forgot the words to one of my own songs, and that was it. I had never been able to be in front of a crowd since. My music career went down the toilet, and I turned to food service. I was an ass-backward Cinderella story. The waitress returned with my water, which I accepted gratefully.
Savannah hurried over to me then, her face etched with concern. “Sweetie, what happened? You look a fright.”
“Fright is right—stage fright.”
She took my hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry. It completely slipped my mind. I never would have told Carl to pull you out onstage if I’d thought about it. Forgive me?”
“Already done. It’s not your job to keep track of my neuroses.”
“Well, at least you can rest for a bit. Dinner is next.”
“Some food should help.”
“By the way, I switched your place cards to our table.” Savannah winked at me. “You won’t have to deal with Stan alone.”
I felt decidedly better as Savannah and Carl led me to my new table. Stan was waiting there, ready to pull out my chair for me. His gentlemanly manners were nice and all, but sometimes I would much prefer Ryder tossing me a box of Chinese takeout and flopping down next to me on the couch. Why did he keep popping into my mind?
Stan squeezed my shoulder and asked knowingly, “Did you have a bout of stage fright?”
“Yes, but I’m fine now,” I replied, laying my hand on his. Stan was still as thoughtful as ever where I was concerned, which made me feel guilty for suspecting him of any wrongdoing.
There were two other couples at our table. One was eyeing Stan disdainfully. They seemed to be looking down their noses at me, too, I assumed because of my association with Stan. I didn’t care. These rich assholes didn’t scare me. That is, unless I was standing on a stage in front of them.
The man who wasn’t glaring at Stan said, “Well, Stan, my boy. It seems you’ve just won the inheritance lottery. Need a seasoned, recently fired Hollingsworth Industries CEO to help you through the transition?” His voice sounded like Foghorn Leghorn’s—heavily accented and like his mouth was full of butter.
Stan smiled, probably because this guy was the first person to be nice to him this evening. “I just might, Charles. Why don’t we have lunch on Monday to discuss it?”
Foghorn/Charles replied, “Good man. I was a little worried about our company with your sister in charge. Bless her heart.”
I had lived in the South long enough to know that “bless his/her/your heart” did
not
mean what we Yankees thought it should. Loosely translated, “bless your heart” meant “you’re a dumbass.” I assumed this guy had no use for Cecilia because the first thing she did when she took over the family business was kick him to the curb. I’d probably be pissed about that, too.
Foghorn continued, “But with the two of us at the helm, I reckon we’ll take the furniture world by storm.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Stan, smiling more broadly than he had in a while. “I feel like the market is finally starting to pick up again. The luxury furniture industry is poised for huge growth over the next few years.”
“Stan, I like the way you think.” He leaned closer to Stan but didn’t bother to lower his voice. “Between you and me, I believe our new line of fainting couches is going to make us rich.” He stopped to let out a big belly laugh. “Well, rich-
er
!”
Stan joined in his laughter. I had witnessed Stan schmooze with people before, and I had to say, it wasn’t exactly a turn-on. Personally, I couldn’t imagine that fainting couches were going to be the wave of the future. It sounded like a terrible business decision to me, but what did I know? When Stan and Foghorn finally quit patting themselves on the back, the other couple was still looking at us with distaste, and Carl and Savannah both seemed a little embarrassed. I didn’t blame them. Thank goodness it was time for dinner.
The entire waitstaff descended
Savannah hurried over to me then, her face etched with concern. “Sweetie, what happened? You look a fright.”
“Fright is right—stage fright.”
She took my hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry. It completely slipped my mind. I never would have told Carl to pull you out onstage if I’d thought about it. Forgive me?”
“Already done. It’s not your job to keep track of my neuroses.”
“Well, at least you can rest for a bit. Dinner is next.”
“Some food should help.”
“By the way, I switched your place cards to our table.” Savannah winked at me. “You won’t have to deal with Stan alone.”
I felt decidedly better as Savannah and Carl led me to my new table. Stan was waiting there, ready to pull out my chair for me. His gentlemanly manners were nice and all, but sometimes I would much prefer Ryder tossing me a box of Chinese takeout and flopping down next to me on the couch. Why did he keep popping into my mind?
Stan squeezed my shoulder and asked knowingly, “Did you have a bout of stage fright?”
“Yes, but I’m fine now,” I replied, laying my hand on his. Stan was still as thoughtful as ever where I was concerned, which made me feel guilty for suspecting him of any wrongdoing.
There were two other couples at our table. One was eyeing Stan disdainfully. They seemed to be looking down their noses at me, too, I assumed because of my association with Stan. I didn’t care. These rich assholes didn’t scare me. That is, unless I was standing on a stage in front of them.
The man who wasn’t glaring at Stan said, “Well, Stan, my boy. It seems you’ve just won the inheritance lottery. Need a seasoned, recently fired Hollingsworth Industries CEO to help you through the transition?” His voice sounded like Foghorn Leghorn’s—heavily accented and like his mouth was full of butter.
Stan smiled, probably because this guy was the first person to be nice to him this evening. “I just might, Charles. Why don’t we have lunch on Monday to discuss it?”
Foghorn/Charles replied, “Good man. I was a little worried about our company with your sister in charge. Bless her heart.”
I had lived in the South long enough to know that “bless his/her/your heart” did
not
mean what we Yankees thought it should. Loosely translated, “bless your heart” meant “you’re a dumbass.” I assumed this guy had no use for Cecilia because the first thing she did when she took over the family business was kick him to the curb. I’d probably be pissed about that, too.
Foghorn continued, “But with the two of us at the helm, I reckon we’ll take the furniture world by storm.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Stan, smiling more broadly than he had in a while. “I feel like the market is finally starting to pick up again. The luxury furniture industry is poised for huge growth over the next few years.”
“Stan, I like the way you think.” He leaned closer to Stan but didn’t bother to lower his voice. “Between you and me, I believe our new line of fainting couches is going to make us rich.” He stopped to let out a big belly laugh. “Well, rich-
er
!”
Stan joined in his laughter. I had witnessed Stan schmooze with people before, and I had to say, it wasn’t exactly a turn-on. Personally, I couldn’t imagine that fainting couches were going to be the wave of the future. It sounded like a terrible business decision to me, but what did I know? When Stan and Foghorn finally quit patting themselves on the back, the other couple was still looking at us with distaste, and Carl and Savannah both seemed a little embarrassed. I didn’t blame them. Thank goodness it was time for dinner.
The entire waitstaff descended
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