I smile politely. “I’ve worked as a server.”
She matches my smile with her own mocking version. “Not here you didn’t. That was casual dining, and we have different standards. Somerset Grill is one of the nicest restaurants in town.”
Which isn’t saying much. “Okay, sure. I can come in for a training shift any night.”
“Not one, a few. We’ll see how you do.” She leans over the desk, scanning the sheet where everyone’s shift is written down. “Not Phoebe; too lazy,” she mutters to no one in particular. “Jorge could teach you a thing or two about Tuesday nights, but what we need is Thursday and weekend servers.” She taps her finger on the paper. “Here we go. You come in Sunday night. I’ll put you with Reeve.”
I stare at her.
“The new guy,” she prompts me. “You said you knew him?”
I swallow hard and nod. “Reeve. Yes, I know him.”
“He’s good. Very cool under pressure, which you’ll need if you want to work weekend shifts during the holidays.” She gives a harsh laugh.
No. No. No. I rack my brain trying to think of something that could possibly get me out of this, but there’s nothing, not if I want this server job I so desperately need. One wrong word and I’m sure Cecily would love to snatch back the offer and banish me to the hostess station for good.
“Sunday,” I say tonelessly.
“That’s right. Come prepared to listen more than you talk, okay? I know that’s not your strong suit.”
“That won’t be a problem.” I have nothing to say to Reeve Dalton.
EIGHT
reeve
“You’re coming tonight, right?”I ask Cam as we walk home from practice Thursday under a sky that’s threatening a storm.
“What’s tonight?”
“Another outing. Grabbing dinner and then probably hitting the Phantom as usual. I’m in charge and we need numbers.”
“So no Viaggio’s?” Thursday-night dinners at Viaggio’s are a long-standing tradition for Cam, Lorenzo, Cash, and me.
“Not this week.”
“Just as well. Lorenzo tell you he and Ruby are back together?” He smiles. “He’d have canceled on us anyway. So I thought Lincoln was organizing the outing this time.”
“He’s got some exam tomorrow, so I said I’d do it.”
“Sounds familiar.”
Shafer football has a tradition where upperclassmen organize informal get-togethers with whichever players can attend in the name of team spirit. Coach says in the old days, guys would go to baseball games and bowling alleys, but my generation doesn’t seem interested in much beyond dinner and drinking.Which is fine. Considering it’s like pulling teeth getting guys to show up at all, it’s better to keep it simple. “You know how it goes. I’ve had guys texting me all day, saying they can’t come due to homework or a girl or some shit. Like I don’t have that stuff on my plate too?”
“Dude, you probably organize half our team outings. You don’t always have to say yes.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I do.” Maybe I’m a little salty at being expected to step up once again, but I like being the face of the team, being the one that can always bring the guys together. And as a team captain, it’s my job. No sense bitching about it. If it’s good for the team, it’s good for me.
“So are we skipping the hospital visit?” Cam asks.
“No. It’ll be tight, but we can do both.”
“You’re a man of the people.”
I don’t drinkon Thursdays, especially not at team functions. I want to set an example for the younger players, and anyway, I’ve never needed alcohol to have a good time. But as darkness falls and the drinking crowd filters into the Phantom—Shafer’s most popular dive bar—it’s starting to feel like a weekend night. The music’s been switched from nineties rock to dance hits, competing against the crack of pool balls breaking. Girls are coming through the door in groups, some dressed casually in leggings and sweatshirts, others decked out in tiny skirts and dresses like it’s Saturday night, and I recognize most of them. As big as our university is, the same girls follow us football players around season after season. Luckily, it’s a big enough pool of girls a man never has to double dip if he doesn’t want to.
I’m grabbing a glass of water from the bartender whenthere’s a playful smack on my arm, and I turn to find Grace leaning on the lacquered wood bar next to me.
