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“Lord, have mercy on that child,” Loretta muttered as she walked away.
So,thatwas how Georgianna got good tips.
After checking on my customers, I edged toward a corner in the back and glanced at my plain white T-shirt. I twisted the hem until the shirt tightened and tucked it in. Hmm. It definitely showed more of my shape, but it wasn’t enough. Georgianna had ample cleavage, and it appeared to be a powerful tipping machine.
I let my fingers graze over my breasts. Maybe it would be worth splurging on a few low-cut T-shirts. The kitchen door opened, and Hudson stepped out with two plates in his hand. Of course, he glanced in my direction. I dropped my hands quickly, but it probably still looked like I was groping myself.
His eyes widened, and the plates tipped forward, clattering to the floor.
“Oh, no!” I rushed forward to help him.
A mess of shattered plates and food littered the floor in front of him. I reached for one of the broken plates, and Hudson snatched my wrist. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”
“But—”
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. Glancing at me, he asked, “What were you doing?”
“Thinking!”
His grin was lopsided when he asked, “You grope yourself while you think?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Oh, let me use a softer term. Were you fondling yourself?”
“Oh, my god. I said I wasn’t.”
“Then what were you thinking?”
“About tips,” I blurted out. “Georgianna makes better tips than me.” I elaborated by holding my arms out in front of my breasts, like I might cup them.
He blinked, his jaw tightening. “No.No.”
“What do you mean, no? I’m just weighing my options here.” He glimpsed down, and I exhaled. “Not literally!”
“No.”
Fries and a burger cluttered the floor, along with Alfredo noodles. “That’s my table’s food, isn’t it? I’ll go tell them it will be another minute.”
My tip was gone, all because I stressed out the chef.
???
“Hudson wants us all in the breakroom after closing,” Georgianna informed everyone as I wiped down a table.
“I wonder what for,” Rebecca said as she carried two salads.
“Who knows?” Georgianna shrugged. “I know he wants the first shift to arrive a few minutes early for a meeting about the same thing in the morning.”
Did that mean I had to attend both meetings?I’d have to ask him.
After locking the door, we cleaned up and waited for Hudson in the breakroom. He entered the room, yanking at the top button of his shirt. I saw a glimpse of hair on his chest when he unbuttoned the second one. Then he ran his fingers through his styled hair, messing it up, before plopping down in a seat beside us.
The bottom of my stomach tingled. I swallowed and fanned my face. Why was it so hot? Did the AC stop working?
“It’s about our dress code,” he began.
I lowered my hand.
