Victor (Chicago Blaze 3)

It takes a few seconds for the shock to register. By the time I finally step out of the ICEE’s path of destruction, everyone is staring, slack-jawed. A few glances go back and forth between me and the machine.

Suddenly, everything stops, the machine’s humming motor going silent. Ari steps out from behind the machine, the power cord in her hand. She’s glaring at Bruce.

“You believe her now?” she asks, a hand on her hip.

The gazes of my coworkers are all locked on me. There’s ICEE juice everywhere. I look down. My bra is soaked, its outline definitely visible through my wet, white shirt. My hair and face are drenched and when I reach up to wipe my face, my hands are dripping, too.

A snicker soon becomes a wave of laughter. My treacherous coworkers are getting quite a kick out of my situation. My face warms as I wish I could disappear.

“I’ll have it looked at,” Bruce says as he places a WET FLOOR sign in the middle of the mess on the floor. “Go get cleaned up, Boring. Don’t be late for the event.”

Ari’s dark brown eyes are big and round as she glares at our boss’s back. She shakes her head and mutters, “dickhead,” then turns to me.

“Come on, you can wear my dress shirt,” she offers. “I’ll help you clean up.”

I sigh softly and give her a grateful look. “Thanks.”

“We’re gonna need lots of towels.” She opens the lid to the clean towel bucket and fishes around inside it, her brows lowering in confusion. “It’s just the sanitized water.”

I laugh, remembering then that all the towels are in the basement dryer. When I tell Ari this, she smiles weakly.

“Is that a ‘this is funny’ laugh or an ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ laugh?” she asks me.

I shake my head. “I have to be at the VIP thing in fifteen minutes, and look at me.” I drop my gaze to the reddish-brown tile floor, wishing it would swallow me up.

“Let’s get to work, then,” Ari says, opening a napkin dispenser and grabbing a giant stack of cheap, toilet-paper thin napkins.

She’s a gorgeous Latina with big eyes, ample breasts and silky-smooth long hair—can it get any more intimidating. Ari is everything I wish I could be. But if I can’t be her, at least I can have her for my best friend.

“He should’ve given you the night off, for fuck’s sake,” she mutters as we walk toward the employee break room, where our lockers are.

“Ari, don’t,” I whisper urgently. “It’s not worth getting in trouble over.”

Bruce has an uncanny knack for busting us having conversations about him. I glance in all directions to make sure he’s not listening right now.

“Fine,” Ari says tightly. “Ese Bruce no es mas que in mama huevo.”

She must be really pissed—that’s when she insults people in her native tongue.

We walk into the locker area, which is safe since it’s only for female employees.

“What’d you say?” I ask her in a low tone.

“I called that cocksucker a cocksucker.”

I smile as I look in the mirror affixed to the wall above the sink. My lips part with surprise as I realize I look worse than expected.

“Oh my God,” I say, staring at my reflection in shock.

There’s dried blue concentrate on my arms, neck and face. My hair is partially wet and my shirt—

“Gah, crap!” I grab it and pull the soaked fabric away from my chest, because it was leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You’ll be fine,” Ari says, wetting some napkins and wiping my arms. “Get that shirt off.”

“What about my bra?” I give her a panicked look.

She grins. “I can’t help you there. But I’ll give you the tank top I’m wearing to put under my white shirt. That should help enough.”

I close my eyes. “You’re a lifesaver, Ari.”

“You’ve saved my ass more times that I can count.”

Taking a deep breath, I start unbuttoning my sopping wet shirt. “It’s our job to be invisible. No one’s going to notice me.”

“Right,” Ari says brightly. “You’ll be fine.”

“I won’t even care if people look at me, as long as—” I take off the shirt and cross my arms over my bra-covered breasts, self-conscious about even Ari seeing me semi-clothed.

“Mama, you ain’t got nothin’ I haven’t seen before,” she says, amused.

“I know, it’s just…how I am.”

“What were you saying?” she asks as she wipes at the back of my neck. “As long as what?”

“Oh. As long as Victor’s not there.”

I practically whisper it, because no one in the world but Ari knows about my longstanding, deep-seated crush on one of the Blaze forwards.

“You’ll be fine; stop stressing.” Ari walks over to her locker and turns the combination lock, opening it and taking out her shirt.

“Maybe I should look at the guest list before we go.”

She gives me a mock stern look. “Don’t.”