Our eyes met one last time and then he disappeared into the bathroom.
I didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, and raced back to the elevator.
* * *
“You’re late.” My new boss, Marla, looked up at me, one of her jet-black brows lifted in a perfect upside-down U.
“And no coffee!” My roommate and coworker, Kiki Hansen, wailed.
“I fell,” I admitted, grimacing. “My heel hooked in something on the carpet and I wiped out, taking a guy in the elevator—and all our coffees—with me.”
Kiki bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and Marla gave me a look that was meant to be stern. Instead, she burst out laughing.
“Was he cute?” Another of my coworkers, Gordie Mazetti, wiggled his eyebrows.
“He was,” I said, smiling. “But I had to go, so there went the future Mr. Franklin, running away from me as fast as his coffee-soaked legs could carry him.”
Everyone laughed.
“Okay, we have a lot to talk about today,” Marla said, “but we can’t do it without coffee. Gordie, go find us some coffee while we discuss heels for Bri.”
“Here.” I dug around in my purse for a twenty but Gordie waved me off.
“You’ve had a rough enough morning,” he said, laughing as he left.
“I’m assuming we have a job coming up that will require us to wear heels?” I asked, sinking down next to Kiki. She was the one who’d gotten me this job and told me bringing coffee would earn me brownie points, but that hadn’t gone the way I’d hoped so I was just glad Marla wasn’t mad.
Marla looked around the room and took a breath. “Okay, the big news is that I’ve formed a partnership with Priscilla’s Novelty Catering.”
Kiki let out a low whistle. “Damn, boss lady. That’s big time.”
Marla nodded. “Which is why we need to wear heels sometimes. Beginning with a party Saturday night for someone famous.”
“Who?” Kiki asked.
“She wouldn’t even tell me, that’s how big of a deal it is. However, since this whole partnership came up unexpectedly, we needed to have a meeting.”
“And that’s why we’re meeting in an office instead of the shop?” Kiki asked.
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m down for whatever you need,” I said.
“Walking in heels without killing yourself would be nice,” Marla said, chuckling.
“I’ll be fine.” I said the words, but I hated walking in heels. I could do it, but my feet were always killing me by the end of the night and I was obviously out of practice if my fall in the elevator was any indication.
“What will this mean going forward?” Kiki asked. “Do we work for you or for Priscilla?”
“Technically, you work for me and will still get paid by me, but we’re going to be merging a lot of our business in the coming months. We’ve both been growing exponentially, her more than me, obviously, and we both need more help. By partnering up, we’ll each get our own jobs, but have the other’s staff to draw on when needed. That way, the staffing is seamless and everyone is familiar with each other’s process. Priscilla has higher-end clients than I do, which means we have to be on top of everything. No mistakes.”
She glanced around the room. “That means no flirting with guests, Kiki.”
Kiki chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“No sneaking bites of food,” Marla said to a guy named Ricky.
“I get hungry,” he protested.
“Ricky.”
“I’m kidding. I’m good.”
“Okay, so the reason for the heels is a casual but sophisticated get-together on Saturday night and I want to make sure you’re comfortable walking in them while carrying trays of food and drinks. Normally, we don’t wear heels but for this event you’re going to wear short black skirts—or slacks for the gentlemen—black stockings, black heels, and your normal long-sleeve, white, button-down blouse. There will be a buffet, but you’ll be walking around with appetizers and glasses of champagne.”
Great. Today was turning out to be the Monday-est Wednesday ever.
“I’m down.” Kiki grinned. “You gonna live, Bri?”
“I’ll be fine,” I muttered. “Just need to go buy a new pair before Saturday because my heel broke when it caught on the carpet.”
Marla grimaced. “They don’t have to be high,” she said. “But cute and sexy. No frumpy wedge heels.”
“I love wedge heels,” I protested.
“As do I, but not for this client and this event.”
“I’m ba-ack!” Gordie came in with a tray of drinks and we all pounced.
“Nectar of the gods,” I murmured, taking the first sip. “I might even be able to walk in heels after this.”
2
Bash
* * *
We’d been having a lot of band meetings lately. It seemed like every time I turned around, there was something to talk about. Though the music was on point and we were gaining momentum, we were currently having some growing pains. After being on tour with Onyx Knight from September until the end of April, we suddenly found ourselves back home in Las Vegas with no concrete plans. The problem was that our first album had sold okay but not the way we wanted it to, and now we had a lot of decisions to make.
I was probably in a bad mood after this morning’s root canal, because all I’d really wanted to do when I went home to change clothes was take a nap, but duty called and this meeting wasn’t optional. The owner of our record label, Casey Hart, was in town for just a few days and she was going to help us figure out what to do next. We usually met via video chat now that she lived in Europe, but she’d had things to take care of here in Las Vegas and it was the perfect opportunity to meet.
I headed over to her recording studio after I changed even though I’d be a little early, because I needed to talk to her before everyone else got there. We settled in her old office, closing the double doors behind us, and she sank into her chair.
“Damn, sometimes I miss sitting here,” she said with a faint smile.
I sat in the chair across from her and looked around for a moment, taking in the familiar surroundings. I’d recorded a lot of music in this studio and the plan was to do more this summer. The problem was whether or not I wanted to and how to explain that to Casey after all she’d done for us.
“So, what’s on your mind?” Her eyes twinkled, as though she already knew what I was going to say. She hadn’t changed much since marrying European royalty and it was one of the many things I loved about Casey. She was a freakin’ queen now, but she never stood on ceremony unless she absolutely had to, and she’d threatened to castrate all of us if we ever used her formal title in private.
“I’m struggling,” I admitted, leaning back in the chair.
“With which part? The band, the music, or something else?”
“Definitely the something else part.” I smiled. “The music is fantastic, the guys—and Lexi—are like family now, it’s just…” It was difficult to articulate what I was feeling.