Tino, the owner and maitre d' at Valentino's Italian Bistro, gently draped Sasha and John's coats over his forearm and held them out to the hostess. "Please hang these while I seat our guests." He instructed her.
"Signorina?" Tino offered Sasha his elbow, through which she hooked her arm, and he escorted the couple to their usual corner table at the intersection of the two burgundy leather banquettes, John following behind them. Tino pulled the table out from the corner so Sasha and John could seat themselves, and then unfolded their napkins before placing them in the diners' laps. Sasha's short black cocktail dress had slid far up her hips as she sat, and Tino draped her napkin softly over her exposed upper thigh.
"So nice to see you both this evening -- we're always excited when you come. Would you like the usual?" Tino asked?
"Yes," John replied, "a bottle of pink champagne, per favore. No hurry."
"I will tell your server, please enjoy." Tino said, giving the couple an exaggerated wink before returning to the hostess stand.
"It's nice to be regulars and get the VIP treatment, isn't it?" Sasha asked.
"They like us here." John replied. "And the feeling is mutual!"
Shortly, the server delivered their champagne. He opened the bottle with a napkin, poured them two glasses, wrapped the bottle, and shoved it down into the ice in the chiller by their table.
Moments later, Tino returned, his own glass in hand. Sasha and John could smell the bitter amaro as Tino pulled up a chair to join them.
"May I?" He asked.
"Sure," answered John, "To what do we owe this treat? What's new? Where's Gino tonight?"
"Gino has the evening off. He'll be sad to have missed you both." Tino winked again at Sasha, and she smiled and blushed.
"I came over to talk to you because I have a favor, maybe more of a proposition, really, to ask of you." Tino stated.
"For you, anything." John said.
"Next Friday is our annual investors meeting in the private dining room in the back." Tino explained. "Normally, we have Emmanuella serve -- she is our very best server. I'm sure you agree."
"We love her." Said Sasha, "She's always so warm and attentive."
"Exactly -- and she knows how to work the money-men and send them home stuffed and happy." Tino agreed. "The problem is this: she's leaving tomorrow for a two-week trip home to Napoli. I didn't think through the calendar when I approved the time off. My mistake. Now I've got nobody but Giuseppe and Alberto to work as servers. I can't spare them from the main dining room, and even if I could, they just cannot deliver the experience that the investors are expecting."
"That is a conundrum." John commiserated. "But how can we help?"
"Well, it's really mostly Sasha's help I am hoping for. I was talking to Gino about this situation, trying to figure out whom we could ask to fill in for Emmanuella, and he suggested you, Sasha. I know you are a professional person, not a waitress. But I would compensate you well - $1,000 for the evening. Four hours at most."
Sasha gulped. Over the last year, almost every time she and John saw Gino at the restaurant, they were sitting in this very corner, Sasha bottomless, secretly flashing Gino her beautiful half-Asian pussy under the table, spreading her legs, fingering herself, letting Gino watch. Sometimes even letting Gino touch. Sasha knew that Gino was hot for her, but she wasn't sure why Gino thought a waitressing job would be right for her.
"This town is full of waitresses looking for work. Why me?" Sasha asked.
"Gino adores you -- you know this. And I will be honest, he told me some time ago about your, how should we say it -- 'arrangement.' He's should have realized I would notice all the pink champagne and crème brulé that he was comping you. When I confronted him, he confessed."
"Oh god, I am so embarrassed." Sasha moaned, her eyes wide with shock, her face turning beet red.
"No, no -- it is ok! It's totally ok!" Tino placed his hand reassuringly over Sasha's. "That was months ago. I have allowed it to continue. It's important to have regular customers -- and if they are an attractive couple like you two obviously are, so much the better. You two have brought a good energy to the restaurant. And that's mostly why I want you for this job -- you are so cheerful and positive. Warm, but clever. You melt hearts with that beautiful smile of yours, Sasha. Gino said he thought you had worked as a server in college, and we both thought you would have the experience, the attitude, the charm to mollify a room full of arrogant restaurant investors. And the smarts to hold your own with them."
Sasha was comforted by Tino's warm touch and kind words, and relieved to hear his warm explanation. She was also flattered. Though still embarrassed that Tino knew their secret, she felt the tension in her belly ease. Smiling at Tino, she thought to herself 'He said that I am beautiful.' She leaned forward and gave Tino a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you for saying that, Tino." Sasha said. "That's very kind of you. We have speculated whether anyone else knew, but just assumed it was only Gino. So, this is the investors' annual meeting?" She asked.
Tino nodded and sipped his amaro.
"And how's business?" She continued.
Sasha was no dummy. She had an MBA in finance and worked with lawyers and bankers and investors every day. She knew if the annual report was bad, the investors would not be in a good mood, and then nothing about this gig would be pleasant.
"You ask the smart questions." Tino said. "Business has been spectacular. Revenues are up, reservations are up, profits are up. Maybe it's a coincidence, but I think you are our lucky charm. So, Gino and the chef are working together on a very special menu for the investors, and I think they will be ecstatic. If all goes well, I'll be able to give Gino and the other staff a little raise. So, what do you say? John, may I conscript your girlfriend for one night to serve dinner to four wealthy restauranteurs?"
"It's not up to me," responded John "it's Sasha's time. I certainly don't mind, though. I know we don't have any plans that night."
"It's not like we need the money," Sasha mused, "but on the other hand, it's hard to turn my nose up at $250 an hour. That said, we'd probably end up just spending it all here anyway." She laughed.
Tino could tell that Sasha was vacillating. He wanted this half-Asian stunner for this job and didn't want her to get away without agreeing.
"I tell you what." Tino said. "I'll sweeten the deal. Once you do this, you will be like part of the Valentino's family. You two can have the staff discount -- half off -- for as long as I own this restaurant. You can even have the discount tonight, if you say yes."
John cocked an eyebrow and looked to Sasha, as if to say silently 'That's a pretty sweet offer.'
"Ok, I'll do it. Here's to Sasha the server!" She enthusiastically raised her glass to John and Tino, who toasted her.
"To Sasha the server!" Both men said, clinking their glasses.
"I will leave you to your dinner." Said Tino. "I cannot thank you enough -- this means a lot to me. I know my investors will be in good hands. Grazie -- molti grazi."
"Tino," Sasha said, almost whispering, leaning in towards him, "can I ask a question?"
"Anything, my dear. What is it?" Tino responded.
"Are you and Gino expecting me to expose myself to the investors? That's not what this is about, is it?" Sasha whispered to Tino.
"No, sweetheart. No. These men, they need a server who knows how to make them feel important and special. One who knows which side to serve a plate from. Who will keep their glasses full, laugh at their jokes, and send them home satiated and smiling. This is the service that Emmanuella provides, and whatever you can do to make that happen, I will be in your debt." Tino gave Sasha a reassuring pat on her thigh.
"Thank you, Tino." Sasha responded with relief. She placed her hand over Tino's and squeezed. "And thank you for not firing Gino!"
"Fire him? I wish I could promote him!" Tino laughed. "Business is good!"
Tino stood and excused himself. The couple devoured their meal, Sasha all atwitter about her little waitressing gig. She spent the dinner studying the servers, and reminding herself out loud of all the details that go into being a good waitress: what goes where, when flatware is removed and replaced, how often to refill glasses, where to stand to be out of the way, how to summon the bus boys, how to talk to the chefs. Once or twice over the course of the evening, Sasha caught Tino looking towards her from the host stand, and she would separate her knees to give him a momentary view of her warm pale brown slit visible through her transparent lace thong. Tino seemed less zealous than Gino to get a peek, but Tino would smile and give a nod of gratitude when Sasha did show herself to him.
'Tino likes my pussy, but he's not a lech. That's good.' Sasha thought.
The couple finished their meal, paid their (discounted) check, and stopped briefly at the host stand to say goodnight to Tino.
"Gino will call you tomorrow or the next day to finalize the arrangements. Thank you again Sasha. Thank you too, John. I will see you next Friday, Sasha. Have a lovely weekend. I cannot express what a relief it is to place this event in your hands. I will see you next Friday."
"See you!" Sasha said, giving Gino an Italian farewell -- one kiss on each cheek.
The week flew by. The work days seemed to pass in minutes, and Sasha spent her evenings researching the duties of a fine dining server, and planning her outfit. Before she knew it, the week had passed. She cut out of her office a little early on Friday in order have time to change and get to the restaurant by 6:00 PM. The investors were to arrive at 7:00, and the dinner was expected to end at 10:00.
"Wear something sexy, but not not over the top." Gino had advised her. "White shirt, black skirt. Short, but not too short. Your legs always look amazing in heels, but it is hard to wait tables in heels for hours -- most waitresses wear running shoes. But it's up to you."
Sasha stripped naked and stood before her bedroom mirror. She had laid her clothes out on the bed: a white cotton button down shirt with a man's collar; a tight but stretchy black pencil skirt -- more of a mini skirt -- that landed mid-thigh (high enough to show off her long tan legs, low enough not to be salacious); no bra because Sasha's breasts were small and the shirt was opaque -- she figured she'd be covered enough, and if the investors saw a nipple pressing against the starched cotton, who knows -- they might just appreciate it; and a pair of low-heeled pumps -- not as comfortable as running shoes, but far sexier, while still more comfortable than her stilettos. No tights or stockings. And concealed under the skirt, a black cotton g-string ('No panty lines tonight,' Sasha thought).
She stepped out of the bedroom and twirled for John. "You look extraordinary!" He said. "If you were my waitress, I'd seduce you and take you home with me!"
"Good thing, since I live here." Sasha joked.
"Sasha?" John spoke her voice quietly.
"What is it, baby?" She cooed.
"I've been thinking. I'm not sure I believe Gino and Tino that they're not expecting you to show these investors some skin." He said.
