Cobb salad. Caesar salad. Salty, crispy, house-made chips.One of the draws for Walker, and for all others of the male sex, was our head waitress, Bess...Cuthbert. Late 20s, sassy, flirty, sexy, gregarious, smiling, she has a smoked-honey Southern accent and uses it to full advantage.She sat with Walker and me, arm around his shoulders, nipple greeting his arm, lips against his ear whispering, “Baby, ditch Winter. Come upstairs with me. I’ll show you my bedroom.”Walker, in deep blush, the red. She introduced herself and we started talking. Soon, some girl came and pushed her towards her saying “come on, I need to show you something.” She dragged Tisha outwards. While going, she looked back. I smiled and she smiled back.I wanted to talk to her again but couldn’t. She was always with some girls. They had a gang, would always sit together, travel together and all. They all were together always. She was very quiet outside and me, completely opposite. I couldn’t close my mouth once I. More

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