“I’m hoping to talk Joe into letting us work the boxes. They tip way better than the beer stand.”
“That’s where we’d be going?”
She nodded, helping carry out a few bags to the van. I took one and followed behind.
She said over her shoulder, “Yeah. All the hoity-toity people are up in the boxes. They give a twenty-dollar tip for us refilling a beer. Such easy money. We’d be lucky to get twenty for the whole night in the beer stand.”
See. Smart and nice. Not many others would bring me along for that type of job.
“Thanks, Cammie.” I handed off my bag to Jer, who was waiting by the van.
He tossed it in, then said to me, “You’re in your blacks tonight.”
Blacks meant we were wearing the Quail’s more formal uniform. Black skirt. White button-down shirt. They resembled a private school uniform, something I’m sure was the point.
Cammie heard. “Serious?”
He nodded. “You ain’t working the beer stands. Joe’s already ahead of you.”
“Nice!” She held her hand up, giving him a high five and turning to me. A wide smile on her face. “Tips for two weeks here we come.” Her grin turned slightly goofy at me. “And thank God he’s sending you. I don’t think I could do a full night in the box with Moore.”
If Cammie was the sweetheart of the Quail, Moore was the opposite. Catty. Bitchy. Jealous. She was all of those things, and I’d been able to mostly avoid her, but I knew that time was coming to an end. I heard she had a mission to get into Dent’s pants, and it was only a matter of time before she figured out how I knew them. So far she just thought one of them had a crush on me, that was the reason they kept coming when I was on shift.
“Okay, girls.” Jer shut the door, going around to the driver’s side. “Grab your uniforms. We gotta go. Boss wants us in the boxes before the ticketholders get there.”
The game was in an hour.
We needed to curtail it out of there, but after changing in the back, Cammie grabbed me. “Sit.” She went to work on me then.
“What are you doing?”
“Sex brings more tips. If you and I both look sexy, that means more money.”
She was loosening my shirt. Nothing was showing, but there was a good swell of cleavage showing. She stepped back, studying me, frowning. Her hands went to my hair and she was redoing the ponytail I’d put it in for the night. Going around me, I was slightly impressed at how quick she worked. Not a lot of girls were braid-savvy, but she had put my blue hair in a loose, reverse French braid. It was meant to look sexily rumpled, and when I saw my reflection in the mirror, I almost whistled to myself.
“Damn. You could do hair for a living.”
She grinned, sitting next to me and tugging on a different pair of shoes. “I’ve got six little sisters and a single mom who works three jobs. Hair duty was like an assembly line in the mornings before school.” She finished, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. “Ready to go and make some moolah?”
God, was I.
Going over, Jer pulled up to the stadium, and we were waved in to go toward the back employee parking area. A bunch of buses were back there, too. Hopping out, Jer told us, “Hold up.” He opened the back door. “I need help carrying all this inside.”
It took six different trips, maneuvering through all the people, even going through the back way and I was sweating up a storm. So was Cammie. She flashed me a smile once we were done, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “There’s a bathroom up there we can use to clean up a bit.”
I nodded. Sounded good to me.
“Okay.” Jer was coming back, holding out two thick, black packets. He handed one to each of us. “Cammie will tell you the pricing, but you guys are your own cash registers up there.”
She took hers, frowning. “You’re not the bartender up there?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m running the beer down here tonight. Another guy’s up there, but you’ll do fine.”
Cammie’s frown was telling me otherwise.
Jer kept on, “Close out after the game or when the box clears out. Joe said that’s up to you, and come down to the beer. I’ll give you a ride back. We’ll be closed before you guys anyway, so I’ll probably head up to help you guys close out, or I’ll be waiting in the van. Check your phones. I’ll send word after the game. Joe wants you both back at the Quail for the rush tonight. It’ll be nuts.”
Cammie nodded, and I didn’t tell her until we were going up a back stairway, “I didn’t know it was even Homecoming this weekend.” I felt stupid about it. I should’ve known that much.
She laughed, getting to the third floor and opening the door. She held it for me. “I’m not surprised, but that’s what I like about you. Some of the guys call you Blue Daze, did you know that?”
She was walking down the hallway, so I was just going with her. “Blue Daze?”
“Yeah, cause you’re always in a daze. You’re like half here, half not here.”
It’d been a week of working at the Quail. Between classes and work, my days were full this past week. So I got it, but she didn’t know that I preferred it that way. I didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt not seeing Stone, and he’d been my self-medicating way to get through everything else. So yeah, the last week, I’d taken on this zombie-way of lifestyle. I got up. Went to classes. Ate lunch. Studied if I had free time before work, then went to work. I studied any free time I had, but Joe had told me firmly that I needed one full day off from working. That’d be on Sundays, so I already had plans to study the entire day.
Being called Blue Daze, I wasn’t too shocked by it. I think I preferred it. They hadn’t called me Dusty since the first night. It’d been Blue ever since.
“This is us.” She nodded to a door.
A bunch of security people were standing outside. Recognizing our uniforms, the guy opened the door for us, a radio in his other hand.
The entire room was busy, but not with the ticketholders yet. Staff was rushing around, cleaning, carrying food to the back kitchenette area and putting out table coverings. A guy was behind the bar and waved us over. “You girls are the servers?”
Cammie took lead, speaking for me, “We are. How many will be in here?”
“It’ll be fucking packed.” He was eyeing both of us, slightly concerned. “You both done boxes before?”
Cammie frowned back. “We load up the trays and walk ’em around. We’re not in charge of getting the food, right?”
“Yeah. No, you’re not.” He motioned to the kitchenette area. It was being turned into a buffet. “You guys have to watch the food. When a dish gets half empty, let me know. I’ll call down for more to be brought up. Mixed drink orders go through me, too. As for shots or beer,” he motioned to the fridge behind him, under the counter, and the tap. “You guys can pour that stuff yourself. You know pricing?”
“Eight, ten, twelve for the beers.” Cammie was half-telling me at the same time. “Bottles are…”
“Twelve.”
She whistled. “Homecoming inflation rate?”
He grinned. “Pretty much. Shots are five even.”