Page 91 of You Found Me

Della picked up her next tray filled with mugs of beer. She struggled for a second to get a good grip on it, then turned toward the group she thought had ordered it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ward still watching her. She thought he looked concerned.

Her heart fluttered. He was actually rooting for her. That realization was a heady, room-spinning thing, and for a second, she lost track of what she was doing.

“Hey, Lucy! That coming our way?” Brick’s call snapped her out of it, and she turned a little too fast in his direction.

The mugs shifted and the overbalanced tray slipped out of her hands. She squealed as the heavy plastic mugs hit the floor, showering her and the nearby tables with beer as they rattled to a stop.

The noise died.

“Oh shit,” she blurted into the silence.

Della stared at the mess with her mouth hanging open while her dignity slithered out the door. The last time she’d fumbled something this badly, she’d been onstage in front of thirty thousand fans, but it hadn’t felt this humiliating.

Somewhere out there, Piper had just started laughing her ass off and didn’t know why.

“Oh. God.” She hid her face in her hands, mortified.

Around her, laughter bubbled up into the stunned silence, followed by cheers and applause.

“Nice!” someone shouted.

“Don’t quit your day job!” someone else chimed in.

Della looked up and stuck her tongue out. “Thisismy day job.”

“Great,” an irritated woman next to her snapped. Her left calf glittered with beer droplets, along with a very nice ankle boot. “I hope you got paid in advance because I doubt you last long. Can I get a towel?”

“I’m so sorry! Oh my God, here…” Della snatched napkins from a nearby table and thrust them at her. “It’s my first day and I’m learning. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” one of the nearby high school guys called out. He had a wet spot on his jacket. “Give me a free beer and we’ll call it even.”

She grimaced. “You’re not twenty-one, tiger. How about free cider?”

“Damn,” he said, sounded defeated. “Cider works.”

Wet Boot snapped her fingers. “Hello. Two napkins isn’t enough for this mess. Bring a towel.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Della hurried away, eyes fixed on the back of the room where Cherry waited. “I can’t believe I did that,” Della told her. “I’m so fired. Am I fired? I should be fired.”

“If that’s all it took, we’d all be unemployed.” Cherry patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. Happens to all of us from time to time. And ignore Jeanine. She’s just in a bad mood because her date stood her up.”

Della glanced down at her beer-sodden shirt. “I smell like a brewery.”

“We can fix that.” Cherry held out a bucket with towels, wipes, and spray cleaner. “You get a towel to Jeanine and wipe down the tables. Mason will get the floor. Ken will have new drinks poured by the time you’re done with that. Everybody’ll be happy.”

Della flashed her a tired, but grateful smile. “Thanks, Cherry.”

She delivered the towels to Jeanine the Recently Dumped, who didn’t even bother to say thanks, then turned and smacked into Ward’s chest. “Ugh. Sorry.”

He put his hands out to steady her.

She’d never felt so klutzy. She was much better equipped to navigate a stage. Maybe because the people there got out of her way.

Funny, she’d never noticed that until now.

“Here.” He held out a new Sevens shirt, this one black instead of her beer-saturated white one that was now see-through. “Thought you might want to change your shirt.”

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