Chapter 3 – Remington
CHAPTER THREE
The Waffle Ho
Remington
“Are you sure this is where you want to eat?” I ask, eyeing the restaurant with suspicion.
“Hell yes,” Minnie says with an enthusiasm I’m not feeling in the least.
I look up at the sign towering overhead. “Waffle Ho?”
She laughs like I’m being silly. “You’re so funny. Some of the letters on the sign aren’t lit. Who doesn’t love Waffle House after hours?”
Um, me?
We enter, and my nose is instantly assailed with the smell of grease and cardiac blockage.
I have to admit, it makes my stomach rumble with hunger.
A hostess approaches. She has a ratty blonde updo with no fewer than six pens sticking out of it at all angles.
And she’s smoking a cigarette. Inside the restaurant.
“Table for two?” she drawls around the cancer stick.
Minnie points to a booth near the front window. “Can we have that one?”
“Sure thing, honey,” the woman, whose nametag reads Elmo, says. I’m fairly certain that’s not her real name because a waitress named Cookie Monster passes by as we’re going to our table.
That reminds me, I should probably tell Minnie my real name.
But what if she recognizes it? The bet was I couldn’t get her to go to the hotel with me, despite not knowing I’m one of the richest men in the nation.
And shit, I kind of like the vibe we’ve got going on.
Not once has she asked me about my bank account or if I could buy her the newest designer purse or if I could get her some free makeup.
Minnie likes me for… me. But I’m definitely going to tell her at some point. I feel a pull to this woman, and I’m a hundred percent sure I don’t want this to only be a one-night stand.
I allow her to choose her seat first and then ask, “Can I sit beside you?”
Her smile is brilliant when she nods. She has one tooth on the right side that barely overlaps the one next to it, and the slight imperfection is perfect in its own way.
Sitting beside her, I pick up the menu. I expected it to be sticky, but it’s smooth and clean, as is the tabletop.
“Waffles or pancakes?” she asks, looking down at the selections.
“Well, we are at the Waffle Ho. I should probably get waffles.”
Minnie snorts and then covers her mouth with her hand. I like her snort. I like her. She’s the most unpretentious woman I’ve ever met.
“Maybe I’ll be a rebel and get pancakes then,” she announces sassily.
We order from the woman named Cookie Monster, and Minnie swivels her body a little to face me. “What’s your favorite thing, Joe?”
“Um, like, on the menu?” I ask, confused.
“No, like, in the world. What do you like?” Her guileless hazel eyes look up at me from her caramel-skinned face. Her hair appears to be a natural red, but her skin tone hints at a mixed race of some kind. Maybe Latina?
“I love golfing. It’s what I do to relax.”
Her head tilts to the side, spilling some of those rich red locks over one shoulder. “Why?”
I wasn’t expecting the question, but my brain doesn’t even have to scramble for the answer. “Because it’s something I did with my dad. I got my first set of golf clubs when I was three, and we would spend every Saturday on the links.”
“Did your brothers go too?”
I shrug. “Not until they were about ten. They weren’t as enamored with the sport as I was when they were little.
They’re still not, to be honest, but they play to be social.
” My mind flits to the wager I’d made with Phoenix earlier.
If I won the bet, he had to play golf with me every weekend for six months. I’m looking forward to kicking his ass.
“I like golf too,” Minnie replies. “My father played.”
I wrap a strand between two of my fingers, twisting and toying with the ends. “Is it your favorite thing as well?”
Minnie twists her lips and shakes her head. “No, my favorite thing is fancy pens.”
“Like Montblanc or Cartier?” I ask, and she laughs.
“Not that fancy. I mean like different colored pens. Pretty ones. I color coded all my notes in school like a nerd.” Her face goes a little dreamy with memories.
“My dad always gave me pens for my birthday, and Santa put some in my stocking every year. Glitter pens, gel pens. Ooh, one year I got metallic ones. You know, the kind that write on black paper?”
Every little tidbit she shares makes me want to know one more thing about her. I can picture a little red-haired girl squealing with delight over a pack of flashy pens, and it pushes a genuine smile across my lips.
“Does your dad still give you pens every year?”
The wistful look on her face tells me I hit a nerve. “No, he passed away when I was a teenager.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer, the warmth of her body pressing against my side. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I know that had to be hard.”
She sniffles a little but her eyes remain dry.
“It was, and at least I still have my mom. She’s the most stubborn woman in existence, but I love her.
” Minnie lets out a little chuckle. “Of course, we get along a lot better since we don’t live under the same roof.
We’re still close though; we live across the street from each other. ”
“I’m glad you have—”
I’m cut off when a group of about fifteen people enters the restaurant, laughing and practically yelling with excitement.
The woman leading the way is in a wedding dress, complete with a long-ass train being carried by two women in fluorescent yellow bridesmaids’ dresses.
The apparent groom is in a black cowboy hat and a rumpled tuxedo that looks like he jumped out of a plane in it.
“Wow, looks like they just came from their wedding,” Minnie notes as we watch them approach Elmo at the hostess stand.
But she was wrong. They proceed to have a goddamn wedding right there in the Waffle House, led by a weary looking clergyman.
I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it, but I still clap wildly, along with the rest of the patrons, when the groom kisses the bride and sets his cowboy hat atop her head.
Minnie leans closer to me. “I’ve seen a lot of things at Waffle Ho, but this has to be a first.”
“It was definitely… a choice,” I say, laughing.
“I’m assuming your brother isn’t getting married at a Waffle Ho tomorrow?”
I chuckle at the thought. “Definitely not. The bride’s father wouldn’t allow anything other than perfection.”
Her eyebrows pinch together. “You don’t seem to like her father. What about the bride herself?”
Doing my best to sound neutral, I say, “She’s very different from Phe. He’s so easygoing, the nicest guy you’d ever meet, and she’s very uptight.”
“Does he love her?” Minnie asks.
My head bobs up and down. “He does, but I worry she doesn’t love him as much. To be honest, she’s a bit cold.”
Our conversation pauses when Cookie Monster brings our food. Grease pools at the bottom of the plate, and I don’t even care. It looks fucking delicious.
We talk and eat, sharing bites of our food and a few syrupy kisses as we debate the benefits of waffles versus pancakes.
“I can’t believe you eat your eggs scrambled,” Minnie says. “Those poor chicken babies.”
I quirk a brow and point at her remaining over-easy egg. “You had them fry your chicken baby.”
She cuts off a bite and chews it thoughtfully. “Yeah, but scrambled seems so much more violent with all the beating.”
I think I’ve smiled more tonight than I ever have in my life.
Even when Elmo and a huge chef named Oscar—of the Grouch variety, I assume—get into a screaming fight.
After which Elmo marches out into the parking lot, followed by Oscar.
When she punches him in the face, I reach for my phone, but before I can dial the police, Elmo and Oscar are making out like nobody’s business.
They return a few minutes later, both of them grinning with Elmo’s neon magenta lipstick smeared all over their faces.
“Well,” I say drolly, “that was unexpected.”
Minnie giggles. “You never know what you’re going to see after midnight at the Waffle Ho.”
I don’t even have to ask Minnie again about going to the hotel with me. As soon as I toss some cash on the table, she links her fingers with mine and asks, “Do you have condoms?”
My cock surges as if she summoned him with those four little words, the dire need pulsing behind my zipper.
“No, but there’s a pharmacy next door.” I remember I told her I was staying in the room, and before she can question my lack of luggage once we get there, I say, “My bag is still in my brother’s room.
” Which is the truth. Only we were all supposed to share a suite at the luxury hotel next to the nightclub.
We enter the all-night pharmacy, and Minnie begins tugging on her dress again. I stop her fidgeting with my hands over hers. “You look perfect, sweetheart.”
In the bright fluorescent lighting, her blush is evident, and it’s about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I wonder if her chest flushes when she comes. I’m damn sure about to find out.
The condoms are locked behind a glass case, and when I call over a clerk and point at the gold and black box containing three extra-large sized prophylactics, Minnie lifts her brows at me.
“A little ambitious, aren’t we?”
I give her a grin that’s admittedly cocky, and I pat her ass. “You won’t be saying that in about ten minutes, Minnie.” Then to the clerk, I say, “Changed my mind. Get me the six-pack.”
After grabbing a phone charger and paying for the items, we turn right out of the pharmacy and walk another block toward the red, white, and blue hotel sign. But before we get there, Minnie stops, her hazel eyes shining.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and she points at the small convenience store before tugging on my hand to lead me inside. “Why are we going in here?”
“Lottery tickets,” she replies. “We have to get lottery tickets after eating at Waffle Ho.”
I don’t ask her why. I simply go with it because it seems to make her happy.