Page 90 of You Found Me

They fell into a routine for the next hour, with a steady stream of tables flowing in and out. She took the order, turned it in, carried drinks, and delivered food. Mason refilled glasses and picked up dirty dishes, all of it with an easy rhythm that helped her relax.

Just when she thought she was getting the hang of things, a horde descended on Sevens and it was all she could do to keep from dropping things or tripping over her own feet.

Della carried two heavy plates through the crowd to table three, reaching it just as her arms started to give out. She set them down, relieved. “Can I get you anything else?”

“That’s not ours,” the harassed-looking woman with a messy bun and haughty nose said without looking up from her phone.

“You didn’t order the meatloaf?” She blinked at the food, then at them.

The woman’s friend or coworker, Della couldn’t tell which, waved her away. “We ordered salads.”

“Oh. Okay.” She didn’t remember anyone ordering a salad. Not in the last hour anyway.

She picked up the unwanted plates and turned slowly, looking for anyone who displayed a hint of recognition.

Nobody even looked in her direction except Ward, who watched her with a solemn expression she couldn’t quite interpret.

She could go back to the kitchen and sort through her tickets, but she didn’t think she’d make it. The plates were getting heavier every second.

“Screw that,” Della muttered, then raised her voice so that she could be heard over the hum of conversations. “Can I interest anybody in some truly tasty meatloaf?”

“If you sit and have lunch with me, sure,” a man at the next table over said with a wink and a grin.

“Wish I could,” she told him.

“Over here!” someone two tables over called out.

Right, the couple with the baby. She deposited the plates, but then they wanted ketchup, water, and extra napkins, and of course she had to coo over the baby and tell Mama how great she looked in that blazer.

Della found the ticket for two salads in her pocket and turned it in, then approached two ladies who’d been trying to catch her eye.

“So, Lucy, right? How did you meet our Donovan? Was it in California?” a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair and a crisp red shirt asked.

“Yes, it was.” Della kept her face happy, but her insides clenched.

“I win the bet! I told Elyse he’d meet an actress there. I heard you met at a bar. Was it that one all the celebrities go to?” herfriend, a slightly younger version in stilettos, asked. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“Uh, no. I’ve never been there either,” Della said, glad that she didn’t have to actually lie about that. She hadn’t been in LA long enough to visit all the hot spots, and Piper hated those places anyway. “What can I bring you ladies to drink?”

“I’ll take a Coke,” Blondie said. “I bet he swept you off your feet. Right? He’s such a catch. I always said that Rachel was a damn fool to let him get away.”

It seemed a little rude to bring up an ex-girlfriend to the current girlfriend. Della turned to Stilettos, her voice a little frostier than she intended. “And you?”

“Diet Coke.” Stilettos tilted her head. “So are there wedding bells in our future?”

“I’m sure someone in this town is bound to make them ring sooner or later.” Della winked and strode away before they could dig any deeper.

These ladies were amateurs. She’d dealt with paparazzi who practiced invading personal space like it was an Olympic sport, but this seemed different. For the first time in her life, she wanted to keep her private life private, and not just because it was a cover story.

She actually cared what Ward thought about her. She hadn’t really thought about it, and she had no idea when it had happened, but she did. She cared. She wanted to prove to him that she could do a good job. That she wasn’t just a spoiled celebrity.

It was all delicate and new and confusing, and she had no intention of letting local gossips screw with it, and not just because she was supposed to be in hiding.

She moved on to tables more interested in food than her fake love life, but she was so distracted that she got the next three orders all wrong.

By the time she got those sorted out, there was a backlog of other orders. Cherry tried to help her, but by then some of the plates were cold and had to be sent back to the kitchen, which made her feel horrible.

She needed to tell Ralph to keep her paycheck for all the chaos.