“Samantha! You made it. So glad you’re early. Mr. Beaumont wanted to make sure you let the vendors know that they have to be in character. He wants everyone dressed up. No costume, no admittance. The usual. Also, the band is not to deviate from the list. Halloween songs only. Remember, perfection,” Sara sneered with her upturned piggy nose held high under her witch’s hat.
Fitting costume, I thought.
She turned on her heels and marched toward catering. The tufts of over-bleached-blonde hair bobbed through the back of her ball cap.
Lisa came up behind me, nudging her elbow into my side. “Is it just me, or does that lady always look as if her bottom lip smells like someone gave her a Dirty Sanchez?” her voice lisped from behind her vampire fangs.
“It’s not just you. Although I think if someone were boning that witch, she would probably smile a hell of a lot more.”
“Poor guy. Can you imagine her in bed? She’s probably into that BDSM stuff, except she would be the denominator. Isn’t that what it’s called?” Lisa cocked her head to the side and stood, watching Sara bark orders out to the crew.
“I think you’re mixing up sex with your kid’s homework.” I cringed. “I think the correct word is dominatrix, but I’m not sure. I don’t have experience in that area anymore. I think my sex appeal ran away a long time ago.” I let out a fake, long-drawn-out sigh as if I were hopeless.
But here was the thing. I wasn’t hopeless. I’d decided that tonight would be the night, that I would put myself out there again. I was ready to get back into the dating scene. I had been divorced for five years, and in that time, I’d only had two semi-steady boyfriends. Eventually, I’d given up on both of them and stayed single—and a bit lonely—ever since.
I didn’t want anyone to know that I was putting myself back out there, partly because of my fear of failure and partly because I was only supposed to be at this party to oversee my work—not to scout out potential life mates or one-night stands. I wasn’t opposed to either, and admittedly, I’d never had either—not including Douche Who Must Not Be Named. He hadn’t been a life mate. He had been the worst, and I’d closed that chapter of my life, thank you very much.
“Oh, honey. Take it from me. You’ll be just fine without a man. What are they good for? Just a romp in the hay. Other than that, all you have to look forward to is their clothes on the floor, next to the hamper, and their toenail clippings everywhere but the trash can. I could go on and on. My Earl, he was a mess. But I’m happier now with just me and my girl. If I need some loving, I’ll pick up someone at the bar for some fun.”
“You mean, like a one-night stand?” I stepped in closer to her and lowered my voice. “How do those work? Do you just ask them if they want to fool around? Aren’t you worried about diseases?”
“Yes, a one-night stand. You find a guy you want to screw and start to flirt. And hell yes, I worry about diseases. That’s why you carry condoms with you. Women have to take care of themselves these days. Don’t rely on a man to have protection. You’ll likely get an excuse. I also do my best not to pick up any weirdos. I know; I know. You can never trust anyone, and even the most clean-cut, kind man could be crawling with some bugs in his pants. But it is what it is. It’s a risk you have to consider,” she lisped, reaching up and thumbing her fangs.
“A risk,” I whispered, eyeing the men around us. So far, I didn’t see anyone worth even a pinch on the butt.
“All men are a risk. Women too.” Lisa winked at me.
“Do what now? Women?” I blinked.
“That’s a conversation for another day. The guests will be here any moment, and I have to finish up a few things before Dicktor—I mean, that asshole, Victor, fires me on the spot for not making sure the food was warm enough or because the lighting was too calm and not exciting.” She rolled her eyes and walked away, her long cape billowing out behind her.
I made my final round of inspections, fussing with the napkins, rearranging the skulls at the bar, and checking on the casket. Yes, the casket. Ridiculous. Victor wanted to make a grand entrance, as usual. There was nothing that man didn’t think of, except his employees.
I picked a tiny table in the back corner and sat down to watch the guests arrive. The sun had set, and the lighting crew flicked on their lights. The whole room was awash in a purple glow with lime-green spotlights around the stage and the windows. Dark corners were lit up with displays of pumpkins, graveyards, skeletons, and anything else I had come across on one of my many shopping trips.
I leaned into the table, resting my chin on my palm, and smirked. I’d knocked it out of the ballpark again. I’d worked on this project for months, and yesterday, I had been here twelve hours, setting up. But today—tonight—I was reveling in my awesomeness and enjoying the party.
“Samantha! Mr. Beaumont needs you to call around town and see if you can get some bats, pronto!” Sara waddled over, pointing her clipboard at me like it was a loaded gun.
“Are you kidding me? I can’t get bats here within the next hour or so. I don’t even think you can rent bats. Is he serious?” I put my palms to my forehead and groaned.
This man is going to be the death of me.
“So, I should tell him you can’t?” Sara raised her eyebrows straight up until they disappeared under her hat.
“You can tell him it might not be real bats, but I’ll have something. I’m guessing it’s for his grand entrance?”
“Of course. Have it ready at eight sharp. Let me know if Mr. Beaumont needs to do anything different other than wake from the dead.”
“He won’t. I’ll make his entrance grand. Bats included.” I sprinted over to lighting and sound before Sara gave me another outlandish request. I already knew what I needed to do.
So much for enjoying the party.
I silently cursed alpha assholes everywhere. I couldn’t get away from them.
It took me an hour and a half to get my bat projection ready to roll, thanks to some sweet talk and bribing. Mr. Beaumont would be footing the bill for last-minute changes from both me and my vendors. But when push came to shove, I would get it done. Always. I worked well under pressure even though I hated it. At least, that was what I told myself. Maybe I secretly liked the stress. Maybe I was a masochist in need of a denominator. No math skills required.
I stood in the back of the room as guests filed in one by one. Their costumes were impressive, but that was easy enough when they’d all hired professional costume designers and makeup artists to be at their beck and call. My outfit wasn’t the cheapest. I had known what was expected of me, and so had all of my vendors. Victor had even given us all a costume stipend. Perfection.
I swished my tail around as I waited for Victor’s grand entrance, which would be coming any moment now. The entire party committee knew what to expect once the bells rang, and hopefully, after all was said and done, we could relax and enjoy ourselves—as much as we could relax in his presence anyway.
I sighed as both Sara and Lisa rushed toward me.
“He’s ready. Let’s start it.” Sara nodded at me.
“All systems go. Let’s do it.” Lisa gnawed her lip with her fangs.
“Pete, fire it up.” I gave the command to my sound guy.