“What is that?” I ask.
“They’re shorts,” she says, tossing them at me.
“Shorts?” I ask, catching them and holding them up. “These are supposed to cover my ass?”
“No, they’re not supposed to cover your ass. That’s kind of the whole point. Ring girls aren’t just waitresses, Mila,” Brynn says. She shimmies out of her little black skirt and into the “shorts.” “They’re meant to be a show.” She turns and poses multiple times in front of the mirror.
“I guess I didn’t really notice when I was in there before,” I say. She unbuttons her shirt and tosses it aside before slipping into a red, shiny tank top. It hits me then that the theme is feminine boxers, like the Halloween version of the men’s costume. “I wonder why Niko didn’t have me wearing that on the night I worked for you.”
“Because you weren’t a replacement,” she says, cupping her own breasts in the mirror. “And you weren’t a Ring Girl. You were a rookie, a stand-in,” she says, turning to me. “You’re still a rookie. Until you prove otherwise. Now get changed. Betting on boxers makes rich men thirsty.”
Despite my hesitation, I change into the outfit, though it certainly doesn’t fit me the way it fits Brynn. She’s a skimpy little thing, like the short version of Lainey with hardly any curves at all. I’ve always been jealous of her perfect little butt and A-cups.Even though Lainey insists, ‘junk in the trunk and full C cups would be a dream.’ Actually, I’m a small D cup, but I took it as a compliment.
As I stand in front of the mirror, Brynn looks me over and then twirls her finger in a circle, motioning for me to turn around.
“Hmm,” she says after I am facing her again. “Not bad.”
“Really?” I ask, looking in the mirror. “I feel like my entire ass is hanging out.”
Brynn smiles and grabs my arm, pulling me to the door. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Once we are at the bar in the ring room, she points out men sitting at the tables while rattling off drinks. “The one in gray over there with the blonde hair, that’s John. He owns a chain of toy stores,” she tells me.
“Toy stores?” I ask. “Like…toys for the fun of it?”
Another waitress giggles as she walks away with a tray.
“No, Mila.Adulttoy stores.”
“Oh. Oh!” I nod.
“He drinks two fingers of whiskey neat. Only rye. Give him bourbon and he’ll throw it back at you,” Brynn says, eyeing a couple whiskey glasses on the bar before grabbing one in the middle.
“What if I get them mixed up?” I ask. I’ve been a bartender for a while, but the color of those two liquors is nearly identical. Obviously, I can tell bourbon from rye if I’m making the drink myself, but at a glance, it’s not so easy.
“Smell it,” she says, wafting the glass under my nose. It makes sense. “And if you have to…” she dips her finger in the glass and pops it in her mouth. “Taste it.”
“Won’t he get mad if he sees you doing that?” I ask.
“I’d rather he be mad about that than mad because he’s got a mouthful of bourbon that two seconds later is going to end up in my face.”
Jesus. Thisisa whole new ball game. I haven’t felt like this since I started my first job as a waitress at a diner by the stadium. I really am a rookie.
“The guy with him is Rob. He works for Hide and Peek,” she says.
“The lingerie chain?”
“You got it. They’re buddies, as you can imagine. He drinks negronis. Easy enough. Then there’s Chris and Cam next to them. Brothers. Pilots. They start with cinnamon whiskey and chase it with an IPA,” she says as she loads the drinks onto the tray.
“Gross,” I say.
“Right? They get a lot of shit for it too, but they’re pilots. They don’t give a fuck.”
I smile. Of course pilots would be too cocky to care.
“Then there’s Jason. Gin and juice for him. It’s alliterative, so that helps. Max, the one with the cigar. Rum. Straight. Half a glass. Never let it get below a third. Sanchez is a beer drinker. Whatever is newest on tap. And Ryan there at the end, only drinks scotch. If Carlos wins a match, though, he’s going to wantthat scotch right away. Don’t wait until he asks for it, but do wait until you know for sure that Carlos won. Are you getting all this?”
I mumble off the names of the men and their drinks to myself. It’s a lot, but I have a system for remembering it. I don’t usually have to memorize it this quickly, though. I just pray my system doesn’t fail me. Then I nod.
