Keiko tugged down on her white shirt. Staring over at the other waitresses, she tried to muster up the enthusiasm she needed. It would be a long night, and if she served every drink and crepe with a glum frown, she would probably be fired.
‘What’s the function for again?’ Clare asked as she yanked her straight hair into a ponytail. ‘I always forget. It’s not like we need to know though, anyway,’ she laughed, grabbing a bobby pin between her teeth as she smoothed her hair further.
‘Just shut up and serve the drinks,’ Keiko cracked a grin.
‘Don’t make conversation, don’t ask people how they are,’ Clare laughed.
‘And definitely not who they are,’ Keiko joined in as she played with the top button of her shirt, smoothing her collar until it sat straight.
‘These people are too important,’ they both added together, mimicking the drawling voice of their boss.
‘So where’s Jenny? Busy again?’ Clare finished with her hair, whipping her ponytail over her shoulder as she fumbled her brush back into her bag.
Keiko nodded politely.
‘God you are good to her,’ Clare shook her head as she grabbed her skirt and straightened it. ‘She’s lucky to have a roomy like you.’
Before Keiko could thank Claire, Suzie barked at them to get the trays ready.
The party was about to start.
Keiko glanced out the window of the kitchenette the catering company had been assigned. The party was meant to be in the penthouse apartment, a full two stories above. Yet the guy who’d organized it – an incredibly anal guy according to Claire – wouldn’t let the catering go on the same floor. It would ruin the aesthetic or something.
Which meant they would have to lug the wine, glasses, and trays up in the elevator.
Frowning to herself, Keiko got to work. It was slow business, but eventually the two of them loaded up all of the trays, pushed them down to the nearest elevator, and then made it up to the penthouse apartment.
Which was incredible.
The catering company she worked for was no stranger to expensive gigs. Keiko had been all over the city with it, but this was the first time she’d ever been to Harlow Enterprises. And the top floor was incredible. It seemed that a master craftsman had designed the entire thing. From the color of the paint, to the quality of the marble, to the artwork lining the hall, it was a testament to wealth and taste.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Clare said through her teeth, giving a low whistle. ‘I can see why they didn’t want us to set up the catering up here; every room is probably worth a million bucks. If we accidentally knock over any of the artwork, we are all going to have to go into servitude to pay it off.’
Claire had a point. With the vases, dresser tables, statues, and paintings that lined the hallway, it was a liability to anyone with trays, let alone a catering cart. And the more Keiko looked at it, the more worried she got.
She wasn’t exactly the steadiest woman on her feet. Hardly a day went by without Keiko knocking into something. Jenny called her clumsy, Keiko called it a curse.
As she helped Clare maneuver the cart past a large blue Chinese-looking vase, a fine sweat actually picked up along Keiko’s brow.
‘Dammit, I just realized I forgot one of the trays downstairs, can you run back down to get it?’ Clare suddenly swore.
Keiko nodded her head and turned sharply on her foot. She made it quickly to the elevator and raced in. She made it back to the kitchenette where the catering was being stored, grabbed the right tray, then headed back to the elevator as fast as she could.
The function was about to start, and she knew how much trouble they would get in if everything didn’t run smoothly.
As she leant in to hit the penthouse button, the tray slipped in her hand, and she fumbled to correct herself. She didn’t notice as her finger brushed up against another button in her scramble to stop the food from all sliding off onto the floor.
‘Dammit,’ she mumbled to herself as the elevator reached the right floor quickly, stopped, pinged, and the doors opened, Keiko racing out.
She headed down the corridor, paying as much attention as she could to keeping the tray straight in her hand. The canapés kept on threatening to slip off. Mumbling to herself, it took her until she was halfway down the hall to realize it was the wrong floor.
The paint on the walls was the same, and the artwork was still as expensive and incredible. But it was different. There was no fantastic Chinese vase, and though her shoes still clicked over the clean marble underneath, the pattern was different.
‘Oh great,’ Keiko mumbled.
It was then that the door to her left opened suddenly. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ somebody snapped.
Keiko jumped, giving a soft yelp, the canapés on her tray slipping off and falling to the floor.
The man, his brow crumpled over his eyes, his expression less-than-friendly, cleared his throat. ‘If you’re catering, the function is on the top floor.’
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I just got off on the wrong floor,’ she squeaked, her hands still wobbling as she clumsily held on to the empty tray.
She got down on her knees and quickly crammed the canapés back on to the tray, her hands shaking a she did.
‘This floor is out of bounds to your company,’ the man repeated in a clear, curt voice.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed.
‘Leave the mess, I’ll have somebody from cleaning get to it,’ he snapped.
So with that Keiko pushed herself to her feet, her cheeks possibly redder than burning magma. She turned on her heel, and she practically ran for the elevators.
What a great way to start the night.
But she managed to muddle her way through the rest of the function somehow, without breaking any expensive Chinese vases or pissing off any more fantastically rich men.