Page 66 of Lilah
Word count: 4264
-Ashlyn E. Montgomery
Chapter 10: Hugs
?Azalea?
I'm seriously considering becoming a stripper. Very seriously.
But without actually stripping, I would get one of those shirts that has a really fit body printed on it. It's a win-win-win. Win 1) I get paid as much as a regular stripper. Win 2) I don't actually have to show off my body (thank goodness because it's nothing to really see and I probably wouldn't get much money). Win 3) I can literally dance all day.
On the downside, I have little to no arm strength so I may have to stay off the poles.
What am I even saying?
Twelve in the afternoon, I'm walking through town square. Usually, if Grey comes to see me, it's around eleven or so but today he didn't show up.
So, I figured I can go to his restaurant or whatever, maybe see him, and I could get some food if I wanted with the money Aaron gave me.
Two hundred whole dollars. I told him that I didn't want to take his money but he insisted and I can't turn down money like that so I took it.
He's like my sugar daddy. Nevermind.
After getting myself a caramel iced coffee, I turn down Red Street. I open the door to Grey's bar and instead of seeing my favorite waiter, I see another one.
He's leaned against a small counter where the menus are stacked and the cash register sits in front of him. He looks quite unhappy.
"Can I help you?" he mumbles like he doesn't really want to help me. I'm sure that's not very good for Grey's business.
"Can I have a table for one? Or like a table for two I guess since I don't think there's such thing as a table for one," I ramble a tad bit before realizing that the guy that walked in on Grey on I kissing.
Isn't that just fun?
He grabs a menu and hands it to me. My eyebrows furrow a bit and with the wave of his hand, he tells me to go sit wherever. I giggle a little bit at how much he obviously hates what he's doing.
I find a table for two and sit on one side of it opening up my menu.
Oh my gosh, they have waffles.
I shimmy in my seat excitedly and crack my thumbs when I make a fist.
It takes a while for the waiter guy to get to my table. A good thirty minutes actually. Good thing I'm not that hungry or he'd have to be hustling more than that.
"Drink?" he mumbles.
"Sweet tea, please," I tell him and he shuffles away. A good ten minutes later, he comes back to take my order, still not have given me my drink.
"Belgian Waffles," I smile, "with syrup!"
He shuffles away once more. I'm not too sure if he even wrote down my order.
Forty-five minutes later, I'm given some delicious looking waffles. No syrup.
I'm going to sue.
I still never got my drink. I'm going to sue again.
"Here," he throws the bill down on my table. I almost throw it back at his face but I don't.
