Spicy Desires: Love on Two Wheels and a Plate

Invite to lake

I hated my life.

Now I know exactly what you are thinking.

That's exaggerated.

My home life sucked.
It was dangerous while my dad has never laid a hand on me per se, he has thrown things at me and hit walls near me.

My mom was off screwing random men after she left my dad.

I hadn't seen her in years; she would text me now and then and ask me for money. She will send a picture of herself, and that's it. She won't ask how I'm doing or check in on me; she just asks for money when her customers don't pay her for her service. Her pimp gets mad.

So I send her money, and I know I shouldn't enable her, but I do. I want to keep her safe so desperately.

I sigh deeply, buckling my seatbelt and driving to my new job.

I got hired as a witness, and finally, my training was over. So I didn't have to follow someone around like a lost puppy.

I was thankful I was hired; I could have some extra money to help with bills. I had been without a job for a few days after my boss decided to lay off people, and unfortunately, that was me.

I drive slowly, looking at my fuel gauge.
Man, I hope I get some tips so I can get some gas.

I park my car unbuckling. I give myself a pep talk.
Come on, girl, you have got this. You are a bad bitch and will be amazing. I tell myself before softly opening and closing the door behind me.
I pull my hair up and walk inside.

"Allison!" The hostess calls out.
"Becca." I can with the same enthusiasm.

"You have sections 3," she tells me.

"Alright, thank you," I say nodding in acknowledgment.

I walk to the time clock, punching in.
I look at my section; my waist has a beeper when someone gets seated in my section.

"Hey, you must be new. I'm Breton, but you can call me Brett." He man says

"Hello Brett, I'm Allison, but people call me Ali," I say with a smile.

"Well, Ali, what time are you getting off?" He asks, cooking, and everyone else is playing on their phone.

"I get off at 8 today," I say with a smile.

"Oh, well, some of the workers are going to the lake today. I'm not sure if you'd be interested or not, but I figured I'd ask." He says to me his eyes bright and his smile perfect.
He seemed nervous. Maybe I just thought I'd be weirded out by the offer.

"Okay, I'm interested; why not? Unless you plan to lure me to murder me or something because that will be lame." I say with a laugh.

"Murder you? I'm not that crazy." He says with a laugh as he slides the plate for the order.
Ringing the bell. He fully faces me now.

"So you're still crazy, just not murderous?" I joked with a wink.

"Exactly." He says with a smirk.

"Where's the fun in that?" I joke.

His eyes widen slightly in a joking manner.
"Oh, I'm so scared." He says, holding his hands up in a surrender sign.

"You definitely should be," I say chuckling.

"Oh, Allison I'm truly petrified." He says, shaking his head in amusement before turning around and starting to cook another meal.

Just then I finally got a customer.
"Hello, I'm Allison. I'm going to be your server today. What can I get to drink for you boys today?" I ask

"Well, what do you have on draft?" One of them asks

Carefully I list our draft beers.

"Just get me Michelob Ultra." They both replied.

They showed me their ID, and I got them their drinks.

"Are you guys ready to order?" I ask them

"Yes, no appetizers today. I just want the number 6." The guy replies

I nod in agreement.

"I'll have the number 15, but dry." He says

"Alright, I'll have that right out," I say taking their menus and wiping them off, sliding them back at the hostess stand, and entering their order into the computer.

I walk back to the jar and get their drinks bringing them their draft beers.

I see the cooks working as a team in a line, working on all the orders.

"Thank you," I say once the order is done, I set the order softly down on the table.

"Anything else I can get you right now?" I ask with a smile, seeing their full beers and now hot food. They have tools. As well.

"Actually yes." One of them says with a smirk.

I look at him, waiting for him to tell me what he wants.

"Your number." He says, looking at me.

"Okay," I say not seeing a reason to say no.

He pulls out his phone instantly.

He looks at me, arching his brow, now waiting for me to continue.

"It's xxx-xxx-xxxx I say as I watch him type in my number. He dials it, and my phone rings in my back pocket before he hangs up.

"Just checking." He says before sliding his phone back into his pocket.

I walk back into the kitchen, and the smell of mouthwatering food fills the air.

Making my stomach growl. Eventually, I noticed after I got slammed Brett was gone.

Whenever I get a moment, I need to run to my car and get that granola bar.

I laugh at myself about how excited I am for a simple oat bar.

Other girls want expensive things here, and I am excited about a granola bar.

Brett was looking at me as I continued to meet with my customers as my waist beeped. My section is now empty as I lean against the wall.

"Have you had your lunch yet?" He asked me suddenly.

"Not yet," I say.

"Well, clock out now; you don't have anyone in your section. Didn't Charity get here after you? Why did she take lunch before you?" He asked

"I'm not sure; honestly, it's not a big deal. I'll go ahead and clock out." I say with a smile.

"You do get lunch here every day, so just let me know what you want, and I'll make it happen." He says, leaning on the counter to meet my gaze.