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Frost’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “That’s probably Indiana. I told her we were stopping at Mr. Speed’s.” He put the phone to his ear and smiled as he listened. “Yeah, baby. Just tell me what you want.”
He wandered back over to his bike and hit the button to call the waitress.
Pie leaned his arm on the top of my car and popped another fry into his mouth. “You sure you’re okay?”
I grabbed my spoon, mounded it with a scoop of ice cream, and shoved it in my mouth. I was hardly okay. It was one thing to be made fun of because of your weight, but it was another to have it done in front of two hot guys. One of those guys who had seen you naked numerous times and knew with his own eyes you were pleasantly fat.
“Never better.” I was only on day one of no Pie, and he was standing in front of me. Day one was not going well.
“I don’t believe you.”
I shrugged. “Well, whatever.” I cleared my throat and grabbed another fry. I swiped it through my ice cream and popped it into my mouth. “Did you follow me here?” I might as well get to it. I didn’t know how Pie could have followed me, but I had learned with the Knights, anything was possible.
“We were driving by, and we saw you. We flipped a U-turn and came back to talk to you.”
“About?” I drawled. I didn’t know what I had to talk about with Pie and Frost.
“We need a cook.”
I furrowed my brow. “Uh, what?” I had zero idea what Pie was talking about. “You have Meg. She’s an amazing cook. I don’t know what you need a cook for.” I leaned forward. “Did something happen to Meg?” I gasped.
Pie shook his head. “No, no. Nothing happened to Meg. We need a cook for Sultry Knights.”
“I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but I don’t think Sultry Knights can afford to pay me what I make at Wyndemere.”
Pie chuckled. “I know that, babe. I’m not here to ask you to come work for the club. What I’m asking is if you know anyone looking for a job. Any of your chef friends?”
I tipped my head to the side. “Uh, well, if I had chef friends, I would give you their names, but I don’t. Remember that teeny tiny circle of friends I have?”
“Come on,” Pie goaded. “You have to have a couple of friends from culinary school who need a job. The club is opening for three days a week, and we’re going to be doing themes for the meals.”
“Themes?” I asked. My interest was piqued.
Right before my eyes, Pie blushed. A light pink crawled up his cheeks. He looked to the side and blew out a breath. “Do I really need to answer that?” he asked.
I shrugged. “If you want me to ask one of my imaginary friends if they want to work at the club, then you’re going to have to give me more details.” Theme nights at the strip club made Pie blush? The girls took their clothes off for money. What else was going to happen that could make his cheeks turn girlishly pink?
“Tacos, pasta, and burgers.”
I cocked my head to the side. “There has to be more to it than that. Tacos, pasta, and burgers made you blush like a little school girl?” I jested.
Pie sighed. “Tacos and Titties, Boobs and Burgers, and…” He cleared his throat. “Pasta and Pussy.”
I snorted and slapped my hand over my mouth. “Please tell me you are getting those printed up on huge banners to put out at the front of the strip club,” I wheezed. “Those are brilliant.”
Pie shrugged. “I did come up with pasta and pussy.”
“Really? I figured you would have come up with pie and pussy.”
Pie scoffed. “You know…” He clamped his lips shut. “I’m surprised I didn’t come up with it either,” he laughed.
I ate a spoonful of ice cream. “Pasta is good, though. Sort of leaves things open to where you can do different sauces and stuff.”
“So, you know of someone who would be interested?”
I shook my head. “I told you I don’t have any chef friends.”
“What?” Pie growled. “I told you the themes because you said I had to so you could tell your chef friends what the job was.”
