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I BALANCED THE TRAY on my hand and then thought better of trying to show off. I had already proved about a hundred times tonight that there was no reason for me to do that, given I was working with a complete lack of skill when it came to this type of work.
Maybe two weeks waitressing at a pizza place hadn’t really been enough to cover for all the talent I would need to manage a job like this one, I was starting to realize. I was pretty sure I stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone else around me seemed totally confident, totally sure of what they were doing, and here I was, staggering around like a lost puppy with no idea how to make a cocktail or where the toilets were whenever a guest asked me for help.
Right now, I was managing some canapes, which seemed to be about the limit of my skills right now. I had been given some drinks to take out to people, but, of course, I had managed to drop one down the front of a jovial older man, who didn’t seem to mind that much.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I gasped, feeling my cheeks starting to burn as I watched the gin and tonic drip off the end of his tie.
“These things happen,” he replied with a shrug. He was already pretty florid around the cheeks, and I wondered if he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t even mind.
“Let me get you a towel,” I muttered, and I darted back off to the kitchen to find something to dry him off. Of course, I managed to stumble into the men’s bathrooms first, because I had no idea how to find my way around this place, but I eventually managed to find my way to the kitchens and then back into the main event area, where I could fix my mistakes from before.
As soon as she had seen me spill that drink, the woman who had been smoking outside—the one who seemed to be running this show—pulled me aside and ordered me to carry the canapes instead.
“Two hands on the tray,” she warned me. “Don’t try to show off. Just make sure that people are getting what they came here for, okay?”
“I will,” I promised her. Thank goodness the contract hadn’t said anything about only getting paid if I had done a good enough job, because I was quite sure this woman would have denied me what I was owed if she could have. Hell, I could hardly say I blamed her, all things considered. I wasn’t exactly doing the most impressive job this evening.
The food looked good, and my stomach was grumbling under that fancy uniform pretty much the entire night. Most of the people here looked as though they hardly acknowledged my existence, and I tried not to let it get to me. I was just staff, after all—it wasn’t like they were meant to be bending over backward to prove how happy they were to see me or anything.
I tripped over my shoes again as I headed back to the kitchen to stock up on more canapes and tried not to let anyone see it. Man, I was bad at this. I really thought that waiting was just something anyone could do, but I would never look at someone serving me the same way again. If I could ever afford to eat out at a restaurant again, of course, which was looking less and less likely with every passing moment.
I glanced over at the woman who had brought me in here, wondering how in the world she hadn’t told me to get the hell out already. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. There was something so off about me compared to everyone else, and I promised myself it would be the last time I ever put my name in to a temp agency without checking the kind of services they provided. I would need to go back and update my resume, add on the fact that I was pretty dreadful when it came to anything to do with service. I wanted to be useful, wanted to prove myself, but I knew I was hanging on by a knife edge right now.
Back in the kitchen, I loaded my tray up with more canapes and fought the urge to pinch one for myself. If I had been doing a good job, I might have gotten away with rewarding myself like that, but I knew if someone caught me doing that given how I had been rolling this evening, I would have been out the door in an instant.
Though they must have been short-staffed, being so willing to put up with someone like me helping out tonight. I knew the woman who had hired me was getting sick and tired of me already, and I was doing my best not to let it get to me. She was just trying to make it work the same way I was, and I was sure she had a job to hang on to just the same way I was hoping to.
Anyway. Eyes forward, keep focused—that was my mantra for the rest of the night. Oh, and try not to fling any more food down anyone’s front. That would come in useful, too. It was difficult, keeping that at the front of my mind, trying to remember just what it was I had come here for. Some part of me wished I could just go home, forget about all of this, but this was a paycheck, and I was in no damn place to let anything like that get away from me right now.
I put a smile on my face to serve the food to the rest of the guests around me, promising myself I wasn’t going to let this get away from me. It might not have been the easiest thing in the world, but I could still make it work. All it really involved was making sure I didn’t fall over anyone’s feet and fling food down their fronts, right? That shouldn’t be too hard...
And it was at that moment I realized someone was looking at me. I could feel the hair prickle on the back of my neck, and I did my best to ignore it, certain it was just the woman who had hired me keeping an eye on me to make sure I didn’t screw anything up more than I already had. I wanted to look around and give her a reassuring smile, ensure her she had nothing to worry about, but I was sure that if I took my eyes off the plate at all I was going to drop everything and make an utter mess.
So I hung on to it and kept my eyes forward and on the people I was serving. They plucked some of the bacon-wrapped figs from the plate in front of me, hardly making eye contact with me before I moved on. They were busy, I supposed, focused on whatever this night was all about. From what I had been able to glean from conversations I had overheard, it had something to do with a singer who had worked here for a while who was finally retiring. Good for him—he must have had a hell of a career if he had this kind of send-off. I wished I could be looking forward to my retirement already, living in luxurious decadence without having to worry for a moment about anything else in the world, but I was pretty far away from that as it stood right now.
Then I felt it again—the prickling on the back of my neck, but more intense this time around, as though someone was looking right at me. I glanced over, trying to see who it was who had taken such an interest in me—and that, of course, was when I spotted him.
He was standing about five feet behind me, and damn, he was gorgeous. Tall, sculpted body, a sharp face with angular features and piercing brown eyes that seemed to cut right through me, dressed in an immaculate suit that had surely been made for him. He tipped his head an inch to the side as he saw me looking back at him, as though he was inviting me a little closer.
To drop off some canapes, no doubt, I quickly reminded myself. I was here to serve, and that was all that mattered. I took a step toward him, smiling widely, and held out the tray to him.
“Would you care for some...uh, food?” I asked, trying to remember the name of the dish I was serving and failing entirely. He nodded.
“Thank you,” he replied. He was about the first person who had said that to me while he looked me in the eye.
Up close, he was even more beautiful, and I felt my heart starting to pick up the pace inside my chest. He was pouring all this attention onto me, and it took everything I had not to swoon all over him as a result. His eyes were flecked with gold, seeming to shimmer under the warm light above us, and I held my breath as he looked at me, taking me in, in no rush to get this over with.
He smelled delicious, too, like money and pine trees and some ancient herb that was only cultivated by monks on top of some distant mountain somewhere. I could already feel myself getting addicted to it, and I wondered how much he would mind if I leaned in to get a better whiff of his aftershave to work out how gorgeous it was. Because I was sure that any man I happened to date would have to smell at least this good if he stood a chance with me.
His eyes flicked up and down my body. I was hardly looking my best, dressed in that unflattering waitstaff uniform, but his attention didn’t waver for a second. As though he liked what he was seeing a whole lot and didn’t want to break from it.
I could feel that shiver working its way all the way up my spine now, spreading over my head. I couldn’t believe someone like him was even bothering with looking at me like that, but it thrilled me, it really did. I was just standing there, staring at him, when all at once, a woman came to his side once more, and I snapped out of my fugue state.
She was beautiful, totally stunning—she looked as though she could have walked right out of a fashion magazine, with long, blond hair, deep blue eyes, and full, pouting lips that seemed made to show off a luxury new lipstick. She barely seemed to notice me as she draped herself over him, smiling warmly and fluttering her lashes at him.
“Everything okay?” she asked him, and he turned his attention back to her and nodded.
“Just fine,” he replied. And I took that as my cue to get the hell out of there before I made more of a fool of myself than I already had.
I tried to stay focused on serving the food, just like I had been asked to, but I would have been lying if I’d said that this guy wasn’t getting under my skin. I could feel him still looking at me, even as I tried to go back to work.
He had that woman with him, and judging from the way she was hanging on to him, she had to be his wife, didn’t she? There was something about the confidence with which she clung to him that told me there was no way she was anything other than utterly and completely his. I couldn’t see a ring on his finger, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one—it just meant that he might not wear one yet, not that he wasn’t wedded to that woman who was standing right next to him.
It felt strange—strange to find myself stealing glances back at him, over and over again. Who was he? Why did he seem to have this kind of draw to me? It didn’t seem to just be me, either—judging by the number of people who were surrounding him at all times, he seemed to be the major attraction at this party. I wondered if he was maybe the singer that they were throwing it for. He looked a little on the young side for retirement—his body told me everything I needed to know about how deep into his prime he really was—and I couldn’t imagine him moving on out when he looked as fresh as that...
I had to remind myself what I was here for, and it wasn’t to check out hot dudes every chance I got, as tempting as that might have been. I had to think about getting my own life in order before I went falling so stupidly for someone else or even letting myself develop the beginnings of a crush. I needed the paycheck way before I needed to leave here with some man, and I had to remember that, pull that right to the front of my mind and make sure I didn’t let anything get in the way of it.
There was no way I was going to let anything get in the way of me here. I had to be selfish for a little while, had to stay focused on what really mattered—getting my feet on the ground, proving that this was the city for me, and that I would have no problem surviving here.
Which I was sure I wouldn’t, provided I didn’t go for any other waitressing jobs after this. I could admit that this had been a mistake, but you had to learn from those, didn’t you? I had to make them, sometimes, before I could get that through my head...
And, as I glanced back over at the man who had been eyeing me these last few minutes, I wondered just how easy it would be to let him become the kind of mistake I couldn’t come back from.
And just how much fun it might have been if I did.
