Page 27 of Not Bad for a Girl
“They don’t have money for promotions, Heidi,” I said, turning to look up at her. “We had to decouple, but they’ve found money in the budget for this place.” I gestured around the expansive floor before my eyes lit on a station in the corner. “And the rumors are true—there’s even an open bar. And look at all this food! The excess is sickening,” I grumbled. “This must have cost a fortune.”
Heidi nodded, her eyes fixed on Melvin. “It did. I was mainly in charge of organizing the guest list, which is why Patrick and Joseph are here, and I threw Jason on the list, too, just because. But I definitely didn’t have control of the budget. The brunch just started, and most of the food is already on the floor, too,” she murmured before suddenly jumping up and down. “Look! Melvin just licked his hand! I called it!” She spun around, doing a bad impression of the Running Man in her heels and floral dress.
“So gross.” I’d come here to find the perfect moment to tell Melvin the truth. I heard about the bar, so I thought maybe I could catch him a few whiskeys in. He’d be in a good mood, and we could both have a laugh about the Big Misunderstanding. But seeing it all in person… Melvin and the other bosses were serving the most condescending grins along with badly cooked food, enjoying their “cute” little role reversal, serving their servants.Barf. If I were being completely honest with myself, this was never a club I would want to belong to, whether they’d have me as a member or not. Maybe it was just the sight of so many health-code violations in one place that was getting to me. If they cut back on events like these, they could easily afford to pay their workers more.
I turned to Heidi and grabbed her arm to stop the dance. “I need more time. I don’t think I can tell anyone who I really am today. I’m already up way too early for a Saturday, and I might never eat again.”
She nodded. “Totally. This isn’t the best atmosphere for confessing anything.” She scanned the room, then pointed to a table in the distance, where Patrick was sitting with his husband, Joseph. “Let’s tell Patrick; then we can sit through the speeches and take off, okay?”
“Perfect.”
We made our way across the room.
When Patrick saw us, he waved widely and grinned. “Come say hi to Joseph.”
It was always great to see Joseph. He was at least six-four, with a bodybuilder’s physique and jet-black hair. He towered over me and always gave the gentlest hugs.
“It’s nice to see you again,” I said.
“You, too, Ana. Patrick’s been telling me about all the shenanigans.”
Patrick shrugged. “We have the best adventures, don’t we?”
“Great, so you’re up to speed,” I said as I slid into the seat next to Joseph. “I don’t think I can come clean today. Too many people are making me mad, and I haven’t even talked to anyone yet.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said. He looked up, and I followed his gaze. Jason Rhodes was coming toward us, dressed impeccably as always with (you guessed it) a Dos Equis in one hand. I hadn’t talked to him since he walked me home from my pottery class, and it was actually nice to see him. I’d told him then, a bit casually, about being mistaken for a man at work, but things had exploded since then.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Please,” I said. Jason sat next to Heidi, and she murmured a quick hello in his direction.
“Good to see you, Jason,” Patrick said. “Joseph and I were waiting, but now that you all are here, anyone up for a mimosa?”
“I think we’ll need them if we have to listen to the self-indulgent lectures about how great management is,” I grumbled. “I’ll go grab them.”
I hurried over to the bar, careful not to make eye contact with anyone as a couple of employees tested the microphone that had been set up on a makeshift podium. I smiled at the bartender. “Can I get a pitcher of mimosas, please?”
“Sure,” he said as he pulled up a shaker and began mixing ingredients. “That’ll be fifty-five dollars.”
I almost choked. “I’m sorry, I thought this was an open bar.”
“It is, for the VIPs. You have to be a managing director or higher to get free drinks. Do you have one of the badges? They gave them out this morning.”
“No, I don’t. They’re the ones who have the money, so they shouldn’t be the ones getting free drinks,” I explained.
He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”
“For real, fifty-five dollars?”
“Tips appreciated.”
I backed away as he tapped the tip jar. “Actually, I’m good, thanks,” I said. I looked over at our table and made eye contact with Patrick. “No open bar,” I mouthed. “Cruel joke.”
Patrick knit his brow and opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by the sound of the microphone squealing.
“Hello, everyone,” a man said, his voice echoing through the room.He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of those manager spotlight pieces they did on the website. “Thank you all for coming today. We appreciate that you’re spending your Saturday with us…”
I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by walking back to the table, so I stayed at the edge of the room near the “open” bar, staring longingly at the mimosas the bartender was mixing for someone else. No liquid courage for me.