The man opened his mouth as if to speak but then pressed his lips together. “Thanks for the music. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“You, too.”
She barely had the words out before he turned, wove his way around tables, and left the pub.
Whoever he was, Ivy appreciated he’d accepted her “no” and hadn’t pushed her.
The party at table five motioned to her before pointing to empty glasses.
“Let me get rid of my guitar, and I’ll be right there.”
In the small room, she placed her guitar in the case. Closing the lid and securing the clasps gave her the time to put the performer part of herself away. She put on her apron.
You have a fantastic voice, and I won’t be forgetting that last song anytime soon.
Most people applauded and cheered when she finished a set but few sought her out. Even if the guy had hit on her, she took his compliment at face value, not as a way to get on her good side.
Out in the kitchen, she washed her hands.
“Nice show.” Will, who was doing a stellar job filling in for Bethany when she couldn’t be here during dinner, pulled out the whipped cream from a commercial refrigerator. “The desserts for table three will be ready in three minutes.”
Performer Ivy’s time in the spotlight was over. Server Ivy was up. She didn’t mind. Not really.
This was her life. The one she’d chosen. Wanting more would only lead to heartbreak and disappointment because dreams didn’t come true.
At least not hers.
She dried her hands. “I’ll get drink refills and be right back.”
