Brittney gave me a sultry smile. "Like where?"
It was my turn to smile. "Taco Bell."
Her smile faded. "What?"
"There's one up the road," I said. "You wanna hit it?"
She drew back. "You mean like fast food?"
"Hey, if you don't want to deal with a server," I said. "Not a problem. We'll hit the drive-through. Not a big deal."
I wasn't bluffing. I liked Taco Bell. More to the point, I wasn't going to sit here and watch Brittney hassle someone who worked for a living.
After a long moment, Brittney laughed, too loud and too shrill. A split second later, Amber joined in. Around us, people turned to look.
Through the laughter, Brittney squealed out, "You are such a kidder."
I gave her a look. "I wasn't kidding."
She stopped laughing. So did Amber. They shared a glance.
It was Amber who spoke first. "But I like it here. And they've got pancakes." She bit her lip. "Taco Bell doesn't have pancakes. Do they?"
My gaze slid to Brittney. "No," I said. "They don't."
Brittney said nothing, but I could see the wheels turning. How should she play this? The way it looked, she wasn't quite sure.
Beside her, Amber gave me a weak smile. "But if you're in the mood for Mexican, I'm sure we can find something we like." She reached for her purse. "You wanna head out?"
"No!" Brittney blurted out. "I mean, we can't leave. We already ordered."
Yeah, we had. I'd wanted a steak. But I'd ordered a cheeseburger. Faster to cook. Faster to eat. If I had to, I could eat a cheeseburger in two bites. Skip the fries.
"And besides," Brittney told me, "I bet you get drooled on wherever you go. Right?"
"Not if I can help it," I said.
She laughed again, putting some real gusto into it. It was too shrill, too fake, too annoying. When I didn't join in, she abruptly stopped. She leaned back and reached for her drink. She glanced toward the waitress station and said, "It's not like a real job, you know."
I glanced around. The place was packed. I saw waitresses with trays and notepads, rushing from table to table. The way it looked, some of their tables were on opposite sides of the restaurant. Whatever their system was, it looked royally messed up. Or maybe they were just short-staffed. Who knew.
I'd never worked in a restaurant, but I'd been to hundreds. Plus, a friend's sister had waitressed for a couple of years back in high school. She'd given me the rundown. Rude customers, bad sections, lousy tippers – I'd heard it all.
"It looks like a real job to me," I said.
"Not here, it isn't," Brittney insisted. "It's more like being an actress." She gave a dramatic shudder. "But the hair. It really is awful, isn't it?"
"I dunno," Amber said. "I think it's kind of cute. You know. Retro."
"Cute?" Brittney said. "You're kidding, right?" She turned back to me. "What do you think, Lawton?"
"About the hair?" I said. "I like it. It's smoking hot."
Brittney's brow wrinkled. "Seriously?"
Hell no, I wasn't serious. But there was no way I'd be giving Brittney another reason to look down on someone with an actual job. I shrugged. Let Brittney think what she wanted. I didn't care.
Brittney glanced around the restaurant. "But about working here, I mean, anyone can do it. It's super-easy. Like acting."
