“Gloria, I don’t have the patience for games right now.”
“Is it the hormones?” she asks, grimacing with mock sympathy. “I hear they can, you know… woo!” She twirls a finger around her temple and rolls her eyes. “Screw you right up.”
“What do you want from me to ensure you stay quiet about this?” I ask, mustering every grain of humility I’ve managed to collect over the years. It isn’t much.
Gloria, though, sighs and leans on the desk, looking thoughtful. You’d think I asked her what she wanted for Christmas—which, I suppose, I basically did.
“I want,” she says, slowly, deliberately, “more money, less responsibility. Some easy job where I can relax and look pretty.”
“That’s what you do now, Gloria,” I sneer.
That’s a mistake, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Double my pay. I never touch another rag or broom again, and I get to hire two hostesses to work under me. Don’t worry, I’ll still work—I’ll mingle with guests, take feedback, talk up whatever we’ve got going on. But I want more of a role here. And I want to be the go-to person for the bloggers and critics when they come in.”
She has no idea how close she is to losing a finger, sticking it in my cage like this. It takes everything I have not to fly off the handle right now. “I can’t afford two more hostesses if I’m paying you double,” I tell her.
Gloria’s eyes light up a little bit. We’re no longer arguing, we’re negotiating. She’s quiet for a long moment, and then shrugs. “All right. But I want to be our public face. I’d make a good figurehead for Red Hall, don’t you think?”
“It’s more stressful than you realize,” I tell her. “Are you sure you want that?”
“Um, please,” Gloria laughs. “Can I look good for cameras and smile and tell people we’re so pleased they’re here? Yes, Janie, I can do that. I’m not an idiot, you know. I’m just an opportunist.”
I know exactly what she is and I desperately want to tell her that. “Fine,” I say instead.
“Great! Believe me, Janie, this place is going to take off like a rocket with me leading the charge.” She walks around me, to the door, dismissing herself instead of waiting for me to let her go. The dynamic between us is forever altered.
At the door, she turns, smug in her victory over me. “I’ll give you a week to handle the press release between your mommy appointments. I’ll email you a head shot.”
“Oh, yes,” I tell her. “I definitely need a head shot for you.”
Gloria only winks at me. She doesn’t get the joke.
The final taste-teaser manages, somehow, to go off without a hitch and gain us even more praise in the local food blogs and columns. All night, Gloria flashes me smug looks while she flounces around the lounge, laughing and getting on with guests so loudly that I can hear her constantly. I know that she knows it, and that’s why she’s doing it.
Chester raises an eyebrow at me from the bar, again and again, his usual signal that I should rein her in, and he gets more and more exasperated as the evening wears on. He’s got to be wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
Maybe if I told him everything, he could help me come up with some kind of solution that doesn’t involve handing my pride over to Gloria on a silver platter. But that would be one more person who knows my secret and even though I trust Chester… the more people that know, the closer I am to that critical mass point when this thing explodes across the town.
It gets so much worse when the guests leave, and we’re ready to close down for the night. Chester starts delegating closing duties, which is his job, and which I trust him to do well. He gets around to Gloria, though, and she just smiles at him, and then at me.
Chester looks like he might break a bottle over her head. I would claim she fell, if he did.
But since he doesn’t, I swallow my pride and step in on her behalf. “It’s okay, Chester. Gloria, if you would… just reach out to a few of the bloggers from tonight and make sure they have all the right information, I’d really appreciate it.” It’s all I can say before I literally feel the bile rise in my throat and I’m fairly certain it has nothing to do with being pregnant.
Gloria flashes us both a smile. “Sure thing, Janie. I’ll do it from home. I have all their contact information.”
She waves at both of us, and then gathers her little clutch to leave.
The moment she’s gone, Chester is on me. “What the total fuck, Janie? Did she kidnap your mother? Is she holding her ransom? Is the stress finally getting to you?” He peers at me with concern, and waves his hands. “How many fingers am I holding up? You know what year it is? You remember Gloria? The social-climbing bitch we hate but have to work with because of reasons?”
I want to spill it all so that it makes sense. More than anything in the world, because I could use a hug right now and Chester would give me that.
Instead, though, I lie. “She… handled a press release for me last week and did a good job. I don’t like her, but she has a talent and I’m going to use it. So. That’s all.”
He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t say so. Instead he gives me a short nod and then turns away to deal with the extra work that he and the rest of the staff now have to deal with.
As if it’s bad enough keeping the secret from Jake, now I’m going to keep it from the only man in my life I actually consider a friend.
Great. Just great.