Page 2 of Saving Sophia

“I have your … the round of drinks you wanted,” I said, hoping my face was more secret smile and less nervous grimace. “Fellas,” I added after a beat. My insides cringed. I tried to bat my eyelashes, but I’m pretty sure it looked more like I was blinking a hair out of my eye.

They ignored me.

Callie shimmied over to Pete’s buddy, and all eyes were on her.

“So … here you go,” I continued, setting the drinks on the table. I was no Amber Jade. I was invisible.

One guy, handsome and clean-cut, who looked slightly embarrassed to be there, grabbed his beer and made eye contact.

A flush of nerves ripped through me. I stared at him, wondering what he was thinking. Maybe he was the kind, considerate frat brother, the one who made all his pals do philanthropy and adopted their mascot from an animal shelter and was only there to be the designated driver and make sure they all got home safely. Maybe he was a big tipper who could?—

“Daddy’s Little Cutie, huh?”

“What?” I jumped at his words, my hand instinctively going up to the golden, heart-shaped locket around my neck, my finger tracing the inscription.

“Who gave that to you?” He took a drink and grinned at me with perfect, straight, white teeth. Maybe his father was a cosmetic dentist to the stars.

“No one,” I snapped. I didn’t mean to; it just came out that way. His grin dropped, his immaculate teeth retreating behind lips full and slightly damp with beer.

The guy next to him looked over and rested his hand on my hip, his fingers digging in through the pleather skirt. “Daddy’s Little Cutie?” He winked at his friend. “Think she needs a daddy, Craig?” Craig, the celebrity dentist’s son, snickered.

My face froze, and my cheeks burned at their laughter. The fingers on my hip squeezed harder. Anxiety and humiliation shot through my veins. “Let me go,” I croaked out, trying to pull away. He let go, which I wasn’t expecting. I lost my balance and stepped back again to compensate, slamming into the tray of another server hustling by.

Good news, the tray only had a few bottles on it.

Bad news, two toppled and spilled, soaking me with warm beer and the spit of strangers.

The frat guys burst into laughter as beer ran down my costume and dripped into those gold platform gladiator sandals. Any hopes I’d had for tips faded into a puddle between my toes.

“Hey!” Callie climbed out of Pete’s lap and stepped between me and the laughing frat guys.

“Is there a problem here?” John, the new bouncer, materialized next to me. His massive arms were crossed over a tight, black T-shirt that read Renaissance Staff across the chest, and he had an earpiece tucked in his right ear.

“No problem,” Craig said, his cosmetic dentistry smile reappearing. “Just an accident.”

John looked at Callie.

“It’s fine, John,” she said, but anger snapped in her eyes. If we weren’t at work, she would have leveled these guys.

“Alright then.” John shot one more glare at the guys then took a step back.

Callie gave me a quick squeeze and whispered, “Go get cleaned up. Don’t worry about these fuckers. I’ll make sure they go home broke for being such dicks.” She snapped her fingers and stalked over to the dentist’s son, propping her spiked heel on his knee, dragging her hands up her thighs and leaning toward him. “You have been a naughty boy,” she said in her patented, seductive purr.

The guys all turned back to Callie, bills waving again, my beer bath and locket forgotten.

I took a step toward the employee dressing room, tugging at the toga top clinging to my skin. Perfect. Three more hours in a damp, smelly costume before I could go home, pull on some fuzzy pajamas, shove my nose into my Kindle, and forget this embarrassing night ever happened.

“Hold up.” John blocked my path like a wall. I raised my eyes as far as his chest before dropping them to the floor. He was a hawk, and I was a field mouse, praying I might fade away beneath his notice, but no such luck.

“I’m sorry … I?—”

He held a finger up with one hand and touched his earpiece with the other, freezing me in my tracks. He tipped his head toward the stairwell that led up to the VIP rooms. A wall of mirrored windows looked down onto the main floor. Shadows moved behind it, mostly hidden in the neon glow.

John nodded and looked back at me. “Sorry kiddo, you’re out.”

“What?”

“Boss says get your shit and go.”

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