“It’s just us in the truck,” I tell him.
“You just never know,” he says, looking around like he’s paranoid. He’s lost his mind. That’s all I can chalk this up to.
“Okay, well—” I want to turn around and get the hell away from this restaurant, but I did what I could to save up over the last year, knowing I was getting out of the military, and the last thing I want to do is go through the nest egg I have set aside for Aya and me. Fuck.
“I’ll give you one night, man. If this is as bad as I think it is, it’s only going to be one night.”
“I only need one night,” he says, looking me up and down. “Just ask Lea.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
“I’m kidding, bro. Relax. You have to relax before you go inside. You can’t be all uptight and shit or you’ll be clenching. No one wants to see dimpled ass cheeks. Trust me. I’ve gotten complaints before.” What?
“You’ve had complaints about dimpled ass cheeks?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind that. Look, you won’t be upset when you see your tips, Den. You won’t,” he follows up with.
“It’s a Monday. How could you be that busy on a Monday?”
“Oh, we’re busy as hell every night.” Noa hops out of the truck and takes a few steps toward the front entrance before turning around and giving me a glare through the windshield. He places his hands on his hips and cocks his head to the side, looking pissed before a stupid smirk appears. Dammit to hell.
I get out of the truck, throwing the door open, and stomping out in my boots.
This is bull. Serious bull.
Now resolved to walk inside, I glance around the lot, finding it packed for so early at night. I swear, if there’s a pole inside, I’m not taking another step.
He holds open the glass door and waves me in. “No one will bite you, bro. Don’t worry,” Noa assures me.Ass. I need to eliminate that word from my vocabulary now that it’s taken on a whole new meaning.
Bite me?No. No one would bite my ass, right? That’s insane.
This is insane.
“Well, you know what? They—whoevertheyare—they should be the ones who should worry … because Idobite,” I tell him.
“Easy,” he says. “This isn’t a locker room. Though we do have one in the back, so you can get changed into your uniform.”
“Uniform?” My chest constricts and tightens with irritation. He said something about shorts.Shit.
He doesn’t respond to my question as he continues walking past me, but I see the other waiters in what looks like skintight silky boxer briefs that leave little to the imagination. “Just think. If we lived in Europe, they’d probably be wearing even less,” Noa says, as if that’s supposed to make me feel better.
Noa leads me into the back room, not to be confused with the kitchen because this is an actual locker room. He opens a closet door and grabs something. “Here’s your uniform.” He hands it over. I think. I’m not sure if he has anything in his hand because whatever he’s holding is so small his hand conceals the entire damn thing.
“Dude, I’ve seen condom wrappers bigger than this sealed plastic bag.”
“If you have, you should tell whoever was using it to get themselves checked out because that’s not right, bro. Not right at all.”
“I’ll do that,” I mutter.
“There’s a private changing area down to the left. Most of the guys don’t care about privacy, but I can see you might need some time to get adjusted … you know …”
Ticked off and irritable, I drop my shorts and boxers to the ground and tear open the damn bag. This thing is too damn small to fit over my fucking ass. “Does this make you uncomfortable?” I ask Noa. “I’m standing here basically naked and you’re fully dressed. Didn’t you learn anything about leading by example? So, where’syouruniform, huh?”
“I have to be professional. I mean, it’s my restaurant. You know?”
“No, no, I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now, or why I’m here, or how the hell you ended up in charge of anything or anyone.”
“Relax. You’re a natural. I promise.” Noa is completely unfazed by my anger, which pisses me off a little more. He could have warned me about this earlier. He knew I wouldn’t go for it. Bastard.
