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He pointed to a takeout container on the kitchen table. “You can eat that in the car.”
“Thanks, babes.” I peeked inside the box. He’d brought me a club sandwich and a pile of sweet potato fries from work. “You’re the bestest.”
“I know.” He twirled his keys around his finger. “There’s an iced tea in the fridge, too.”
I retrieved the drink and cradled my dinner in my arms. We locked up and headed toward the main entrance of our building. “How was your shift?”
“Not bad. Had a total Karen in my section right in the middle of the dinner rush. That was fun.” He made a face.
“Gross.”
“Oh yeah. She comes in and the first thing she does is yell at Melanie because she didn’t have a reservation and it was a forty-minute wait. I mean, what did she think would happen on a Saturday night during the dinner rush?”
“Obviously the restaurant should have anticipated her arrival and put aside the best table for her.”
He pushed open the main doors and waited so I could exit first. “Obviously.”
“So what happened? Did she wait?”
“Yeah, but not getting her way must have activated her Super Karen setting. Didn’t let me finish my greeting, wouldn’t let me tell her the drink specials, but then got mad when the other people in her party had to ask me for them.”
“Big yikes. I’m guessing she didn’t stop there?”
“Hell no.” He pointed left. “I’m that way.” Our building didn’t have a parking lot or any dedicated street parking so Aiden usually had to park on one of the side streets. “She ordered tea, but in a glass with ice, two packets of sugar, and three lemon wedges, one in the glass and two on the side.”
“So an iced tea?”
“Yup. But she lost her shit when she saw an iced tea on the bill. She demanded to only pay for tea because according to her, ice, sugar, and lemons are free. It’s two bucks for brewed tea and less than three for iced tea, and we have free refills. All that to save ninety cents. Like, why? What could possibly happen in someone’s life to make them yell at a server and throw a tantrum to save less than a buck?”
I shot him a commiserating look. “I don’t get it either. Did she chill out after she got her drink?”
He snort-laughed. “I wish. The first one I bought her was too cold and had too much ice in the glass. Second try didn’t have enough ice. I ended up just bringing her everything so she could make it herself, which she loudly complained about.”
“Ten bucks says she made a crack about getting paid because she’s doing your job for you?”
“You’d win that bet. It’s like they work off a script or something! After the drinks were settled, I spent two minutes trying to explain to her that the kitchen staff couldn’t make the seafood linguine vegan and still have seafood and cream sauce in it. Oh, and she left me seventy-two cents in small coins as a tip. On a nearly hundred-and fifty-dollar billandthey stayed at the table for over an hour after they finished eating.”
“Andthat’swhy I swing around a pole twice a week.” I sipped my drink as Aiden unlocked his car. “I can’t with those types. I can barely handle the ones we get at the café.”
“I’d be right there with you if I had any sense of rhythm.”
We slid into our seats and buckled up.
Aiden was my ride-or-die, but the guy couldn’t dance to save his life. He could barely clap along to a song in a steady beat without messing up. I’d tried to teach him a simple box step when we were sixteen and he stepped on his own toes and fell on his face. Twice. He was lucky he was so hot his lack of dance skills didn’t matter.
“Was the rest of your shift good at least?” I asked, then shoved a handful of fries in my mouth.
He shrugged. “Same shit, different day.”
I scarfed down my food as he drove the rest of the way to work. I’d just finished my last sip of iced tea when he pulled up to the entrance.
Leaning across the console, I pecked a kiss against Aiden’s cheek. “Thanks for the ride. Love you.”
“Love you.” He took the empty containers from me. “Have fun slutting it up.”
“Always.” I winked and pushed the car door open.
The club wasn’t much to look at from the outside. The squat building stood on a private lot and was flanked on three sides by greenspace. The neon sign simply said “Crimson Club” in bright yellow script, which always struck me as weird. Shouldn’t it be red? The brick façade was devoid of any windows, and blackout cling film covered the main doors. Nothing about it screamedstrip club, but that’s exactly what it was.
