Page 3 of Close Match
Just as I’m about to thank both her and Bristol, Mom mutters, “I need to tell them to drop the heat in here. I understand it’s still cool out, but still. This is ridiculous.”
Bristol and I exchange worried looks. “Mom, it’s not that hot in here,” I contradict her.
“It’s really not.”
“Do you see us old people sitting around with hats and sweaters on?” she snaps. “That means it’s too hot in here.”
“First off, you’re not old. And second…” I don’t get to number two before my mother—ever the diva—stops a passing waiter.
“Excuse me, young man,” He blinks at her a few times before his eyes light in recognition.
“Wow, you’re Brielle Brogan.” He’s practically genuflecting. I roll my eyes at Bristol and reach for my coat. We’re about to be frozen out of the restaurant.
“Indeed, I am.” Mom shoots him the dazzling smile I inherited. “I’m a touch warm. Would it be possible to turn down the heat?”
“Of course, Ms. Brogan. Would it…” He looks away before squaring his shoulders.
Here we go, I think to myself.
“Would it be possible to ask for a quick photo? I took my mother to seePowerhouse. She said it was the best gift I ever gave her. She’ll never believe you come in here like regular folks.”
My mother jumps up. “It’s no trouble at all…”
“Lance.”
“Lance. In fact, if you give me your name and a good day, I’ll make sure you have tickets to my new show waiting for you and your mother waiting at the box office.”
He’s stunned. Truly. “ButMiss Meis sold out for months.”
“I think my daughter—” She nods at me. Lance’s eyes flash over and widen even further. He doesn’t scream or cause a scene, which I give him credit for. “—and I can pull a few strings.”
And then for the second time in one day, the unexpected happens.
“Ms. Brogan, you’re tremendous, but I couldn’t take those seats away from someone who’s waited months to see you. It’d be an honor just to get a quick picture with you. I promise I won’t post it online or anything. But let me get that air adjusted first.” Lance is about to scurry off when I stop him.
“Lance.” He stops at the sound of my husky voice. “Mom and I have a box that we can give away tickets to. If we don’t, they sell at the last minute. You’re not taking the seats away from anyone. Let her do this for you.”
My mom smiles at me in approval.
Damn, when did I become so jaded by life that I forgot about the humanity of the people beyond the stage lights?
“I…I…” Lance is staring at me now like I just worked a miracle.
“How about that air? And maybe some fresh water? Then swing by with your schedule for Mom,” I encourage him.
It’s like I’m releasing him from a trance. He dashes off, weaving around busy waitstaff who are carrying sandwiches the size of my forearm. Once he’s out of earshot, I lean in and ask, “Should we shock him by leaving backstage passes with his tickets at will call?”
Mom, who’s still fanning herself, falls into Bristol laughing. “That’s my girl,” she roars.
Bristol just grins at both of us.
God, I love my family even as they drive me crazy.
I don’t know what I would do without them.
Two
Evangeline
