Emma

She Is Love

"So when are you seeing him again?"

"Tomorrow."

She squeals for me. "I knew it! I knew there was something there. All night, you were giving each other googly eyes, flirting, and all that crap."

I cock an eyebrow, "I detested him during those times. I was most definitely not flirting." I sigh. "Anywho, he's taking me to dinner at some restaurant. I have to dress in something nice. That's what he said anyway."

Tabitha and I are in the powder room in the biggest hall available for rent in town. We're getting dressed into our catering uniforms. A white blouse, black skirt and modest black heels, or that's what we're suppose to wear. I've chosen to wear black tights under my skirt. My friend decided to wear red pumps instead of black and her pencil skirt that may or may not be too short for tonight's event.

As soon as we finish that, we fix our make up. I have to dab the right side of my face carefully to cover the bruise from that blow on Friday night. I usually never wear this much stuff on my face, but I can't walk around serving drinks with a battered face. And I can't afford to not work tonight. To add to my cover, I've also chosen to wear my hair down in my face. I stare into the vanity mirror moving my face this way and that to make sure I got every inch. Once I'm satisfied, I back away.

"So what happened yesterday morning?" She sits me down on the bench and takes the space next to me. "I want every detail."

"Well, honestly, not much happened. He apologized about a million more times. He said he felt terrible about his ass of a brother, and that's on the way to the bar. We didn't have much time to talk after that because he had to go pick up his brother. The bride never found out about it." The corners of my lips curl up, "But right before I drove off, he wanted to make up for the whole fiasco."

She squeals again, "Awe! That's freaking so cute."

I held my hand up, "But... I told him I didn't want to go anywhere if it felt like an obligation."

Her expression drops. Tabitha's hands form fists and she lifts them in the air, but her fingers flex out. "Why would you do that?! I thought you said you were seeing him tomorrow?"

The smile is clear on my face now, "That's when he said he just wanted an excuse to see me again." She snatches me up from my seat and we jump up and down with excitement. "I never thought this kind of stuff could ever happen to me."

"I told you so! I told you so! I told you!" my friend sings as we continue to go in a circle.

After a few moments of girlish joy, we control ourselves.

We are in for one heck of a night. Weddings can get just as bad at the Friday night shifts, sometimes worst than what happened this past Friday. Drunks are welcomed and crazy relatives run rampant around these sort of events. Talk about family drama. And then there's the gossip. The staff hears everything because they act like we're not even there. Which I guess is okay with me. It's not like I know any of these people.

It beats getting hit on.

I'm not saying this doesn't happen at wedding receptions. They do, but they're easier situations to slip out of. Clumps of people to escape behind, other people to serve on the other side of the room, need to refill the tray because it looks empty. I can deal with wedding receptions. I prefer catering and bartending at one then at the restaurant I work at.

People are just starting to arrive to the hall around eight. There's an open bar and I have the first shift on it tonight. I pour specialty drink after specialty drink for countless friends and family members of the newlyweds, who I have yet to see. I do appreciate the occasional soda, water or ice tea, giving the person a genuine smile instead of my business mask.