I was bothered, but only because I’d gotten a text from Kell right before arriving for the job.
Miranda says she’ll give you your job back if you can close for her tomorrow.
I rolled my eyes at the message and shoved the phone in my pocket as I trudged toward the back gate of Lola Maxwell’s mansion.
I appreciated Kell for reaching out and trying to make something work on my end. Though I couldn’t really blame him for putting his priorities first, it was bad timing and I wasn’t ready to forgive the situation yet.
Because of that measly message, I was off my game that night. I normally could dance through a crowd with a full tray in hand like a ballerina, but I kept bumping into tables and walls to get out of the way of the guests.
Some of them frowned at me. Others were so drunk they laughed. I thought about what Shelia said earlier about hiding in one of the bathrooms until it was over, but there was a woman in charge named Abby who was keeping a close eye on all of the waitresses to make sure we were actually doing our jobs. I thought she was kidding when she said she’d be watching, but Abby was like a hawk. Every time I felt eyes on me, I’d look to find them and would see her watching and nodding with a clipboard in hand.
“How about another drink on the house?” I asked a White couple standing near the dessert bar.
The woman, in pearls and a tight black midi dress, quickly placed the mini fruit tart in her hand down on a plate on the table next to her. She reached for a champagne from my tray and grinned. “Keep them coming, girl! It’s so humid out here I might faint!”
I laughed on cue but wondered why she was drinking so much if she was hot. Liquor was only going to make it worse. I almost started to ask her if she wanted a water, but our mission as waiters and waitresses was to get people drunk, according to Abby. The drunker someone was, the more money they’d shell out.
My eyes shifted to the chubby man next to her. “Don’t tell me you’re going to babysit that one?” I teased, nodding to the half-empty tumbler in his right hand.
The man broke out in a drunken laugh and said, “Actually, if you can believe it, this is my third one!” Then he swiped a champagne, spilling some of it on my sleeve as he did. I pretended it didn’t happen and allowed the good times to roll, like good waiters do. “Good thing I’m not driving tonight, huh?” he chortled.
“That’s right! I’ll be sure to keep them coming for you guys!”
They thanked me in an overexaggerated manner and I turned around, only to see Abby standing a few steps away, looking at me. Why did it feel like she was watching me the most? It was like she could sense my I’m only doing this for a check mood. She bobbed her head toward more people, and I nodded before turning away and rolling my eyes with a suck of my teeth.
I really had to work for that money that night and it felt harder than usual. All I kept thinking about was Kell and Ana. Ana talking to him, facing him with worried blond brows as he spilled his grief about me. He was probably talking to her at that very moment, complaining about how I hadn’t texted him back about the job with Miranda and then going on about how I walked out on our lunch. And fucking Ana—she was probably nodding and cooing “Aw, baby,” while clasping his hand in hers. He’d share his guilt, she’d let him get it out, and then the subject would change. Just like magic, he’d forget until he thought of me again and, slowly but surely, that guilt would fade and he’d accept that it was the right thing to do.
“Hey—you!” Abby marched my way, pointing a pen at me. “I need you to take more champagnes to table six. Lola’s husband is about to share a toast and some of the guests are running low.”
“Yep. Will do,” I said, but Abby had already turned away to talk into her headset. I rolled my eyes and faced the bartender and Ben’s cousin, Roger.
“Stack ’em up, Roger,” I said, slapping a palm on the counter.
Roger went straight to work, lining up glasses on my tray and then uncorking a bottle of the expensive champagne with a loud pop. He filled them up until the froth reached the very top, and I was surprised none had spilled over.
“You’re good,” I noted.
“Why do you think they chose me to get paid ninety an hour tonight?” he said with a smirk.