Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“What?” I asked her.
She had a tray filled with crystal champagne flutes.
“I said, I am going to finish giving these out, then go take my break.”
I nodded instead of trying to talk over the music. The live band was also on a break, and I was looking forward to their return. They weren’t this loud. I much preferred working weddings and classy rich-people parties. I wasn’t a fan of this type of event. The catering company I worked for paid well though, and the tips I received made it even more worth it. Except for tonight. Nothing made working at some frat house event, hosted by older men who had once been in the fraternity, worth it. I didn’t understand college Greek life, but this event seemed like a way for wealthy, old men to relive their youth.
Turning, I made my way through the crowd, smiling and pausing as guests took the appetizers from my tray. A college-aged guy winked at me while his date was clinging to his side. That was typical at this kind of thing. Even the older men with wedding rings would give me leers and make suggestive comments. I always stuck my tray in their face and asked if they’d like whatever I was serving to keep them far enough away so they didn’t touch me. It did the trick most of the time.
Stopping at the next group of people, I sighed when the music ended and the band returned. The lead singer was speaking over the microphone when I held out the tray with my practiced smile.
“Would you like a—” The words halted as I stared into a familiar face.
Those brown eyes I hadn’t seen since graduation widened only slightly before turning away from me and looking at the girl at his side.
“Would you like one?” Bowie asked the brunette.
She shook her head. “I don’t eat seafood.”
He lifted his eyes to the guy standing across from him and began to carry on a conversation. I regained my composure and turned my attention to the others to make sure no one wanted anything before I left them.
“I don’t do shrimp, but I’d like your number,” the guy to the left of me said, leaning toward me with a cocky grin.
His brown hair was long and tucked behind his ears. He was used to getting what he wanted. That was clear from the way he was looking at me. I was sure he had a trust fund to go with his attractive face. If Bowie hadn’t been standing there, acting as if I were some stranger, then I would have ignored the guy.
But I was annoyed that Bowie was still treating me as if I were invisible after all this time, so I returned the flirty smile and gave him Quinn’s number.
I wasn’t about to give him mine, and I knew Quinn wouldn’t be mad about it. He was her favorite type.
He pulled out his phone and plugged in the number. I flashed one more smile, making it a point not to look at Bowie before I went through the crowd and continued to do my job. Once the tray was empty, I hurried to the back in search of Quinn. I also needed a moment to think this through.
Why was Bowie here, in Hilton Head? I had assumed he’d gone to Gainesville for college. Although seeing as he’d completely shut me out of his life, I didn’t know for sure. Was he here with a friend? Maybe it was the girl he was with. I set the tray down and walked over to get a glass of water. I needed to take my break.
“You look rattled. Did some douche canoe touch you?” Quinn asked as she walked up to me.
I shook my head and downed the rest of the water in my glass.
“Then, what happened?” she pushed.
I put the glass back down and looked at her. “Remember the guy I told you about that Kye and I were friends with, growing up?”
She nodded. “The one you dated, then kissed Kye, and he dropped both of you.”
“Yes, that one. His name is Bowie … and he’s here.”
Her mouth fell open. “No fucking way!”
I nodded. “Yep. I just offered him a shrimp cocktail. He recognized me, obviously, but he acted like he didn’t know me. Which, after the thing with Kye, when he treated me as if I were invisible in school, I should have expected this, but I don’t know. It’s been a few years. We’ve grown up. I just kinda thought he’d be over it. That he’d say, Oh, hey, Genesis. How’s life?—or something like that.”
Had I really wanted him to do that? Maybe. I wasn’t even sure. Seeing him had definitely messed with my head.
“You must have broken him hard, girl. If he’s still pissed about that kiss, what, three years later … damn.”