“If I say yes, will you stay through the reception and save me from this hell?”
“Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll stay.”
He glanced at his watch. “Based on my experience at weddings so far this summer, I’d say that we have about a ten-minute window for you to tell me everything I need to know about my plus-one before we go in there.”
“Wait, where will I sit? And what about food? Aren’t these things planned down to a science.”
“It’s a buffet, and if we’re a chair short, we’ll just tell someone at the venue that they must have miscounted the chairs. They’ll bring us one without questioning anything.”
“Are you sure you haven’t crashed weddings before?” I asked skeptically.
He finished his drink and leaned forward. “I told you; I’ve been to a lot of these recently. And you know what I’ve observed at them?”
“What?”
“No one gives a shit what anyone else is doing. Everyone is dancing, drinking, and focused on themselves. The staff who work these weddings have one job: solve any problem without alerting the bride and groom. A chair is a minor request.”
“Okay. You seem smart, so I’m just going to trust you on this one.” I pulled my hair over one shoulder. “What do you want to know about your plus-one.”
“Anything you can cover in nine minutes,” he said. “Talk as fast as you want, I’ll remember it all.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No straight man has ever remembered everything a woman in a cleavage-bearing dress says.”
His eyes locked on mine, and I saw the wheels in his mind spin again, but he must have thought better of whatever he was going to say because he shook his head slightly before saying, “I have an exceptional memory.”
“So, what, you remember everything perfectly?”
“No, I make memory errors just like everyone else. I just remember far more details about an experience than most people. Trust me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I remember every horrible thing that happens just as well as the good things.”
I reached for his hand and found it right where I’d left it on the table. Like he’d kept it there in case I came back. “I’m sorry you remember the shitty stuff the rest of us want to forget, but I’m prepared to give your exceptional memory a run for its money. How many minutes do I have?”
He looked at his watch again. “Seven, Olivia. Get talking.”
I chuckled. “Okay, okay. I’m twenty-four. I’m an only child to a single mom and a man who barely deserves the title of father since I’ve seen him, like, a dozen times in my life. I grew up in Boston but went to college at Georgetown. The distance nearly killed my mother—and me. We’re very close. I moved home after college and got a job as a waitress.” I paused. “Need me to slow down?”
“Not at all, keep going.” He rotated his wrist in the universal sign forhurry upand I took another sip of wine and a deep breath to power through.
“I still work at the same restaurant where I started. I like waitressing but I’m really interested in trying bartending. My boss is a total perv, and if I ask him to let me bartend, I’m pretty sure he’ll request something lewd and disgusting in return. I should probably find a new job, but I feel a little guilty having paid for a degree in business and then making an active choice to stay in waitressing.”
“What do you like about waitressing?” he asked.
“I like the fast-paced hustle and bustle during the dinner rush. I like seeing families out celebrating or couples on first dates. People experience some of their greatest life moments in restaurants and I get to witness it all. It’s kind of cool. Plus, I have no desire to be in the corporate world. I like local restaurants run by good people. I could probably see myself managing a place like that someday.”
“And yet you keep workingfor the perv?”
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Yeah,” I sighed. “You ever stop and wonder how badly our parents screw us up sometimes?”
Kayden scoffed. “Far more often than is healthy, I’m sure.”
“Well, my dad breezing in and out of my life made me feel like I didn’t deserve good things. It’s like he’s the dad I got, and I should just be happy about that. I think it’s kind of like that with my job. Like, this is the manager I’ve got, and maybe it’s the one I deserve.”
“Absolutely no one deserves to be harassed at work,” Kayden said firmly. “There’s a good chance even your dad, absent as he may be, would agree with that one.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I should probably quit.”
“You should definitely quit,” he said as the wedding coordinator stepped into the room, announcing that it was time to move to the dining room.
“I will quit tomorrow,” I said, finishing my wine and setting it down on the table.
