Page 129 of Life of the Party

“Yeah, I do. The tips are fantastic.” She leaned in closer to me, her blue eyes delighted. “They’re still hiring, Mac. I could put a good word in for you, if you want.”

I smiled. So far, I hadn’t been hired by the lumberyard. “Seriously? That sounds amazing. Do you think they’ll hire me?”

“Come on.” Charlie yanked on my hand. “Let’s go see.”

Charlie and I giggled to each other as we left the office of my instant new boss, Walter, who’d taken one look at me and hired me on the spot.

“Did that really just happen? That was so abrupt.” I couldn’t believe I had a job; it was such a relief. And I got to work with Charlie again. I beamed ecstatically as we walked down the hallway, unable to believe my luck.

Charlie chuckled. “Yeah. We’re a little desperate here, if you hadn’t noticed.” She pulled me into a grungy little staff room. Old, peeling, black and white checked linoleum covered the floor and dated vinyl booths were crowded along the walls. Charlie led me past these to an aged metal storage locker, scribbled and scratched from years of graffiti.

She rummaged around and grabbed a uniform skirt and tank top from the communal closet for me. “Shit, Mac. Do you eat anymore?” Charlie frowned, looking between my tiny frame and the size of the clothes in her hand.

I laughed. “Of course I eat.” Just not very much.

She shook her head doubtfully and found me a size smaller. “Here. We each get a locker for our stuff; you can have this one beside mine. Go change into your uniform, and then I’ll show you the rest.”

I headed into the washroom and changed my clothes. The only shoes I had were my heels. The uniform skirt was short, showing ample leg, the tiny tank top tight across my chest. Knowing what I did now about the skin-to-tip ratio, I was going to have a good night.

Charlie looked me over once I finished dressing. “Hmm…don’t worry about those,” she pointed. “It’s so dark in the club no one will notice.”

“What?” I followed her gaze, confused. She was looking down at my arms, at the various track marks marring my skin. “Oh. I didn’t realize they were so…noticeable.”

“It’s bright in here. Don’t worry about it. Besides that, you look awesome.” She threw me an apron after I piled my clothes in the locker. “Ready?”

“Ready.” I nodded. But then, Charlie smiled slyly at me.

“Not quite ready.” She pulled something clandestinely from the bag in her locker and handed it over to me. “Here. Take some, for old times sake.”

I giggled and quickly unscrewed the vial, snorting the beautiful cocaine powder up into my sinuses. I had missed this too, a lot. I took a few more and then handed it back to Charlie, who did one quickly and then replaced it in her bag.

“Okay, good. Come with me.” She smiled.

The place was thrumming. Grey’s band was partway through the first song of their set. We tried to make our way through the avid crowd, but it was nearly impossible. Charlie had to throw some elbows.

I stared up at Grey as he sang, just as entranced as ever, like it was my first time seeing him on stage. He was so gorgeous. I loved the way he spread his legs, the way his jeans were tight on his thighs, the way his muscular arms held his guitar and demanded such beautiful, screaming music from it. I loved how his blue eyes scanned the crowd, how a slight dimple graced his stubbled cheek as he smirked, how his perfect lips crooned the lyrics with his husky, perfect voice.

He was mine. That was the absolute best part. Grey was mine.

Charlie managed to lead me to the main bar. The pace wasn’t too frantic while everyone’s attention was diverted by the band. I did my best to listen and learn as Charlie dragged me around the place, talking a mile-a-minute about drink orders and computer systems and everything else. It was all a little overwhelming at first, but I knew I’d get the hang of it eventually.

I cleared tables for most of the night, which was a relief, something I could handle. The place was a mess. I knew now why the floor was always sticky and covered in cigarette butts, why the vinyl booths were ripped. Drunk people were ridiculous; I wasn’t used to being around them so sober. They were actually kind of…annoying. Every once in a while, though, Charlie would pull me aside, and we’d do a shot at the bar. Once I had a good, happy buzz going, I didn’t mind the idiots spilling their drinks and stumbling over me. It was actually kind of fun, like Charlie said.

There was one downside to working there I hadn’t foreseen.

When Grey’s band finished, they went back to the VIP section, just like usual. This time, I couldn’t go with him. There were designated staff assigned especially to that section, and I’d have to work my way up the ladder to earn the right. I sighed, watching pretty young girls file into the VIP room, biting back the jealousy that flared within me. I knew I could trust Grey, without a doubt.

I also knew I couldn’t trust any of those girls.

I was busy working away, cleaning up the sticky, disgusting mess of tables, when I felt a sudden hand on my waist. I smiled at the touch—I knew without looking who was standing behind me. All my worries melted away.

“Excuse me, sir.” I turned around, playfully slapping his hand away. “I have a boyfriend, and he wouldn’t like you touching me.”

He smirked, his voice low, wrapping his hands around my waist. “I have a girlfriend, too, but you’re so damn pretty, I couldn’t help myself.”

I smiled as he pulled me to him. In seconds we were kissing. Lost in the sea of people, I knew no one would notice. Still, I made myself pull away before we got too hot and heavy. I was at work, after all.

“You guys sounded great.” I wiped my lipstick from his lips. “Amazing turn out.”

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