Victor (Chicago Blaze 3)

She throws her arms around me in a hug. “You’re my best friend, too, Lindy.” She steps back, putting her hands on my shoulders. “And you’re so much prettier and awesomer than you give yourself credit for.”

I look at the ground. “You’re only saying that because—”

Ari gives my shoulders a gentle shake. “I’m saying it because it’s true, hooker.”

“I’m not saying there’s no guy out there who’d be interested in me. I’m sure, if I really tried, I could get a date. But let’s be real. Victor Lane will never want to date me. He’s a rich, hot professional athlete. He could get any woman he wanted. And I smell like relish and rotisserie weiners. Plus, I’m—”

“Boring!” Bruce’s voice booms in the cavernous arena hallway.

“Oh, shit,” Ari mutters.

“Gonzales,” Bruce says disdainfully, looking between the two of us as he approaches, clipboard in hand. “I expect you to slack off, but Boring, I thought I could count on you.”

“You can. We just stopped for a second.”

He looks at his wristwatch, and then glares at me. “I told you to have every concession freezer stocked by noon. But there are still boxes waiting in the main freezer.”

“We’re working as fast as we can,” I say.

“You’re standing around yapping, which is not what I pay you for.”

Ari rolls her eyes.

“Problem, Gonzales?”

She shakes her head and gives him a fake smile. “No, I just feel terrible for letting you down, seeing as you’re personally paying us and all.”

Bruce just scowls at her for a solid five seconds, and she holds his stare. I start to feel awkward, but finally, he turns back to me.

“Get the stocking done and make it snappy. You need to wipe down all the stainless before tonight’s crew gets here.”

“Okay, we’re on it,” I assure him.

Ari grabs the dolly and we continue down the hallway.

“Why is he such an asshole?” she whispers.

“Stop, we’re not far enough away yet.”

“I don’t care, it’s not like people are beating down the doors for this crap job. He needs us.”

“I guess so.”

Ari arches her brows. “We don’t come to work high, our nails are less than three inches long and we aren’t rude to customers. That puts us in the top two percent of the workforce here.”

“True.”

“Anyway,” Ari glances behind us to make sure Bruce isn’t following, “back to Victor. You have to find a way to see him again, Lindy.”

“I think TV is my only option for that.”

“Girl, you work in the same place he does. Let’s figure this out. Let’s see, you could…casually walk by the locker room when he’s leaving practice.”

“That’s a restricted access area. My badge can’t open those doors.”

“Huh. Okay.” She thinks for a second and says, “I bet Manny’s could. You could rub his crotch a little and get him to loan you his badge.”

“Oh, God. No. Absolutely not. Are you joking!”

“Over the clothes, Lindy. Just a little.”

I cringe and groan. “No way! There will be no crotch rubbing, okay?”

She sighs. “Okay, so...we find out when he’ll be at another VIP event and make sure you get assigned to it.”

“I don’t know. That sounds awkward.”

“Lindy, you think everything is awkward.”

She’s not wrong. But the thought of standing there with a tray of drinks, wearing my stained white shirt, is just too much. I’d prefer my single perfect conversation with Victor to be the only one we ever have. That’s better than forcing another encounter with him.

We get back to the main freezer and put our hooded sweatshirts on, then go in to load up the dolly again. We’re strapping the cases of food in place when the freezer door is pulled open and a woman sticks her head inside.

“Hi, are either one of you Lindy?”

“I am.”

I shift, uncomfortable with being sought out. I hope I’m not in trouble with HR or anything.

“Finally!”

The woman stands aside as Ari and I roll the dolly out of the freezer.

“Yikes, it’s cold in there,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. “Anyway, hi. I’m Caroline, an intern from the PR division. I was told to deliver this note to Lindy in Concessions. I’ve been looking all over for you since yesterday.”

“Oh, I was off yesterday,” I say, taking the paper she hands over. “This is from the PR division?”

Caroline shrugs. “I guess so? All I know is my boss told me to give it to you.”

“Okay, thanks.”

She turns to go, waving at us. “Have a good one, guys.”

“You too,” Ari calls back.

“I have no idea why PR would want to send me anything,” I say to Ari, clutching the note.

“Open it.”

I consider giving her an excuse about how we need to finish stocking the fridges in case this note is somehow embarrassing, but curiosity gets the better of me and I open it, scanning the words.

“No way,” I say softly.

“What?”

I look up at my best friend, grin, and then read her the note.