Bittersweet by Sareeta Domingo

cheeks hurt.
    “Well, we’re in a liiitle bit of a pickle.” He grins widely. “Now, I have it on very good authority that this is the best restaurant in town.”
    I return his smile more genuinely now. “That’s correct,” I say.
    “You see, we’re starting rehearsals tomorrow at the high school, but we’re having some issues with the craft services guys. I was wondering if you might be able to help us out, you know, just get a lunchtime buffet spread together, nothing too fancy—just make sure there are some salads and lighter options, you know actresses—well, maybe you don’t, but trust me—and, uh, for the guys, we like to eat , you know…” He trails off, looking at me expectantly.
    Catering? We’ve never done anything like that, but I’ve certainly suggested it to Joe in the past. It’s kind of amazing that an opportunity has finally fallen in our lap. I take a breath and bite my lip pointedly.
    “Well, it’s kind of short notice—”
    Blaine pulls a concerned expression. “Oh. Well, if you know anyone else—”
    “But I think we could manage,” I add quickly. I was clearly overdoing my negotiation tactics. As well as a chance to branch out, we could really do with the extra cash we’d get from a catering job. “How many are we talking here?”
    Blaine pulls out a sort of extra-big cell/tablet thing, jabs at the screen, and squints at it. “Let’s see, all told, cast and crew… Looking at maybe forty.” He eyes me expectantly.
    A catered buffet for forty people for tomorrow? I know the kitchen guys will be busy doing breakfast, and then straight into lunch. I don’t even know if we have the supplies … but with some juggling and maybe if I beg Hal and Max to help out? Lord knows I’d get the sympathy vote working in my favor. I nod at Blaine, hoping to seem like this is no big deal. But if I’m going to do this, I’d better make it worth the while.
    “OK, forty people at,” I pull a figure out of the sky, “hmm … seventy-five dollars a head…” I glance at him, expecting a look of shock at the price, but he nods. A meal at JJ’s for seventeen-fifty would get you full to the brim! But I press on. “So, three thousand.” I swallow.
    To my utter surprise, Blaine just grins. “Fantastic.”
    “And half up front.” I hold my breath.
    “Oh, sure, absolutely,” he says, whipping out a checkbook with the company logo emblazoned on it. Life is good on company credit, I guess. I return his grin and pump his hand happily as he hands the check over.
    “You’re a life-saver, Cathy, really you are. I’ll see you over at the high school at midday tomorrow, yah?”
    “See you then,” I call cheerily as he strides out of the restaurant.
    A catered buffet for forty fancy-pants actors and their crew by midday tomorrow? Oh, yeah, no problem.
    But then something else hits me.
    The crew ?
    Shit. Greg.
    * * *
    “Slice them faster!”
    “You think they want a severed finger in their pastrami on rye?”
    “I’m just saying, it’s not rocket science, it’s slicing a freaking tomato…”
    I look over at Max and Hal squabbling and feel an overwhelming sense of friendship and relief.
    “What are you grinning about?” Max asks, smiling herself. I think she’s just glad I have some distraction from moping about Gregany .
    “I’m just really glad you guys are here,” I say, and I really mean it. I would have been screwed if they hadn’t agreed to help out. Joe was skeptical about the idea when I called to tell him what I’d agreed, though he warmed up to it a little more when I told him how much we’d get paid. He insisted I keep any profit for myself, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
    “Awww, C,” Max says, pressing another sandwich down to cut it in half. “Of course we are, right, Hal-Pal?”
    “Yep,” he replies, winking at me. “And anyway, I’m hoping to get into some of that Sloppy Joe Johnson’s mix when we’re done.”
    I glance at the clock. Only