Dean wiped the table with a scowl, nearly knocking over a glass with his elbow before catching it and plunking it down loudly. His cheeks turned red as he spied a few women in sundresses giggling in a corner booth.
“Be right there,” he said, picking up the last of the plates and taking them back to the kitchen. The bus boy hadn’t shown up and since Dean was the manager at the seashell grill, the task fell to him along with his job as a server. In fact, tonight had been all around pretty bad if you included the fender bender he’d gotten into on his way to work and the three missed phone calls from his ex, Lisa, trying to get back together with him. Again.
Dean sighed, wishing he were anywhere but at work. It took a moment, but finally, flustered and flushed from the heat of the kitchen—even with the lazy ceiling fans that swirled above in quiet circles, he made it to the table.
“Sorry about that, ladies,” he said with a wink, turning up the side of his lip in typical beach-boy charm for the customers, even if he didn’t feel it.
A tall brunette leaned forward, ordering a pineapple drink right off the bat, a pink sparkly crown on her head. Dean smirked, noticing the glaze in her eyes.
“Bachelorette party?” he guessed, watching the blonde across from her, discreetly play footsie with a redhead—Charlie, he heard the blonde say.
“Yes!” yelled Charlie enthusiastically, throwing her arms in the air. “Anna is getting married next week,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
All three girls seemed incredibly tipsy and Dean couldn’t help but smile because as shitty as this night had started out, at least he would probably be tipped fairly well at the end of it.
Anna leaned forward, eyes roaming Dean’s fit form. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes when barely, under her breath, she muttered something about still needing a stripper for the night.
“Alright,” he said too loudly, cutting her off. “Three Blue Hawaii’s coming up.”
“Wait,” said Charlie, her voice almost humorously serious. “We should probably wait for the maid of honor, don’t you think?”
Anna smiled and got out her phone, holding up a hand for Dean to wait, then dialed a number, scowling as one of the other girls kicked her accidentally under the table.
Dean resisted the urge to sigh, wishing tonight weren’t so empty in the restaurant, then maybe he could excuse himself from the haze of pink giggles to help another customer.
“Cassie!” Anna practically yelled into the phone at her friend. “Where are you?”