“Five?”
He shrugged. “They’re getting the cheap shit here, but they don’t need to know it. Oh, and we’re only offering these types of shots. Nothing else. We’re a box suite, not a fully functioning bar.” He slid over a piece of paper, and taking it, I saw it was a cheat sheet for what we offered and the prices.
I tucked mine into my pocket.
“No.” He reached behind, grabbing some black aprons to tie around our waist. “Use these.”
They were short, but they would blend in with the skirts. I tied mine on, put the cheat sheet in there, the money on the inside pocket, along with a small pad of paper and a couple of pens. My phone went in the other pocket.
“We good to go?”
Cammie glanced to me. I nodded, and she spoke for both of us. “Load up the first trays. We’re doing champagne?”
“Yep.” He reached around, then swung right back. His hand extended. “I’m Ben, by the way.”
Cammie laughed, shaking his hand. “I’m Cammie and this is Blue.” She gestured to me.
He laughed, shaking my hand, too. “That’ll be easy to remember.” He went back to filling the first glasses when he said, “Oh. These are high rollers, so stay extremely professional. No flirting. Nothing like that. The team’s new GM asked for these guys to come as a personal favor to the team.”
Cammie nodded. “Who is it?”
He was back to filling the glasses when he said, almost casually, “The local Kings. Some of their star players and family. And their coach.”
Cammie’s eyes whipped to mine, but I’d heard. Every. Word.
My life flashed in front of my eyes because this news, well, consider it like a bomb dropped and it just exploded at my feet.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“He won’t recognize you.”
Cammie must’ve known more than I realized, because as soon as Ben dropped that revelation, she pulled me into the bathroom. She immediately began changing my hair all over again, and she was giving me her version of a pep talk. “Your hair is totally different.” She reached into her bra and pulled out a contact case. “Here. We’ll change your eyes, too.”
She was twisting it off, and two green contacts were being pulled out. “Ever had contacts before?”
“What?” I grabbed her wrist. “No. Stop.”
“They’re not prescription. You’ll be totally fine, just maybe not look him in the eyes when he’s here. Yeah?” She shoved the case at me, then reached back into her bra and pulled out a makeup case. “I can contour your face so you’re barely recognizable.”
“No. It’s not him.”
She was readying, opening her makeup, tilting my head up.
“No. Stop.” I grabbed her wrist and stepped back. “I didn’t change my hair because of him. I changed my hair because of everyone else. Those people in the box, if they recognize me it’s not the end of the world. It’s the guys in the bar, back at the Quail. They’re the ones who hassle me.”
“Oh.” Pity formed in her eyes, and I turned away.
I didn’t want that. I never wanted that look.
But stepping back to the mirror, I did wash up a little bit. Carrying everything inside had made me sweat, so after, I felt more refreshed. Cammie hadn’t moved, just watched me. I went to the door, saying, “I’ll see you out there.”
She didn’t respond or nod, but I opened the door and stepped out.
Ben was waving me over, his eyes a little frantic. He pointed to his watch. “They’re coming up soon. Any minute.”
Okay.
I could do this.
Picking up the tray, I went to wait at the door and smoothed a hand down my front, just to help ease my anxiety, but I was good.
This was a normal day at work.
I was still telling myself that as Cammie came out of the bathroom. She picked up her tray, standing beside me. And we heard people coming down the hallway. They were nearing, getting closer. Louder. Louder. Even louder. They were right outside the door.
It was opening.
I could do this.
They walked in.
It was the Kings’ coaching staff first. I recognized them.
A player, Colby. He picked up a champagne glass, said thank you, ran his gaze over Cammie, and moved inside. He hadn’t recognized me.
A few more players, some family members. Or I was guessing. A wife. Girlfriend. Colby didn’t have a date. That was interesting. I couldn’t remember if he was married or not, but then Cortez came in, the Kings’ halfback. Jake was behind him, his arm around a woman. Both picked up champagne glasses, said thank you, and moved on.
No one recognized me.
I slipped behind Cammie, going to the bar. Ben was ahead of me. He had a tray waiting for me, so I picked it up and returned in line.
Head up. Eyes forward. A nice and polite smile on my face. Professional. We were here representing the Quail, but we were also here for the tips.
The door closed, and I kept waiting.
My stomach was in knots.
I was expecting him to come in any second.
Still longer. We waited.
Cammie was done, so she murmured, “I’m going to start the walk-throughs.”
I nodded. I had three glasses on my tray. “Should I wait?”
She opened her mouth.
The door opened.
But it wasn’t who I’d been worried about.
It was worse.
My eyes met hers first, and the polite greeting I uttered, saying, “Welcome!” died in my throat. I knew this woman, had known her all my life. She’d seen me when I laughed, when I bled, when I cried, and she’d been the reason for some of those moments.
Barbara Reeves stepped through the door. She was still slender, but always had been. Her hair was cut short, still a dirty blonde, and she had it styled so it glistened and had good volume. She was dressed how rich people dressed. A white sweater that I knew without touching it, would be the softest material I’d ever touched. She was wearing tan khaki capris and sandals that were woven up her legs. For middle-aged, she was very chic and sophisticated, and I knew I never would be able to pull an outfit like that off, regardless of my age. She was very earthy and woodsy and natural, but I knew she probably spent a fortune to look like that.
Crystal earrings. A diamond bracelet on her wrist.
She was still just as beautiful as ever.
And she picked up a champagne glass, a frosted smile on her face, but she winced as she took in my hair. “Thank you, dear.” She moved right along, not recognizing me just like everyone else.
Ben had moved out from the bar just then. He handed Cammie a full tray of champagne and switched over my last glass, then gave me a tray of appetizers instead.
I held them up, seeing that they looked like a gourmet version of pigs-in-a-blanket.
Barbara had seen and she paused, coming back a few steps. Her eyes were trained on the appetizers, and I knew her. I knew she was hungry, knew she wanted them, but knew she was right now battling herself in her head because she so rarely ate.
So I smiled, my hold steady, and I said clearly, “I mean, it’s not lasagna, but it’s still a little treat.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, and she narrowed them, but any confusion she might’ve had left because in the next breath, Charles Reeves stepped in behind her. “Let’s go, honey. Ooh. Those look delicious.” He swooped in, grabbed a champagne, then grabbed two appetizers. “Damn good.”