“What’s wrong?” the little girl asks. Her eyes dart between Al and me.
I freeze in place for a few seconds—then I turn andrunback to the kitchen. I swear I hear “Betty!” called from behind me.
When I get into the kitchen, I race past Phyllis, and I frantically look around. There’s a small storage closet where clean linens and extra supplies are kept. I fly over to it, swing the door open, and throw myself inside. As I reach for the door to pull it closed, Phyllis turns to look at me—speechless.
My heart pounds in my chest.
This can’t be happening. It cannot. It’s impossible. I cannot be running intoAlhere. He was only supposed to be a conference hookup—one time. No strings. I cried in front of him after sex, for God’s sake.
Speaking of God… Please, God, don’t let him find me.
I wait for what feels like an eternity, but it’s probably only a minute or two. It strikes me that I likely looked like a wild woman running in here and hiding, yet Phyllis just let me be. Interesting.
When I think it’s been long enough that I’m probably safe to come out, I reach for the door handle, and at that exact moment, I hear his deep voice through the cheap, hollow door.
“Hi… I’m looking for a girl.”
Time stands still. Is Phyllis going to rat me out?
“Well, young man, last I checked, an event hall kitchen isn’t really the ideal place to meet a young lady,” she says dryly. “But since you’re so handsome… I’m single.”
Silence.
Then, after about fifteen seconds, Phyllis chuckles.
“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you. Sorry—as you can see, I’m the only one in here.”
I release the breath I’d been holding, grateful that—for now—Phyllis hasn’t outed me.
“She just ran through here. Pretty. Green eyes. Blonde hair. She works here. She was wearing a uniform,” he explains.
“Oh, sorry, young man. Two of the girls just finished their shift and left.”
“Damn it,” I hear him mutter. “Sorry. It’s just—I swear I know the girl from somewhere. I just wanted to say hello. Is there any chance you could give me the names of the two girls who left? Maybe I can connect with her.”
“Okay, I gotta stop you there. That’s a hard no. I’m not giving out the girls’ names to someone we don’t know. That would be unprofessional.” Her voice is firm, motherly.
“But I’m with the bride and groom—in the wedding party. They can vouch for me.”
“I’m going to have to say no to that, and I have to ask you to leave the kitchen. We really can’t let non-catering staff back here. It’s against insurance rules.”
I hear him sigh, clearly frustrated. About thirty seconds later, the pantry door creaks open. Phyllis steps inside and shuts it behind her.
Shit.
I’m afraid I’m going to get fired now—and Ireallyneed this money.
“Young lady,” she says quietly, “I don’t know why you’re running from that man—God knows most women would runtowardhim—but clearly something’s going on there.”
“It’s nothing bad,” I whisper. “I promise. And thank you. For not telling him I was in here.”
She eyes me for a few seconds.
“All right. Sounds like there’s a story there. And if you’re ever ready to tell it”—she winks—“I love me a good, salacious, love story.”
“Oh no, it’s not like that.”
“I don’t know, Delaney.” Her voice turns playful again. “The look on that man’s face? That looked like something to me.”
