“Yeah, I’m Denver.”
“Ladies, this is Denver. He’ll be your waiter for this evening. As I mentioned on the way in, I’m Danko, and we’re here to make sure you have a great night, so here are a few menus.” Danko hands the middle-age women enough menus to go around the table. He turns around and grabs a basket of peanuts from the table behind me, and I already know how this is going to go. “Is anyone allergic to peanuts?”
Seriously? Lame. “Because if you are, we’re not racist here, and we can find something else for you to munch on instead,” I add in. How the hell can you wear speedo shorts and not at least make jokes while doing so? Otherwise, what’s the point?
“Wooooooot! My man has a sense of humor. You are in for a treat tonight. Just make sure you stick around for the eight o’clock, mid-evening entertainment,” Danko adds in before slapping me on the back and walking away.
Mid-evening entertainment. They better have separate help for that shit.
“No one is allergic to nuts at this table,” the red-headed tourist says. “But do you know if they’re the salty kind?”
“I do believe these are the salty kind, miss. It’s the best treat to develop a thirst. Am I right?” A round of giggles echoes around the semi-circle table. “I’ll be back in just a moment to take your drink order.”
I head toward the bar to find out what’s on tap and if there are any specials, since I’ve had zero training or any type of introduction, and I’m a little scared to go back into the locker room for the moment. As I approach the bar, I notice a woman bartending, which I find particularly odd for this type of restaurant, though I’m guessing if she filled out an application, Noa couldn’t discriminate either. Laws and such. “Hey, uh—”
“New guy, right?” she asks.
“Denver,” I say, reaching my hand out.
“Lani,” she replies, taking my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m just wondering if you can tell me what’s on tap and if we have any specials. Noa didn’t quite fill me in yet.” I’m looking over the bar at the taps, trying to see what’s available, but she quickly sputters them out in alphabetical order and hands me a drink special menu. I jot down the beers and copy the list of specials.
“Thanks for writing them down. It makes my job easier than having to repeat myself twenty times in one shift.”
Sounds like Noa has some winners working here, or that’s why this position was open. Either way, efficiency is always better. “No one likes a pest,” I tell her.
“Exactly.” She places a few drinks up on the bar. “Would you mind taking these to the VIP table over there in the corner?”
I look over my shoulder at the ‘VIP’ table, spotting the hotel staff I recognize from earlier today … Kai and all. Fucking fabulous. “Sure thing, Lani.”
“Denver,” she says before turning away with the drinks. “Thanks for not being a douche. You’re the first one not to say something stupid within five minutes of working here.”
I feel like her comment should shock me, but it doesn’t. Any guy who volunteers for this position is looking for ass, plain and simple. “My pleasure.”
This is going to suck. This is going to suck. This is going to suck.
Lani dropped a slip with the drinks so I know what’s what. If I just stick to the job, maybe I won’t get any comments. “I have two Bottom Barrel Stouts, a Rear Peach Mojito, and a Rump Punch.” Whoever named the drinks has a sense of humor at least.
“I got the Rump Punch,” Kai says with a raised brow.
“I have the mojito,” the other girl, who I believe works at the hotel’s cabana cafe, says.
“Okay, and I take it the two stouts go to the two studs,” I say, placing the beers down.
“Dude, no. Just no. We’re here for Noa, not the entertainment,” one of the two guys says.
“Where is that bastard anyway?” I ask them.
“We haven’t seen him or Lea,” Kai says with an irritated look on her face. Her elbow is resting on the table, and her hand is smashed up against her cheek, holding her head up. This obviously isn’t her scene, but why is she here if that’s the case? She doesn’t strike me as the type to be told what to do or where to go.
I place the last drink, the Rump Punch, down on a cocktail napkin in front of Kai. “Here you go.”
She glances up at me with a look I can’t decipher. It’s teetering on the edge of sadness and boredom if I had to guess. “Have you had a chance to look at your menus?” I ask the crowd.
“We should probably wait for Lea and Noa,” Kai says, completely monotone.
I squat down beside her as the others continue in their conversation. While squatting down, I feel the stretch of the shorts against my junk, and it adds a quick mental note that I should not squat down—ever again—in these shorts. “You look sort of miserable,” I tell Kai.
“I am sort of miserable,” she replies.
“Why are you miserable?”
“I don’t want to be here gawking at dogs and buns.”
“So, don’t gawk,” I tell her.
“You’re not a native of the islands, are you?” she asks.
“No, ma’am. I’m originally from Dallas, Texas. I was stationed over on Oahu though.”
“I couldn’t place your accent, but now it makes sense.”
“Yup, you don’t easily lose a Southern dialect, I guess.”
“So, if you’re from Texas, why do you have tribal ink all over your chest and arm?” she asks, studying the tattoos covering the right side of my body.
I look down at the artwork, remembering the times I spent in the chair listening to the buzz of the needle. “It’s just something I wanted to do after my daughter was born. Hawaii is a part of me now, and I like the meanings behind the symbols.”
“Interesting,” Kai says with a sigh, but sounding fascinated at the same time—I think. Whatever the case is, she’s made it clear she isn’t interested in me, so I need to remember that. I shouldn’t be interested in anything about her either. We just got here, and I need to get my life on track before thinking about anything or anyone other than Aya.
Just as the conversation between the two of us fizzles, Noa and Lea meander out of the locker room, holding hands. Their matching smirks confirm what was happening back there, but still, they casually take seats around the table as they act like no one was waiting for them. “What are you guys getting to eat?” Lea asks.
“His buns,” the other chick at the table mutters.
“You want to eat my buns?” I ask her. I turn around and make a show of pointing to my ass. “Like which part would you start with?”
“Uh,” the girl laughs nervously. “I was kidding, sorry.”
“No worries, I figured the comments came with the job,” I say with a wink. At the same moment, I notice Kai giving me a snarl. “Well, I’m guessing I have other tables to tend to, right Noa?” I place the tray behind my back, crossing my hand over my other wrist. I’m just standing here with my feet spread apart, waiting for orders from him while he tries not to laugh at the sight of me.
“Dude, you really fill the role nicely. I got to hand it to you.”
“I fill the role, or the shorts?” I reply.
Noa shrugs with a cocky smirk. “Both, darling.” He gives me a pucker and wink.
“Boss, would you like to tell me what’s next on my to-do list tonight? I didn’t want to interrupt you in the locker room.”
“Tables ten through twenty are yours tonight.”
“Ten tables at once?” I question. That’s a lot, especially on night one.
“You can handle it,” he tells me. “What do you guys want to eat tonight?”
“Wings,” the guys say.
“I’ll do wings too,” Kai seconds the order.
“Sure, wings,” Lea agrees.
“Talia?” Noa questions. Talia is the one who wants to eat my buns.
“Oh, she’s having my buns for dinner, remember?” I chime in. Talia
throws her head back into the seat and covers her face. My job here is done. “Are tables ten through twenty in this section?” I wave at the surrounding tables, assuming this is my zone.
“Yeah, from that pillar over there to this table,” Noa confirms.
“On it, and I’ll be back with my buns on a platter for you, Talia.”
“So arrogant,” Kai mumbles.
I turn to her. “Sorry, did you say something?” I ask, cupping my hand around my ear.
Kai forces a fake smile, appearing as though she might be grinding her jaw. “I didn’t say anything,” she says, exasperated.
Noa stands up from the table and follows me toward the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, dude. I know I just threw you into this. Do you want to shadow someone tonight?”
“Nah,” I tell him. “I’ll be good.”
“You seem pretty ticked.”
I press my lips together, unsure how to respond to his statement. On the one hand, he was nice enough to offer me a well-paying job. On the other, this wasn’t on my agenda after serving in the military for eight years. “It’s a job. It’s money. I’ll be honest with you, though. I don’t want to end up screwing you over or anything, but I’m going to keep my eyes open for a nine to five. Nights are going to be hard with Aya, but until I find something else, I appreciate the work, and I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”
Once we enter the kitchen, Noa leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “I knew it wouldn’t be a permanent thing for you, but I needed the help, and you were looking for work. I didn’t tell you exactly what the job entailed because I figured you wouldn’t walk in, knowing what the job was.”
“Probably not,” I say, shaking my head. “So just run me through everything quickly.”
He pushes off the wall and walks ahead to one corner of the kitchen. “Here’s one of the registers. There’s also one in each section. The system is pretty simple, especially since our menu is small. I’ll just show you with the order from my VIP table. You type in your table number, the drinks, and orders. The system will do the rest for you. The chefs usually take about ten minutes to prepare food, and the bartender takes around five minutes for a drink order larger than three or four.”
“Got it,” I tell him.
“Oh, and one last thing.”
I close my eyes because I recall the mention of a mid-evening intermission show. “What’s that?”
“At eight, we play ‘Baby Got Back’ by Sir Mix-a-lot. Feel free to improvise if you don’t know the words. The chicks love it, and it breaks up the night a bit.”
“You’re kidding ...” I grumble.
Noa finishes punching in the order and turns to face me. “I believe it was 2008, and we were trapped in a mild sandstorm in the middle of Afghanistan. I was pissy; so was everyone else for that matter, but not Denver … not you. What were you doing?” He’s questioning me like I don’t remember exactly what I was doing.
“I was cheering all you pussies up,” I tell him.
“Singing what?”
“Please tell me I was not your inspiration for this establishment.”
“Your buns are hot and shit, but nah, I read an article, and one thing led to another, but the song—that inspiration was from you.”
“Aww,” I coo. That’s so adorable.
“Don’t get your panties all in a twist. It’s a good song,” he says.
“Damn straight.”
“So … Kai was giving you a lingering look,” he says while looking at the slips hanging from the heating bar.
“It’s just the shorts,” I tell him.
“Nah, she was looking at you earlier while you and Aya were at the pool too.”
“She seems uptight.”
“There’s a reason for that,” Noa says. “A legitimate reason. She’s a good person, even though we fight more than we talk.”
“Interesting. What’s her reason for being uptight?”
“Not my story to tell, bro, but she’s single. Word on the street—or from her sister—she’s as pure as they come … if you get my drift.”
I’m not sure I’d believe that. With her confidence mixed with her looks, I would bet she could have any guy wrapped around her finger with just a blink of her eyes. “We’ll see where life takes us, I guess,” I tell him.
“Life should take you to her house.” The girl I automatically nicknamed “No.” I think I might have better chances elsewhere. Not that I wouldn’t try, but I think that would be a dead-end.
“Thanks for the advice. I’m going to go see if any other tables in my section have been seated.”
“No problem, dude. Showtime is in thirty minutes.”
Fuck.
8
Kai
I’m not sure how much longer I can give Lea a dirty look before she’ll acknowledge it, but I’m completely uncomfortable sitting here while she talks with her friends. I’ve worked with these people longer than she has, but I keep to myself for the most part. Lea has taken on the role of a socialite for most of our lives. I don’t feel like I have a whole lot in common with these people, I guess, even though we’re all in our twenties, single except Lea, and have lived here in Maui our whole lives. I’m sure we have things in common, but they want to live it up and have fun, and I’ve never taken an interest in that part of being twenty-something because I’ve been living the life of a single parent instead.
“Kai, have you seen anything interesting tonight?” Lea asks. “You’ve been staring at the chalkboard menu on the other side of the restaurant for the last twenty minutes.”
“Nope. Nothing interesting,” I tell her.
Noa sits back down at the table, wraps his arm around Lea’s neck, and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. Seeing them in this setting, minus the whole, mostly naked men part, is giving me a different view of their relationship. I’ll just pretend like I didn’t see the whole bicker war when we first arrived, especially since I know how Lea is. I don’t think I’ve ever gone a day without having an argument with her, so I can’t hold those scenes against Noa. Wow … now I’m defending Noa, owner of this man-whore bar and grill. What is my life coming to?
“Your friend, Denver, seems nice,” Lea tells Noa. “He’s really down to earth. I’m kind of surprised he agreed to work here, actually.”
“He didn’t agree as much as I kind of tricked him, but hey, it all worked out,” he tells her.
“Guess so. What’s his story other than he has a daughter and just moved over here?” I would have assumed Noa had told Lea more about Denver, but she seems to know just about as much as I do. Plus, I’m sure if she knew of an eligible single man moving to our island, she’d make mention of him to me.
“He’s just a good guy. What else can I say?” Noa says.
“Hmm,” Lea pipes up. “Interesting.”
I surely don’t find anything interesting in that. “Well, I’d like to make a toast while we wait for our food,” I stand up with my second, strong Rump Punch and hold it in the air.
I watch Lea slump into her seat a little, and a part of me breaks inside. Is this what I’ve done to her? I’ve become this figure in her life who mortifies her? It wasn’t what I intended. Never.
I close my eyes and pull in some vinegary-scented air, letting it out slowly through pursed lips. “Despite not knowing that we were celebrating Lea and Noa’s engagement tonight until just a few hours ago, I still have something prepared to say because I’ve been thinking about it for years, before Lea was even in the mindset of settling down, and before she knew Noa for that matter.” I lower my arm a bit, feeling the weight of the heavy glass in my hand. “Lea is bright, happy … a full-of-life kind of person that matches who I am somewhere deep inside my quiet soul. She loves to love and has a heart of gold. She’s fierce and knows what she wants. That’s why I didn’t blink when she called me shrieking about Noa asking her to marry him.” I settle my eyes on Lea, noticing she’s pulled herself back up to a normal sitting position. “I kn
ew if she agreed to marry a man, he must be the right guy for her.”
“Kai,” Lea tries to interrupt me.
“No, I’m not done,” I tell her.
“When Noa asked me if he could propose to Lea, I knew everything was going to be perfect. It’s what I’ve always wanted for her. It’s what I’ve hoped for. She is the closest person in my life, and I’m willing to share her with a standup guy who went through the motions of tradition. Though I wasn’t completely sold on his Buns, I appreciate the balls it took to come talk to me.” I re-lift my glass. “To Lea and Noa. Cheers.”
Lea’s biting down on her lip as tears shroud her eyes, and she mouths the words, “Thank you,” to me.
I nod my head and push a smile into the corners of my lips, trying not to lose any of my own tears. I feel like I didn’t let Mom and Dad down. I think they’d be proud right now—well, maybe prouder if we were in a different restaurant, but still.
“See, Lea, I told you she wasn’t as tough as she acts,” Noa says with a quick wink in my direction.
I give him the stink eye and return to my seat. As I slide back onto the cool cushion, I notice Denver looking over at our table, specifically at me. He’s standing in front of a table full of women ogling him, but he’s giving me a thumbs-up.
He heard all of that? My face ignites with heat, feeling exposed at the moment.
He returns his attention to the table and begins to take their order just as the lights dim slowly, as if someone were turning a dial.
The country music that was playing softly in the background goes mute, and the sound of a record scratch echoes through the restaurant.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats for our mid-evening entertainment, featuring our hot and spicy man buns.” I don’t know who was speaking through the microphone or loudspeaker, but the man has the deepest voice I’ve ever heard.
“Den, you’re up,” Noa yells over to him. “Lani has a mic for you at the bar.”
The other waiters join a confused-looking Denver up in front of the bar where he’s taking ahold of the microphone. I can’t even imagine what’s about to go down in here, but for some reason, I haven’t been this excited for as long as I can remember.
The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns Page 94