Chapter 37

The subject is no longer important when the waitress walks to us with the tray full. Just as she did while writing down our order, she details about each sauce and accompaniment of the fried wings, breaded seafood, and cheese balls. When she is about to return to no matter what hell a woman like this can come from, my brother thanks her in the Turkish dialect and ends with the blessed words that Hunter taught.

To my joy, the silicone blonde closes her face and moves away quickly. Either she doesn't have the same cold blood as her colleagues in putting up with the cheeky flirtations of customers, or Hunter may have taught an unforgivable swearing. Anyway, it's wonderful to know that such a woman has an advanced intellect.

"Well done" cantarolo with satisfaction. Next to me, Hunter doesn't even move, pretending total innocence.

Lawrence makes a vulgar gesture with his hand.

"Maybe she's a lesbian.”

Penelope doesn't seem to find it too funny in the comparison, bu