It was a typically busy Friday night at Mattia so it took a moment for Seth to notice Hannah angling from the back of the restaurant toward him. She smirked, which normally meant the hostess had a good table for him and was looking for a kickback.
"One person at Table 6 for you," she said.
"You're giving me that look for taking up a table for a single person? He better be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. He towered over Hannah, even if she was wearing heels. It would impact his tip total for the night. It meant she better have a good reason to do that.
"
She
might be," Hannah said, which caught Seth's attention. "Beautiful, well-dressed, and asked for you specifically. Said you came 'highly recommended.' Something you're not telling the rest of us?"
Seth reached into his pocket, pulled out a 20 and slipped to Hannah, who returned to the hostess station to deal with the rest of the waiting customers. Seth angled towards Table 6, trying to see what the woman looked like before directly approaching.
She was seriously attractive, whoever she was. Seth was excellent at figuring out ages, so his gut said she was probably hovering on one side of 40 or the other, but care, genetics and possibly some work had her looking younger than that. Her hair was a wavy honey blonde and dropped a few inches past her shoulders, and it was clear she spent money on it at a good salon.
She wore a black dress that went up to her neck but was snug on top, emphasizing some nice breasts and curves. It flared out on the bottom, showing off enough leg to indicate they might give the breasts a run for the money. The stockings and heels were just icing on the cake. She wasn't giving off a model vibe, so maybe a businesswoman?
Mattia wasn't a Michelin-starred restaurant, but the owner had ambitions. It was an excellent Italian restaurant, and the atmosphere was discreet. You didn't eat here to get noticed; you ate here for the superb food and some privacy. Couples, businessmen, and some local professional athletes were the standard clientele. Single businessmen happened occasionally. Single women who looked like her were unheard of.
Intrigued, he moved towards the table. She looked up from the menu and smiled as he approached.
"Good evening, ma'am. My name is Seth, and I'll be taking care of you this evening," he said. Seth had variants of that introduction. 'I'll be your waiter this evening' or 'I'll be your server this evening.' He made a choice based on instinct, and with a woman like this, who had asked for him specifically, he bet 'taking care of' would work best.
He was right. She flushed a bit and her smile got bigger.
"Please call me Samantha. I know that's a bit unorthodox, but 'ma'am' makes me feel old age is sweeping down on me," she said. Her make-up was also perfect, accenting her green eyes and a shade of red lipstick that could give you bad thoughts.
"Of course, Samantha," he said, not arguing the point. He didn't subscribe to the ludicrous idea that 'the customer was always right,' but he wouldn't make a fuss about this. "Can I get you anything to drink to start?"
"Perhaps you can bring out a bottle of red wine to start?" she said, tapping one of her manicured nails on a Tua Rita Keir 2019, a $250 bottle listed on the menu.
"Of course," Seth said, hiding his surprise.
"I know I'm taking up a table on one of your busiest nights. One of my girlfriends was supposed to join me but cancelled at the last minute. I guess I could have cancelled, but I've been looking forward to eating here for a while. I promise to make it worth your time," she said, shifting her smile from welcoming to flirty.
"Please don't worry about it. You're a welcome change of pace. I'll be right back," Seth said, heading towards the bar.
Normally he would view one person sitting at a table on their busiest night as a sign he'd displeased the restaurant gods. Now he wondered if he didn't have a very entertaining evening ahead of him. How she smiled at him while taking her wine order meant the game was afoot. It was the same one he played every night...the best method to get the biggest gratuity out of whoever he served. After eight years of being a waiter, and the last three at Mattia, Seth was now very good at this game.
Ashley sidled up to him at the bar as he waited for the bottle of wine. In no particular order, they were: the longest-serving waiters at Mattia, the two best waiters, and the two sexiest ones. She was blonde, with a slim build but with large tits that looked like they might be fake if you didn't know better, which he did. The big blue eyes drew you in. Although she stood five feet tall in stocking feet, she was floating around the restaurant effortlessly in her four-inch heels this evening.
"I was going to offer my condolences on Hannah screwing you with a one-person table, but I just walked past, and god damn," she said after placing her order with the bartender. He gave Seth the bottle of red wine and two glasses a moment later. He put one back on the table and got ready to head back.
"She asked for me, apparently," Seth said.
"Really? Ooooh, how intriguing. Don't forget to pump her for details," she said, grabbing her own drinks.
"Slut," Seth muttered so only Ashley could hear it.
"Takes one to know one," she sang back, giving her standard response.
The waiters at Mattia all had the skills you wanted at a top-tier restaurant. Speed, efficiency, and an almost psychic ability to know what alcohol and food the customer wanted. When to be discreet and when to flirt. Seth and Ashley were just that much better at it than anyone else. It also didn't hurt that Seth was 6'2", slim, and very easy on the eyes. He jogged every morning, which was a necessity when you worked at an Italian restaurant. He had black hair, deep blue eyes and a good smile. He got hit on a lot at work by both men and women. The way he figured it, he could be a smug asshole about it or more modest and self-deprecating.
Modest and self-deprecating got better tips.
As he approached Samantha's table, he noticed she still hadn't tucked her legs back under the table, giving him a view that stretched from the $1,000 pair of black and red Louboutins all the way up to her mid-thigh. He'd wager they were garters or thigh-high stockings. She remained focused on the menu but smiled, knowing he enjoyed the view.
He arrived at the table, uncorked the wine, and poured a small drop into her glass. She tasted it and nodded for him to continue to pour.
"God, there's so much I want here, but a girl has to watch her figure," she said.
"I believe you have some grace to indulge this evening if you wish," he said. Which wasn't bullshit. She could eat the menu and would still have a killer body.
"So what do you recommend I should indulge in?" she asked, sipping her wine and looking at him through her eyelashes.
Seth would have to be careful here. Samantha was captivating, and he still had other tables to take care of. The voice in his head was getting louder about this, and he learned the hard way never to ignore it.
"For you, perhaps some sourdough bread and olive oil, then I'm thinking a grilled rapini salad," he said, then paused. "You're not a seafood person, are you?"
"No, not really," she said, clearly delighted that Seth could figure this out. "How did you know?"
"I'm very good at reading my customer's needs," he said.
"Hmmm, that could get embarrassing," she muttered quietly, but not so quiet that he didn't hear.
"Mmmm, then I think either the agnolotti ai funghi or the signorine for the main. We can talk about the desert later if you're in the mood for something sweet," he said.
"Let's go with the signorine," she said. Seth noted it was the more expensive of the two dishes. She was either trying to flaunt some money or genuinely felt bad about taking up one of his tables and was trying to close some of the gap.
"Excellent. I'll get your bread and be back shortly," he said, walking away. He would bet money that she was giving his ass a loving stare.
That's the way the next two hours went. Samantha never devoured her food, but seemed to appreciate each bite of each course Seth brought to her. He kept checking in to make sure she didn't need anything else or to top up her wine glass. She kept finding ways to extend the conversation an extra minute or so. Seth's other tables were getting good service, but Samantha stole the show this evening.
By the time she reached the dessert, reluctantly picking the formaggi over the tiramisu, things were getting heated between them. Her legs, which never made it under the table once during the evening, now featured one of her shoes dangling off a toe. She made borderline pornographic noises when Seth checked how she was enjoying her dessert. He had to take a moment when he returned to the kitchen to discreetly shift his hard cock.
Eventually, all good things had to come to an end. He brought Samantha the bill and returned for the last time with the credit card machine.
"Can I help you with anything else, Samantha?" Seth said. He had been waiting tables long enough that he could have bet his bank account on her response and the look on her face when she gave it.
A slow smile crept across her face as she dealt with the bill. "Oh, I think that'll do...for now," she said.
His bank account would live another day.
As Samantha worked the machine and it printed out receipts, Seth discreetly looked over at his other tables to see if they needed anything while the customer paid. However, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pen magically appear from her red clutch as she scrawled out some numbers on his copy of the receipt. He glanced back down, and she smiled as she slid the piece of paper across the table. He reached down to pick it up and wish her a good evening. That's when her hand rested on top of his. It was the first time she had touched him this evening. He looked at her.
"May I ask you a bit of a personal question?" she said, not moving her hand.
"Of course," Seth said, hoping no one saw her touch him like this. It's not that he would get in trouble, but it might cause drama as customers rarely touched the staff. Seth was a flirt, but a very anti-drama flirt these days.
