Evie

The night went on and I continued setting tables for a private event set for this evening. It was a nice little break from the constant stream of guests that would come through.

It was hard to tune out the highlight reels of the Thunderbolts Captain being the leading scorer in the league and becoming the rookie of the year.

How some people manage to become that successful amazes me. He must be the city’s favorite little hockey star.

I hummed quietly to myself as I moved around the dining room.

“Waitress,” a woman’s shrill voice squawked. “Waitress!”

My head snaps up at the signal. “I’m so sorry, mam,” I apologize carefully. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, for starters, why don’t you actually serve me,” she scolds. “I have been sitting here for ten minutes trying to get your attention!”

I looked around. My eyes were starting to turn towards where I stood.

“Absolutely, mam,” I stammer. “What can I get you?”

“I need a drink, but everyone in here seems to be too distracted by the craziness outside,” she says with a huff.

I looked down at her glass. “What kind of wine would you like?”

“Your most expensive bottle. Make it snappy,” she orders sharply.

“Anything else?”

a super important guest coming. Bring

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,”

like this make me

the table. The woman watched

“Anything—“

red wine over my face shut

she laughed smugly. “That’s for being incompetent and ruining our night.”

“Are you not embarrassed

win,” Stella pouted innocently. “We can do

– He

once again lost any and all ability

go get yourself cleaned, sweetie, before that

take deep breaths, it brought me back to the torment of

minutes later, I finally managed to calm myself down and I

smoothly. At least I made good tips tonight. Maybe it was the pity of the entire restaurant that filled my pockets. They all felt bad for the girl who got wine thrown in her face.

my bag, throwing it tiredly over my shoulder. Without a single word, I head out the back of the restaurant and onto the street.

was zooming down the street in

“Wait!”

spun around. There behind the wheel of that crazy sports car, sat the one and only

eyes of his and his chestnut hair. His face, though still youthful, had matured in all the best ways. His cheeks were toned and

this night get any

Sinclair, are

up the

hold on a minute,” he shouts quickly. “I know you. I swear I’ve seen

him

least give you a ride,” he

the grate on the sidewalk, snapping it from beneath me. Stumbling forward, I hear

night could get so

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