Carla Heats up Thanksgiving! Pt. 01

It had been almost a year since Carla had returned to her western Pennsylvania roots and moved back in with her parents, a bit east of Pittsburgh. Her two years living in Ardmer, Oklahoma seemed like a different life now, especially the scandalous behavior she had indulged in just before leaving town. She imagined the local gossips were still telling the tale of how she entertained a few lucky friends at a local dive bar last Thanksgiving.

With this year's Thanksgiving almost here Carla couldn't help thinking about her last few days in Ardmer, as well as her long, eventful road trip back to the Pittsburgh area. "Good thing nobody I know now has any idea about what I got up to that week," she thought, attributing her uncharacteristic run of wild behavior to the stress of leaving her job and moving with no job lined up where she was headed.

Her time since moving back east had been anything but wild. Between her often long hours at her new job in the commercial lending department of Pitt 1st Bank, a small but growing bank based in Pittsburgg, her fairly long commute, and living in her childhood bedroom, she often thought her love life was about as exciting as that of a nun.

Her focus on establishing herself at work was paying off, with her supervisors giving her more and more responsibility. Included with the responsibility came fairly frequent travel, but none to anywhere particularly exciting. Even if the destinations had been appealing, her trips were usually only a day or two long and too tightly scheduled to get out and explore.

When she was tasked with training employees in the equivalent department at a bank her employer had recently bought, she was excited; not only was she being entrusted with an important assignment, but the office she would be visiting was in Miami, offering at least a hope of the trip being interesting. She was sorry to have to miss spending Thanksgiving with her family, but looked forward to a few days enjoying weather almost like summer in Pennsylvania. She packed some summer clothing along with her work outfits.

Carla was able to arrange for her departure to be set for Friday night, giving her some beach time as well as time for some sightseeing before getting down to work the following Monday. Her employer didn't cover the expense of her hotel room for the extra couple of nights, but she didn't mind springing for a room at the off-season rate she was charged. She managed to work in a little bit of shopping, buying some things not even slightly unique to Miami. The Steelers jersey she found in a shop was a perfect Christmas gift for her brother, so she was glad to find it. She counted getting a head start on her Christmas shopping list as a win, and was able to fit it, along with a handful of things she picked up for herself, into her carry-on.

Carla's mini-vacation ended Sunday night as her Uber ride took her away from the restored Art-Deco hotel in South Beach she'd been staying at to a pleasant but generic Hilton Garden Inn several miles from any beach. Her new room was actually a suite, allowing her to treat part of the space as a work area, as she planned to do a few hours of her regular work after dinner most nights.

Once she had settled into her room, Carla went downstairs to the hotel restaurant for dinner. The menu was acceptable though hardly exciting, but the eerily quiet atmosphere was off-putting. With the diners at the only two other tables in use already having dessert, it seemed like she was going to make the staff work late. When her server returned to take her order, Carla asked if she could have the pasta primavera from the restaurant menu served in the bar. He said, "No problem, miss. Come with me." In less than a minute she was seated at a small table in the bar, where at least she could do some people watching and possibly even eavesdrop a bit. The server returned with the glass of Merlot she had ordered before the move.

Carla enjoyed her dinner more than she had expected to. The food wasn't bad, the wine was actually pretty good, and the people watching was way better than it would have been in the nearly vacant dining room. She saw a young couple clearly not happy with each other, a couple who appeared to be in their eighties or older who seemed delighted to be there, and a group of late-middle-aged men in a cluster at the bar. The group of men were laughing and talking loudly enough that she couldn't hear any of her other fellow diners, but they weren't being rowdy. The bits of the men's conversation she could hear made it clear that they'd been friends a long time and enjoyed each other's company.

Wanting to be sharp for what she knew would be a busy day Monday, Carla resisted the temptation to have a second glass of wine after she finished her dinner, heading back to her room to work for a couple of hours. By 9:30 her shoulders and neck were feeling stiff, so she changed into bike shorts, a sports bra, and a t-shirt and headed downstairs to the gym to work out her kinks. Passing by the lobby after a quick workout around 10:30, she was surprised to see the group of gray-haired men still at the bar. "Party on, old dudes," she chuckled as she waited for the elevator. By 11:00 she had enjoyed a long, hot shower and set out her outfit for the next day. She turned off the lamp on the nightstand and was sleeping by 11:30.

Monday's work time went more smoothly than she had expected, with the staff at the bank being acquired eager to learn how their new employer's systems worked. Wrapping up work just after 5:30, Carla could see nothing resembling a restaurant in the office park where she'd been working, and didn't feel like taking a long cab ride to find dinner, settling instead for another dinner in the hotel's bar.

By 6:15 Carla was seated at a small table in the bar. She had just ordered her pan-seared salmon and was almost halfway through her glass of wine when she noticed the arrival of what looked to her like the same group of middle-aged guys in suits who had been there most of the night before. One of them apparently noticed her noticing them, because a few minutes after she looked their way one of the bartenders approached her with a glass of red wine, the same kind she was already enjoying, telling her it was "compliments of the gentlemen at the bar." She accepted the glass with a nod to thank her benefactors.

Carla had been offered a drink at a hotel bar on work trips more times than she could remember, and often accepted, but those offers had invariably been made by a solitary male closer to her own age who she imagined was hoping for a road trip hookup. It never ceased to amaze her how much some men thought buying a woman a drink entitled them to. She'd never been tempted to take any of them up on their offers beyond the initial offer of a drink, but when one of the group she'd been observing approached her as she was finishing her dinner and asked her if she'd like to join the group for an after-dinner drink, she was curious enough to accept, joining the group once she had finished and signed for her meal.

Carla's curiosity increased once she was in the middle of the gang; they were all at least twice her age, mostly not particularly fit or good looking. Her father had taught her how to size up a typical businessman's economic status by looking at their clothing, shoes, and watch; this group seemed prosperous but didn't really show any sign that they were wealthy. They told her they were all partners in an accounting firm, though a couple of them were also lawyers. Without being vain, Carla guessed an impartial observer would say that at least based on appearances, she, a fit, statuesque blonde just entering her mid-20's, was way out of their league.

It only took Carla a few minutes of conversation to recognize qualities in them that most of her usual would-be suitors lacked. They were funny, relaxed, curious about her, appreciative of but not focused on her looks. They were all married, and spoke well of their spouses, with some mentioning how they missed them when traveling; that alone made Carla like them even more, having frequently been the target of husbands looking for a fling. Their very unsuitability as romantic partners made Carla comfortable with them, enough so that she had a second drink with them before saying goodnight by 8:15 PM.

Tuesday's work went well enough, though Carla detected an undercurrent of uneasiness in the local employees, as they worried about whether their new employer would keep all of their office's personnel on once the transition was complete. Carla told them, truthfully, that she hadn't heard anything more than they had, and that she assumed that she wouldn't have been sent to train them if the bank wasn't serious about keeping them as employees. The tension made her glad to leave right on time, getting back to her hotel by 5:30.

Carla intended to go straight to her room and log in to her office's server, but seeing Ed, Eric, Tim, Bill, and Joe already at the bar she joined them. Their banter cheered her up, and she joined them for dinner at the bar. They were complaining about the outcome of the previous night's football game, being long-suffering NY Giants fans. The pounding their team had received from the Buccaneers led to Ed asking her, "You're not a Tampa Bay fan, are you?"

"Nope, born and raised a Steelers fan," she replied.

"Oh, that's okay, then," Tim said, "It's even longer since your team made it to the Super Bowl than it's been for ours!"

"And the Steelers haven't won one in like, forever," Bill chimed in, "You probably weren't even born yet the last time Pittsburgh won one!"

Getting into the trash-talking spirit, Carla shot back, "Wow, you guys are being kind of mean. I guess that's what having to cheer for a team under.500 does to some people."

The good-natured ribbing went on throughout her dinner and a couple of rounds of drinks, with Carla exhausting her knowledge of which teams were doing well and which weren't pretty quickly. Her companions knew way, way more than she did about most of the league's teams, their players, and how the next few week's matchups would affect the upcoming playoffs. Rather than let them mock her lack of detailed football knowledge, Carla tried bluffing her way through the conversation. Ed and Tim saw through her attempt to fake it, testing her by asking several nonsensical questions about various teams, including her Steelers. She took the bait, trying to bullshit her way through with equally nonsensical answers.

Around 9:00, Carla announced that she needed to get some sleep.

"Carla, you're fun to have around and all, but you've been such a party-pooper, leaving us so early every night," Tim complained

"Dude, I like a late night out as much as anyone," Carla protested.

"Says the woman who's tucked in before the 11:00 PM news!" laughed Ed.

"I can be every bit as wild as you guys, believe me!" she answered.

The men all laughed. Ed finally replied doubtfully, "If you say so."

"Well, I'm guessing none of you have ever stripped naked in a bar," she shot back.

Their laughter stopped; Tim broke the silence, asking, "Are you saying you've done that?"

"Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did, once. It wasn't as crazy as it sounds, it was just me and a couple of friends there." she answered, blushing, "I made a bet on the Cowboys game last Thanksgiving which went bad because of that freak play at the end of the game."

"Okay, you win. You might go to sleep earlier than we do, but you clearly have a wild side," Ed admitted.

His companions all agreed, bowing to her while saying, "We're not worthy!"

Eager to change the subject, Carla got the guys talking about their beloved Giants. She stayed for one more drink, then told her companions she really did need to go. As she was about to leave she asked, "so, as I came in tonight I noticed a sign saying the bar is closed for Thanksgiving. What do you guys plan to do with yourselves without this place to hang out in?"

"Probably just find a sports bar, drink beer and eat mediocre pizza," Bill said, not sounding very enthusiastic, "would you like to join us?"

"Not my sort of scene," she replied, thinking about a couple of times she had visited a Hooters knock-off bar with her ex-fiance. "In my experience, those places are usually noisy and full of drunk dudes, I think I'll pass." Though she had no interest in spending her day at a sports bar, she also wasn't looking forward to a full day of hanging around her room by herself. She had been thinking about an idea for how to make the day more fun for herself and her new buddies, and made them an offer. "My employer put me up for the week in a suite, with enough room for you all to come watch the games if you'd like. If you can stand to miss the waitresses wearing booty shorts, I'd be willing to spring for some higher quality pizza and wings to be delivered if you bring the beer!"

"Sounds pretty good, but we like to make the games more interesting by having a little bet or two on a couple of games, and at a bar, we can usually find someone interested in doing the same," Ed answered, "Can we think it over and let you know tomorrow night?"

"Sure, see you then!" she replied, hoping they'd take her up on her offer.

Nursing a mild hangover Wednesday morning, Carla made it through Wednesday's training sessions, but was glad to be done when 5:00 PM finally arrived. With no work to worry about getting up for in the morning, she was happy to join her new buddies for a steak and a glass of Cabernet at the bar. She enjoyed chatting with them and accepted a couple more glasses of wine. By 8:30 she was beginning to get tired and told the group she was about to leave and asked if she'd be seeing them the next day.

"We're in if you can at least make a few small bets with us to back up your misplaced confidence in the Steelers," Tim answered, "We're thinking $200 each, with us betting that your team loses."

"Hold up there!" Carla replied, "I'm not exactly making a huge salary, and I'm trying to save up enough to move out of my parent's house. I really can't afford to lose that much!"

"Well, how about just $100 each?"

"That would still hurt, my car needs work and my bank balance is barely going to cover it as it is," she replied.

"Any less than that and it's just not much fun for us," Bill added.

"What if," Eric said, grinning, "you bet the same thing as that other bet you told us about?

"Bet my clothes? No freaking way! I've learned my lesson about doing that; one screwed-up play could be enough to leave me naked!"

"How about if we each bet $200 against your clothes, with you not even needing the Steelers to actually win," Eric said. "Instead of being vulnerable to one freak play like that other time, as long as they score at all that day, even if their opponent scores 100 points, you win." A couple of the guys grumbled about how much the odds were in her favor with this offer; the Steelers weren't a great team, but they didn't often go scoreless either. Eric reminded them that the bet was just meant to make a game they didn't care about interesting, which seemed to satisfy them.

"I'm not saying yes, but just so I understand what you're proposing, you're saying that as long as Pittsburgh scores, anything at all, even if they lose 100-2, you'll each give me $200? And the only way I lose is if they don't score at all? Do I have that right?"

"Yeah, that's right. You only lose if they don't score, and even then you wouldn't lose any cash, just the use of your clothing for the duration of the following game." Eric replied.

Carla felt goosebumps hearing that if she lost the bet she'd have to stay naked all the way through an entire game. The image of her sitting around in the nude with her new friends refused to leave her alone, but didn't keep her from focusing on finding out exactly what the men clustered around her had in mind. She pressed them for details, asking, "If I do somehow lose, just what are you expecting me to do? If you've got some lurid porno fantasy going, forget about that right now."

Eric tried to reassure her, "No ma'am, nothing like that. For married geezers like us, just getting to see an intelligent, beautiful young lady like you without any clothes on would be a big deal. Maybe you could take care of serving us our pizza and drinks, but that would be about as wild as it might get."

"I may be crazy, "she said, "but a shutout seems like a pretty long longshot, so I'll risk it! You guys are going to have the privilege of helping me get together enough cash to finally move out of my parent's house!"

Having two lawyers in their group, the men had Joe write up the terms of their bet on a couple of bar napkins, and the gray-haired gang all signed it. Carla was hesitant about putting her name on the improvised document, but signed after Joe told her it was only for reference tomorrow if there was any doubt about the terms of the bet, and that she could have custody of the only copy of the contract. She looked it over and confirmed that it matched what they had talked about, then signed it. Her hand shook a bit as she put her signature on a contract which, however unlikely, would require her to strip naked in full view of a bunch of men she hardly knew if certain conditions were met.

Both sides of the unorthodox bet celebrated with a shot of the best Tequila the hotel bar had to offer and made their plans for the following afternoon. "What time should we arrive?" Bill asked.

"I think the first game starts at 12:30," said Eric.

"But I'm sure Pittsburgh isn't playing in the early game," Ed added.

"I'm embarrassed to admit I haven't checked the schedule," Carla replied.

"It's really not important," Tim said, "we'd all like to come for the first game anyway, and stay for the other two if that's okay with you."

"Sounds good," Carla replied enthusiastically, "I'll have our lunch delivered around halftime of the first game."

More than slightly buzzed, Carla and her gang left for their rooms. Carla was surprised by the size of the tip Ed left for the bartender, but thinking about how long they'd all been drinking thought maybe it wasn't so unusual after all. The men wished her a good night's sleep when she got off the elevator on the 4th floor; they continued to their rooms on the 6th floor.

Carla slept well, but not until after 3:00 AM. She worried about precisely what she had agreed to, reading the two-napkin contract a few times to be sure of the meaning of the clause which was making her anxious. "I only see one way to interpret it," she thought, and smiled a nervous smile.

Setting the napkins down in front of the TV, she moved on to picking out her outfit for the get-together. She set out her pink running shoes and matching no-show socks, a purple thong, and a red lace bra, both bought just a few days ago at a shop in South Beach. She dug through her suitcase for her black silk skirt, the shortest of the four she'd packed, unused during the trip because she found that the women she was training all tended to dress more conservatively, and the Steelers jersey she had bought with her brother in mind. "A little sexy, but not too blatant," she thought, finally slipping into bed.

A half-hour after she slept through the 11:30 alarm she had set on her phone, Carla crept out of bed and hustled into the bathroom to shower and shave her legs. In a spur of the moment addition to her grooming, she did away with most of her pubes, leaving a narrow strip, barely enough to prove her long blonde hair was her natural color.

Showered and groomed, she had just finished drying her hair when she heard someone knocking on the door to her suite. She wrapped herself up in a towel and checked the peephole. It was Ed, apparently on his own. "Funny, I thought you guys always traveled in a pack," she said as she let him in. On her way back into the bathroom, she scooped up the clothes she'd set out the night before, adding one more item as an option, a long-sleeved gold button-down blouse.