind. More customers meant more tips, and more tips meant a little extra cash to stretch through the week. She felt a flicker of hope; perhaps today would be one of those rare days when everything fell into place.

“Hey, Rach!” called out one of her regulars, a kindly old man named Mr. Jenkins who always sat at the same booth by the window. He waved her over with a grin, his eyes twinkling with the warmth of familiarity that made her heart swell.

Rachel plastered on a smile and made her way to his table, her sneakers squeaking softly against the checkerboard floor. “Morning, Mr. Jenkins,” she greeted, pulling out her notepad. “The usual?”

He nodded, still grinning. “You know me too well, young lady.”

Rachel chuckled and jotted down his order. “One stack of pancakes and a side of bacon coming right up.” The simple exchange brought a sense of normalcy to her hectic morning, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there were small joys to be found.

She turned to leave but hesitated, glancing back at him with a genuine smile this time. “And how’s Mrs. Jenkins? Still keeping you in line?”

Mr. Jenkins laughed, a deep, hearty sound that warmed her heart. “Always, Rach. She’d be here with me if she weren’t busy with her book club.”

Rachel smiled, genuinely happy for the couple. It was nice to see people who’d made it through the rough patches and come out stronger on the other side. “Well, give her my best.” She wondered if she’d ever have a fifty-year marriage. At thirty, she was starting to push her luck on one lasting that long. A soft sigh escaped her lips, a fleeting thought of what could have been.

As she headed toward the kitchen to place his order, Rachel’s thoughts drifted back to Natalie. She wondered if Mrs. Connors, the elderly lady in the apartment next door, would be available to watch Natalie tonight. The woman had become something of a surrogate grandmother to Natalie over the years, often stepping in to help when Rachel’s night classes or work shifts ran late. She usually had Natalie’s caretaking scheduled ahead of time, but Misty had something come up, so she couldn’t watch Natalie that evening.

Money was always tight, but Rachel managed to scrape by. The tips she earned at the diner helped, but it was always a balancing act, making sure the bills were paid, the rent was covered, and there was enough left over for Natalie’s school supplies and other necessities. Sometimes, just sometimes, Rachel dreamed of a life where she didn’t have to worry about every penny, where she could focus on her studies and spend more time with Natalie without the constant stress gnawing at the back of her mind. Those dreams felt like distant stars, twinkling just out of reach.

But those were just dreams, and Rachel was nothing if not practical. She knew what needed to be done, and she did it without complaint. She’d taken on this job at Libby’s Diner when the small company she’d worked for went under, and she’d been grateful for the steady income, however modest. It wasn’t glamorous, and it wasn’t easy, but it was honest work, and it kept food on the table and a roof over their heads. And she knew God supplied her needs, and she was grateful for that, but sometimes she’d like a little extra. She would love to help other single moms in the area, but her paycheck never allowed her to help much. She dropped coins in containers at checkout stands for locals in need, but it never felt like she was doing much to help others.

She sucked in a deep breath and pushed through the kitchen door, the warmth from the grill hitting her like a wall. The sizzle of bacon and the smell of fresh coffee enveloped her, a reminder of the hustle that defined her days. She handed off the order to the cook, her mind already moving to the next task. There was no time to dwell on what-ifs or maybes. Her life might not be perfect, but it was hers, and she’d make the best of it for Natalie’s sake. And once she finished business school, she could get a better job with better working hours. She appreciated Libby hiring her, but she had to admit this was not her dream job.

As she returned to the front of the diner, the bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Rachel automatically shifted back into waitress mode, her practiced smile slipping back into place. But as she turned to greet the newcomer, something about him caught her off guard. He was tall, with broad shoulders and an air of quiet confidence. His eyes, a striking shade of blue, scanned the room before landing on her. There was something in his gaze—an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

Rachel blinked, pushing aside the unexpected flutter in her chest. She didn’t have time for distractions, especially not the kind that came in the form of a handsome stranger with a smile that could melt even the toughest of resolves.

“Welcome to Libby’s,” she said, her voice steady as she approached him. “Table for one?”

The man’s lips quirked into a half-smile, and for a moment, Rachel wondered if he could see right through her. “Yes, please,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth, a perfect match for the rest of him.

She led him to an empty booth by the window, the one next to where Mr. Jenkins usually sat. As he slid into the seat, Rachel handed him a menu, doing her best to ignore the way his fingers brushed against hers for the briefest of moments, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

“I’ll be back in a minute to take your order,” she said, her voice betraying nothing of the turmoil inside her.

The man nodded, his gaze following her as she walked away. Rachel could feel his eyes on her, and for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, it made her feel both nervous and exhilarated at the same time.

Shaking off the strange sensation, Rachel focused on her work. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in daydreams or fantasies, no matter how tempting they might be. Her life was about Natalie, about making ends meet and building a future for her daughter. Anything else was just a distraction, and she couldn’t afford distractions—not now, not ever.