Page 3 of His Naughty Waitress
Chapter3
Carter
“Are you fucking serious?This is what happens when we let the little ones organizethings.”
Great. Ted is on thebash Victorwagon, which by extension, becomes thebash Carterfieldday.
“Calm the hell down,” I say, keeping my voice low. “It’s not the end of the world. A few hours until the support crew gets here. We still have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves duringthistrip.”
“Carter’s right, man. It’s not that big of a deal,” Jeff’s slightly Southern drawl rings out to myright.
Ted is having a hissy fit for some unknown reason. “Not that big a deal, huh? How are we supposed to get comfortable? Is the lodge even open right now? Has it been aired out? Are the sheets changed?Comeon.”
Ted’s rant is not wasted on me. It’s a goddamned inconvenience that my brother has screwed up the scheduling for our time away. We’ve hosted the kickoff of these Christmas season retreats at Victor and my parents’ ski lodge in Lake Tahoe for years. This is the first time ever that Victor has been left on his own to organize everything. He’s the youngest official clubhouse member among the eight of us, not including Angelo’s younger brother, Franko. All along, Victor has been saying he’s working hard at covering all the bases. Covering the bases, my ass. He hardly takes anything seriously. The only thing he does right is to set up DJ Sophie B, the hottest, sexiest female DJ around, who’s handling the music. But this DJ happens to be the twin sister of Angelo’s girlfriend, Paige, so it’s probably Angelo who deserves to get the creditforit.
Beyond that, Victor has his head up his ass. He screws up the plans primarily by having us fly in ten hours before the staff and entertainment arrive, instead of ten hours after. That means nothing is set up at the lodge. Cooking, cleaning, getting into bikini thongs, that sort ofthing.
Ted finally looks around and gets a grip. “It’ll be fine. There’s plenty for us to do up here to keep ourselvesoccupied.”
I nod. “Skiing, snowboarding and chasing tail. More thanenough.”
“So we’re stopping at this dive because?” he asks, pointing at the front window of the diner, where Chauncey is standing with his hands and face pressed to theglass.
“We’ll have to wait a while for food. No staff at the lodge,remember?”
“Right.”
“It’s all lumberjack plaid and mullets in there,” Chaunceygrumbles.
“It can’t be any worse than the way Shawna’s got your balls in a vice with the divorce thing. Stop acting like a littlebitch.”
He stares at me while the guys make no effort to hide their grins. “Fine. Let’s go mingle with the natives,” he finally says. “But my betstands.”
“No more bets,” Irepeat.
“Why, your ass still hurting from the way you got fucked after the last poker game?” Markus says, picking up thetorch.
“Save it for the game. I’m bowing out from this hookup bet. More for the restofyou.”
Victor pulls open the front door and I step inside first. For a place like Lake Tahoe, this greasy spoon has a small-town country western feel. There are a few clusters of men having breakfast, some older men sipping coffee over a morning paper as they munch on muffins or pastries, and one table with a familyoffour.
“Morning, fellas,” says the waitress a few tables from the front door. Her back is turned as she pours coffee into a customer’s mug, and I can’t help but notice the perfect roundness of her ass. “I’ll be rightwithyou.”
“Table for seven, please,” I say, ignoring Chauncey behind me, who has already started shit-talking that I don’t have it in me to score pussy in a placelikethis.
I get the wind knocked out of me when the waitress turns to face us. She’s fucking gorgeous. Bright hazel eyes, a sweet-looking girl-next-door face, perky breasts just large enough to fill my hands, and a tiny waist under her waitress uniform. Her name, at least according to the tag on the uniform, is Missy. Our eyes lock, and our gaze holds for longer than it should. Seeming less than impressed, she waves us over. I follow herinside.
“I’ll put these two tables together,” she says, looking away. “Go ahead and hang up your coats while I get it set up. Be back in aminute.”
She heads over to a middle-aged waitress and quietly speaks to her as we throw our outerwear over the already crowded coatracks near the door. Whatever they’re discussing gets a giggle out of the second waitress. They return to where we’re standing, push the tables together, and the sexy waitress passes menus to each of us. From the way everyone around our two tables stares up at her, I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing. The waitress has stunning good looks, the kind that no one would expect to find in a Podunk divelikethis.
“Well, thanks Missy,” Jeff says, flashing her a broadsmile.
She gives him an all-businessnod.
“So, Missy, what do you recommend on the menu, darlin’?” Chauncey asks, plastering on the most insincere country twang I’ve heardinages.
“You can’t go wrong with the breakfast items,” she replies. “Can I get you gentlemen something to drink while you decide on yourorder?”
