Allie slid into the limousine. A sense of possibility crept over her skin as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, taking them to their magical luncheon with the stars.
The usually quiet building was all abustle as tenants crowded out so the fumigators could move in. Their energy permeated the walls, giving the building new life, which was funny, considering the reason they were piling out the doors. Perhaps avoiding William’s lemony disposition until Monday morning added the bounce to her step. The luncheon was so far out of her ordinary day that she hadn’t been able to eat due to nerves and her stomach growled.
With her dark hair loosened from its ever-present braid, brushing her belt like a hem brushes the floor, a sense of freedom bubbled. Freedom from the drab diner walls, the constantly aching feet, and the pressure of just getting by. Today, she wasn’t Allie the washed-up waitress. Today— well, she wasn’t quite sure who she was. Someone who rode in limos? Her lips puckered under the gloss, making her want to laugh at everything and nothing. For the first time in her life, Allie believed there might be more to this journey than passing time.
The brown and red brick buildings faded into gray and glass the closer they got to their destination.
She brushed her hand over the buttered caramel leather seat, letting out a sigh and all the apprehension she’d carried about going to this crazy lunch.
George stared at her from the backwards-facing seat, his jaw hanging open, for a full ten minutes. With a gulp, he crossed to sit next to her. “Hey, baby.”
Allie tucked her hands under her sparkle-butt jeans. “Knock it off.” “What? You look hot.” He leaned closer—like he was going to sniff her shoulder.
Allie pulled away. “Thanks—I think.”
He put his hand on her forearm. “Listen—”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the door opening as they arrived at their destination. Allie bailed before she knew if she was supposed to get out or not. She had an idea where George’s mind was headed, and it wasn’t going to Sunday school. In her haste, she nearly bowled over a woman with short blond hair and an iPad. “Sorry.”
The woman laughed easily. “It’s okay. I’m used to being run over by women wanting to meet Mark.”
Allie blinked. “Mark?”
“Mark Dubois.” She looked back and forth between Allie and George, who was climbing slowly out of the limo, unfolding his limbs as if he’d been packaged in there. He hooked a heavy bag over his shoulder.
“You are here for the lunch with Mark, Beau, and Anthony, aren’t you?” “Yes, we are.” George slung his arm across Allie’s shoulder. Deftly stepping aside, Allie tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled
her shoulders forward to ward off the heebie-geebies. The more familiar George became, the less she wanted to get to know him.
“Good. Follow me.” She walked ahead of them, her long stride indicating she knew where she was going and expected to be followed. “I’m Mark Dubois’s personal assistant, Kate, and I’ll be taking care of your schedule for the day.” She stopped just inside the doors to the fancy pizza place, allowing them inside before shutting the door.
Allie considered the rough-hewn log tables and metal chairs. A large brick oven roared behind the counter, where workers chopped and grated in preparation for the afternoon. There weren’t any customers, and Allie wondered if they were just as slow as the Star Café or if the place had been rented out for the occasion. Probably the latter.
George hurried ahead of Allie. “Do you have a special pen for autographs, or can they just use the Sharpie I brought?”
“Thank you for reminding me, Mr. Lee.” Kate eyed George’s backpack. “You’ll have an hour and a half to talk and eat with the guys, and then we’ll allow three autographs for each of you.”
“Just three?” George’s ears drooped. They actually sagged.
Allie stared in wonder, then tried to get hers to move. The most she accomplished was making weird faces. She caught Kate watching and composed herself.
“I was hoping to pull in some awesome gifts for the guys on the force,” added George.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Kate’s authoritative tone cut off his protests. Thinking about how she would feel if she wasn’t able to get that baseball for José after all Selina had done for her, Kate offered, “I only brought a baseball, so you can have two of my signatures.” “Thanks.” George brightened, and his ears were back in place. Allie caught Kate studying her. “Is that okay?” she asked, hoping she hadn’t broken some rule.
“Should be fine,” was Kate’s reply as she led them to a round table covered in papers and pens. “These are your nondisclosure statements.” “What for?” asked George.
“They basically say that you are not allowed to take photos with or of the guys. That if you do, you will not sell them to the media or post them online, and that you are not allowed to sell private information about the guys to the press.”
Allie signed without worry. Her Facebook page was so old it begged for Botox. She hadn’t been online since the day Reed posted a picture of him and his new girlfriend in Hawaii.HerHawaii. The Hawaii she was supposed to visit with the money in her savings account that no longer existed. Crazy that a bank could kick you out—erase you from their accounts. She hadn’t thought that was possible.
George wasn’t about to sign away his right to brag. He folded his arms, and for the first time that day Allie saw the cop who had stopped a robbery in progress.
Kate gave him an indulgent smile. “We’ve hired a professional photographer who will send you preapproved images to post on social networking sites.”
“As long as I get one with just me and Anthony.”
“We can certainly make that happen.”
