tablecloths on table four don’t match the rest, I need you to bring me cream, not off-white!”
I approached her quietly and waited for her to notice me standing there. But the woman continued to rant at whatever unlucky soul was on the other side of her headset.
“And why do I see lilies in the main hall, when I specifically requested orchids? I swear to God, could you screw this up anymore if you tried?”
“Who are you?”
I realized that the woman wasn’t talking into the headset and that the last thing she said had been directed at me.
“My name is Dalea Moreno.”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. Her hand touched the earpiece, as she responded to whoever was on the other side. “Get Mike over to the ballroom, the main stage needs to be moved to the right by two feet. What do you want?”
I blinked, not completely sure if she was speaking to me or not. “My name is Dalea Moreno.”
“You said that already.” The woman’s foot tapped impatiently on the marble floor.
“Trina sent me. She said you need waiters.”
“Oh, that,” the woman said, her voice impatient. She indicated the back of the ballroom with the manicured fingers of one hand. “The food service area is set up through the doors in the back. Ask for Zach and tell him I said to get you a uniform.”
The woman promptly turned away and returned to her conversation, not giving me a chance to say anything else.
I walked through the empty ballroom, which had already been set up with dozens of round tables covered in cream- colored tablecloths and set with fine silverware. A large chandelier hung in the center of the room, crystals reflecting off it like teardrops from God’s eyes.
I’d worked for the school’s catering company when I was in college, but that was mostly alumni events or sports functions, never anything as fancy as this.
The invitation that Trina had handed me put the cost of this thing at almost a thousand dollars per plate, which was closer to what my family paid for rent than dinner.
I pushed open the doors at the back of the massive ballroom and was immediately confronted with a bustling scene. Dozens of people dressed in starched uniforms — made up of tuxedo shirts, black slacks, and bowties — hurried around the room.
Squeezing between two large, silver tray caddies, I approached a guy who looked around my age. He was leaning against a wall divider and seemed to be the only one who wasn’t in a hurry.
“Excuse me,” I said.
The guy turned to me with a devastating smile. “You’re excused, beautiful.”
I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. This guy was the kind of hot that was dangerous, like he would rob a liquor store right before giving you the best sex of your life. He had dark hair and darker eyes — a gypsy who would come in the dead of night and steal you away. I was both attracted and repelled.
“Do you know where I can find Zach?” I said, ignoring the compliment. “He’s supposed to get me a uniform.”
He gave me a long once-over that made me want to slap his face. “Depends on who’s asking, sweetheart.”
“My name is Dalea. Trina sent me.”
He took a step towards me. I fought the urge to back away as he slowly circled me. “What will you give me if I tell you?”
I suppressed a shiver — of fear or something else, I couldn’t say. “Forget it. I’ll ask someone else.”
He put a restraining hand on my arm and the heat of his touch was practically burning. Was I reacting to him, or just desperate for a man’s touch on my skin?
“Relax, chica. I’m Zach.”
“Great.” My voice dripped with sarcasm and I yanked my arm away. “The woman out there said you could get me a uniform.”
“You mean Elsie?” He laughed and the sound was dark and sensual. “I’m surprised she stopped yelling at her assistant long enough to even talk to you.”
I had to laugh at that. “Yeah, I feel sorry for whoever is on the other side of that headset.”
“So, you need a
I approached her quietly and waited for her to notice me standing there. But the woman continued to rant at whatever unlucky soul was on the other side of her headset.
“And why do I see lilies in the main hall, when I specifically requested orchids? I swear to God, could you screw this up anymore if you tried?”
“Who are you?”
I realized that the woman wasn’t talking into the headset and that the last thing she said had been directed at me.
“My name is Dalea Moreno.”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. Her hand touched the earpiece, as she responded to whoever was on the other side. “Get Mike over to the ballroom, the main stage needs to be moved to the right by two feet. What do you want?”
I blinked, not completely sure if she was speaking to me or not. “My name is Dalea Moreno.”
“You said that already.” The woman’s foot tapped impatiently on the marble floor.
“Trina sent me. She said you need waiters.”
“Oh, that,” the woman said, her voice impatient. She indicated the back of the ballroom with the manicured fingers of one hand. “The food service area is set up through the doors in the back. Ask for Zach and tell him I said to get you a uniform.”
The woman promptly turned away and returned to her conversation, not giving me a chance to say anything else.
I walked through the empty ballroom, which had already been set up with dozens of round tables covered in cream- colored tablecloths and set with fine silverware. A large chandelier hung in the center of the room, crystals reflecting off it like teardrops from God’s eyes.
I’d worked for the school’s catering company when I was in college, but that was mostly alumni events or sports functions, never anything as fancy as this.
The invitation that Trina had handed me put the cost of this thing at almost a thousand dollars per plate, which was closer to what my family paid for rent than dinner.
I pushed open the doors at the back of the massive ballroom and was immediately confronted with a bustling scene. Dozens of people dressed in starched uniforms — made up of tuxedo shirts, black slacks, and bowties — hurried around the room.
Squeezing between two large, silver tray caddies, I approached a guy who looked around my age. He was leaning against a wall divider and seemed to be the only one who wasn’t in a hurry.
“Excuse me,” I said.
The guy turned to me with a devastating smile. “You’re excused, beautiful.”
I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. This guy was the kind of hot that was dangerous, like he would rob a liquor store right before giving you the best sex of your life. He had dark hair and darker eyes — a gypsy who would come in the dead of night and steal you away. I was both attracted and repelled.
“Do you know where I can find Zach?” I said, ignoring the compliment. “He’s supposed to get me a uniform.”
He gave me a long once-over that made me want to slap his face. “Depends on who’s asking, sweetheart.”
“My name is Dalea. Trina sent me.”
He took a step towards me. I fought the urge to back away as he slowly circled me. “What will you give me if I tell you?”
I suppressed a shiver — of fear or something else, I couldn’t say. “Forget it. I’ll ask someone else.”
He put a restraining hand on my arm and the heat of his touch was practically burning. Was I reacting to him, or just desperate for a man’s touch on my skin?
“Relax, chica. I’m Zach.”
“Great.” My voice dripped with sarcasm and I yanked my arm away. “The woman out there said you could get me a uniform.”
“You mean Elsie?” He laughed and the sound was dark and sensual. “I’m surprised she stopped yelling at her assistant long enough to even talk to you.”
I had to laugh at that. “Yeah, I feel sorry for whoever is on the other side of that headset.”
“So, you need a
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