I push a glass of water her way. “You know drunk Aviana thoroughly entertains me, but I can make this for you anytime.”
“Oh good, because being embarrassed on camera is one thing, but Crosby might not be thrilled if I show my ass at a charity event hosted by his job.” Considering the champagne-sequined dress she’s wearing has no back, I’m not sure if she means that literally or metaphorically. “When is everyone else going to get here?”
It’s still early in the night. Aviana usually makes a fashionably late entrance, but Crosby is part of the auction and wanted to get here early to make sure he knew where to go and what was going to happen. In their relationship, Aviana is definitely the one who flourishes under the spotlight, and Crosby is all too happy to take a back seat to his gorgeous wife. Right now, a few of the rookie players are lingering around the bar, soaking in the attention they are getting without the veterans around, and Vonnie is in the back with her makeup artist getting ready.
“They should be here soon.” I glance at my phone, which is conveniently tucked away underneath my bar. “The event is officially starting in eight minutes.”
“Ugh. This is why I’m always late, I hate waiting.” She rolls her eyes and throws her head back, dramatic responses coming as naturally as breathing to Aviana. “I guess I’ll just have to have another cocktail.”
I can’t help but laugh at her. “Oh, the hardship.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, but she has somehow managed to even make that look like it should be made into a Snapchat filter.
I give Aviana her Dreamsicle and then walk down the bar, greeting people as they arrive and making sure the bartenders I brought in for the night are doing okay.
“This is why I fucking love working here.” Paisley grabs my arm so hard I’m sure her fingerprints will be there tomorrow. She’s practically radiating with joy, bouncing in heels that don’t seem to bother her.
Because I was able to hire other bartenders for the night, I gave Paisley and Tanya the night off and two tickets each for tonight.
“It looks freaking amazing!” Tanya says, looking up at the lanterns, her hand intertwined with her girlfriend’s. “Too bad you have to give this back.”
“Tell me about it.” I’ve already considered asking to buy the lanterns and lights from the company who set them up, but I’m trying not to blow all the money I made from the event before the night even begins.
Something that will be a struggle when Maxwell’s fine self steps foot on that stage.
Dammit.
Maxwell.
I’ve been doing so well at not thinking about him and our almost kiss from last night. Any lingering effects of lust were zapped up the second Ace and TK plopped down on either side of me on the couch and turned on ESPN. Maxwell and I kept accidentally catching each other’s eyes throughout the night, but there was never any heat behind his gaze, and after a while, I started to wonder if I had imagined the entire encounter. Even when I left with TK and Poppy, Maxwell didn’t even give me the hug he gave Poppy. Instead he lifted his hand in the air for a high five.
A fucking high five.
WHAT?
I lay in my bed until I started hearing the birds chirp outside of my windows, trying to dissect everything before I decided I had to shut it down until after the auction. Something I had succeeded at until this moment.
“Hello?” Fingers snap in front of my face. “Earth to Brynn, are you in there?”
I blink hard, shaking my head. “Shit, sorry!”
“Damn,” Charli says, laughter thick in her voice. “Where’d you go?”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night. Now that everything is set up, the adrenaline is fading and I’m tired,” I half lie. “But holy shit, look at you! You look freaking amazing!”
And that is not a diversionary tactic—well, not totally. Charli is pretty. She has big doe eyes and naturally rosy cheeks. She’s petite and somehow manages to have curves, but also a dancer’s body even though she couldn’t keep a beat to save her life—her words, not mine. Her style ranges from preppy to bohemian. But tonight? Tonight she pulled out all the stops and she looks hot as hell. Her hair, which she recently dyed black, is down in loose waves that just graze her shoulders. The contrast between her hair and pale skin is already striking enough, but add her scarlet lipstick and emerald beaded dress, it’s hard to pull my eyes away from her.
“How did you manage to get Shawn to not lock you in the bedroom?” I ask.
“You should see how hot he looks,” she retorts. “I had to pull out all the stops to keep his ego in check. He can’t look all hot and have random people bid to spend time with him without getting a little reminder of who the good-looking one in this relationship really is.”
“Well, mission fucking accomplished.”
One of the controversial rules to this auction was that the wives and girlfriends are not allowed to bid. Vonnie actually had to duck from flying french fries when she announced it. It wasn’t her idea, and after all the calls I’ve had with her while planning this, I know she might be the most pissed-off of all of them. But Mustangs management decided it wouldn’t be a good look to sell tickets to the public for an auction only to have them all lose out to WAGS.
I kinda agree.
Even though I never said that to Vonnie.
What can I say? I like living.
The other plus side of this is the next Wednesday meeting is going to be fucking amazing. I can’t wait to listen to them air their grievances about who won their husbands—which is a sentence I never thought I’d say.
“Thank you,” Charli says. “And look at you! Are you wearing heels?”
My feet hurt so bad that I almost snarl. “Don’t remind me. Vonnie forced me.”
Even though, seeing everyone around me, I might be a little bit thankful. This really isn’t a tennis-shoe-appropriate event.
“Damn right I did,” Vonnie semi-yells, making her grand entrance. And hell, if it’s not the grandest damn entrance ever, I don’t know what is.
Where everyone else is in a cocktail-length dress, Vonnie’s is floor length . . . and bright yellow. It has cape-style sleeves and a slit up the middle of her skirt, and with every step, it moves as if she has a fan blowing directly on her. The deep V cut and cinched waist hug her body perfectly and make my angular body ache for curves . . . any curves at all.
“Yassss, queen!” Aviana slow claps and motions Vonnie to do a spin. “You. Better. Work.” She snaps between each word. “You know the executives of Love the Player are going to lose their minds until you agree to sign on, right?”