Play Maker(6)

But still, I felt a headache building at the back of my skull. This was the last thing I needed right now. Between jetlag and the tabloids and the awareness of my mum’s disapproval and big life changes on the horizon, I just wanted to lose myself in something. Or better yet, in someone. Didn’t we have a cocktail thing at the hotel tonight? That was exactly what I needed. Just get through practice, I told myself. After all this, you’ve definitely earned a cold drink, a hot shower and an equally hot f*ck. And not necessarily in that order.





3





Nicole





When I walked into the bar that night, Maya was already talking to our manager, Steve. He waved me over and when I came over to the bar, he did what he usually did. He reached down and pinched my ass. Since I really needed this job, I forced a smile when what I really wanted to do was punch him in the face.

“Got my best babes on the job tonight.” He gave me what he probably thought was an appealing wink. “Maya will fill you in,” he said before sauntering away.

What a sleazeball.

I looked back at Maya who was so excited that she was vibrating.

“What was he talking about?” I asked, now curious.

“V.I.P.s!” she leaned over to grab my arms, giving me a shake with each letter. “V. I. P. Private. Party.”

We both knew what that meant. Lots of drinking and big, fat tips.

Even though those parties were open bar, paid for by the hotel, our tip jar was always out and it always got filled. And usually the attendees were drunk enough to open their wallets pretty wide. The size of the tip usually depended on the kind of group we were hosting. Corporate VIPs were good. Entertainment VIPs were better. And…

“What kind of VIPs?” I needed to know.

Maya’s eyes sparkled. “Athletes.”

Fuck yeah. I could practically see money signs flashing above Maya’s head and I’m sure I looked the same. No one topped athletes when it came to tipping at the end of a night. They spent money like it was going out of business. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Last month, Mikey had fallen down the stairs and a trip to the emergency room had cut into our already tight monthly budget. Thankfully he had only needed a few stitches but the bill had been keeping me up at night.

“What kind of athletes?” I asked. Not like my knowledge of sports expanded beyond the Little League Challenger games I had taken Mikey to. That was during the very brief period when he was interested in playing baseball.

“Soccer players,” Maya breathed. “British soccer players.”

Damn. Nothing made me swoon faster than an English accent. And athletes – of all stripes – were notorious playboys. Fat chance any of them would look at me, or Maya, with a relationship in mind.

From the glint in her eyes, I could tell that Maya was thinking the exact same thing.

“You know I get first dibs,” I reminded her and she frowned.

“Dammit.” She slapped the bar. That was our rule. If we both spotted a hot guy, the girl who had gotten laid the most recently had to step aside for the one who needed it more. Slut code. Nothing more sacred. And right now, I needed I hot guy really f*cking bad. It had been over three weeks. Way too long.

“How did it go with the agent last night, by the way?” I asked, coming around to her side of the bar.

“Ugh.” She sprawled dramatically over the polished wood.

“That bad?”

“Well.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “The waffles were good.”

I winced and she shrugged.

“It wasn’t terrible.” She began pulling out glasses.

“Just not great,” I finished for her. “Did he try to cuddle too?”

She nodded. “It’s just like you said last night – more and more guys seem to think ‘one night stand’ is code for ‘first date’.”

“It’s the new meet-cute,” I joked. “I don’t think we’ll have that problem with any of tonight’s VIPs. Athletes aren’t known for their unquenchable desire for pillow talk.”

“I hope not,” Maya winked at me. “Or I’d be really worried for the state of our society.”



By the time we opened for the party, I had learned a whole lot more about our visitors from across the pond, thanks to Manager Steve who was the hotel’s biggest gossip. In town for an exhibition of some sort, they had arrived yesterday and were staying in the hotel, which was close to the convention center where they practiced and where the exhibition would be held in a week or so. This event was the hotel’s effort to welcome them to Los Angeles, so they were sparing no expense with booze and appetizers.

Maya had pulled up some photos on her phone and damn, if I hadn’t considered taking up a dedicated interest in soccer. Or football as the Brits seemed to call it. Apparently, they really didn’t like it when Americans confused the two, as Manager Steve had reiterated at least twelve times during our pre-opening debriefing. We had more staff than usual, four more girls who would be out in the crowd with trays of food and eventually getting drink orders, but it was still just me and Maya behind the bar. I preferred it that way – I was only interested in the guys who came to me, anyways. I didn’t need to be wooed, but I sure as hell liked to be pursued.