Noa starts up the truck and backs out of the driveway. “Honestly, I have a great staff. It kind of all came together way better than I could have hoped for. The managers take care of all the shifts, and I mostly oversee all running parts. I work a lot, but I make time for a personal life too. It’s all possible.”
“That’s fantastic. Lea seems like a great woman. I’m happy for you, man.”
“She really is, and very understanding too. I’m lucky to have her.”
“Understanding because of your schedule?” I ask.
“Well, that’s one reason. Yeah,” Noa says while pulling out onto the highway.
“What’s the other reason?” I press. I can’t help feeling like I’m missing something, or not reading clearly between the lines.
Noa takes in a deep breath and holds it, letting me know that there is, in fact, something he’s about to say. “Did I mention the type of restaurant I run?”
“No, but I suppose I should have asked when you told me how much money your waiters are making in tips. I knew it had to be too good to be true, so spill it.”
“It’s nothing illegal. So … don’t worry about that.”
“Good to know,” I tell him, resting my head back against the seat. “Okay, then what? Is it a strip club or something?”
“No, no, no man, not a strip club.”
“It’s not illegal, and it’s not a strip club. This is a hell of a riddle, man. I’m stumped.”
“You’re getting closer,” he says.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I’m also getting irritated. I’m not signing up for anything shady whether it’s illegal or not. I’ve got Aya to care for, and I need to make money in a legit way. “Just spit it out.”
As I spew out my last demand, we pull into a newly paved parking lot with a huge ass—pun fucking intended—sign that tells me everything I need to know. “Man Buns?” I laugh. It’s uncontrollable. “No fucking way,” I tell him.
“You don’t even know what it is,” he huffs. “It’s a gold mine, Den.”
“Well, let’s see here, Noa. I’m looking at a larger-than-life sign with two men, and their asses are covered with burger buns. Go ahead and explain, please. I’m sure this gets way better.”
“Look, all you have to do is walk around with tight shorts and no shirt. You did it for eight years, you sexy devil, you.” He winks at me like that’s going to make me change my mind about this. “Come on. You can handle it now.”
“I did it for eight years?” I question. Never mind. I see where he’s going with that. “I wasn’t shirtless.”
“Never,” he croons. “I never saw you running around shirtless in your ass-kissing silky shorts.” Those were my younger days, that’s how everyone walked around the barracks. We were all dudes. Who gave a shit?
“You’re holdingthatagainst me?” I ask.
“No, I’m holding you up to it,” he replies.
“You’re out of your damn mind. You know that? You need help or something. What the hell where you thinking? This is like … this is just dumb.”
“Please, just give me one night,” Noa begs.
He’s actually begging me. If his staff is getting paid so well, I wouldn’t think he’d need to be looking for applicants. This makes no sense. “Is begging your game? Is that how you got your fiancée to sayyes?’”
He mouths the word, “Ouch,” and waves his hand around like I burnt him. “No, I didn’t ask her for one night. I asked her for one more night, and then the rest of her nights, and all that romantic gushy stuff.”
I sigh and throw my head back. “What gave you this idea? Seriously. I mean—” I point up at the billboard. “This is—”
“A moneymaker,” he says. “I’m telling you, bro, chicks dig this shit. It’s like having the Magic Micks of the world serving you the best burgers in the area!”
“Magic Mick?”
“Copyright Infringement,” he says. “I try not to say the real name. Don’t want to get sued.”
