Chapter 24

LIFE GOES ON. AND ON.

Call me sentimental, but I think the holiday season is really all about one thing: money.

Big bucks. Crazy cash.

Well, that’s what it seems to be about at the country club. I’ve been working tons of parties this holiday week and raking in the dough.

I don’t mind the work, to be honest with you. Even servitude has its moments. Brainzilla and I agreed to work both the Christmas and New Year’s gigs. Eggy joins us for a few of the midweek parties. She doesn’t really need the money, but the club is desperate for extra help, and she finds the place pretty humorous.

During the New Year’s party, Brainzilla is everywhere—hostessing, busing, smoothing linens, soothing egos. She never has enough money and always has a million jobs, and the amazing thing is that she’s good at everything. Who’s that Indian goddess? The one with all the arms? Shakti—that’s Brainzilla.

After three straight days of parties, all the country club members start to look alike to me. I have this fantasy that everyone at the club has the same mother. They must at least be cousins, right? What’s the probability of there being that many people with great skin in the same room? It has to be genetics.

“May I have this dance?” Marty Bloom catches my elbow gently and stops me at the edge of the dance floor. It takes me a moment to recognize him. He’s wearing a tuxedo with the bow tie dangling loose, and he looks very James Bond-y and dangerously handsome.

I nod at the tray in my hands. “I’m working.”

“Just one dance.”

“No, really, I can’t—” But he has taken my tray and placed it on the bar. “Okay, I need that back—” Ignoring my words, he takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. It feels strange to be touching Bloom. His hand is warm and large, and I spend a lot of time worrying that mine is small and sweaty, and wishing that someone made hand antiperspirant.

The band is playing some sort of slow swing thing. Marty wraps his arms around my waist, which means that I have no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck, which makes me feel a little dizzy and awkward. I’m so close to Bloom that I can smell the cinnamon scent of his breath. Mints? Gum? He smells delicious.

I catch Eggy scowling at me from the edge of the dance floor. What are you doing? she mouths.

I shrug, and a little shiver runs through me. Bloom is tall, and I’m enjoying standing next to him. He rests his chin on my head, and I feel strangely safe.

And just as I’m enjoying that feeling, someone taps me on the shoulder.