His unreadable gaze flicks toward me, then he resumes his walk, turning so I can see his face better. His eyes are cold and utterly uninterested. My stomach twists, and I feel like all the light inside me suddenly got snuffed out.
If he said no to the redhead, a sophisticated woman who’s dolled up and gorgeous and asking for his help oh-so prettily, there’s no way he’s going to say yes to me. Especially when I’ve got a problem far more complicated and dangerous than a twisted ankle.
So…about that sign? Psych! I can hear the universe laughing at me.
My whole body seems to want to collapse into itself under the crushing weight of disappointment. His saving me from that flasher was a big deal. To me, anyway. His popping up at the café on my first day was a big deal. And then running into him again here.
But none of that matters to him. I look around. A few people are whispering, careful not to stare at him for too long. But he seems nonchalant, like he’s used to the attention—an apex predator coolly prowling the jungle. And he wouldn’t care if something happened to one of the helpless animals.
I shake off a sense of defeat. I’m not being paid to feel sorry for myself, and in any case, self-pity isn’t going to solve anything.
Do your job. And figure out how to talk to him later. The event isn’t over yet.
Pasting on an empty smile, I go to the redhead. “Here. The Chardonnay you asked for.”
She jumps to her feet, her eyes flashing. “Who wants it now?” She tosses her hair over her shoulder and stalks away.
Guess that ankle is okay after all. And she doesn’t care if Tolyan sees it. Must be nice to not have any care in the world.
I look at the wine she doesn’t want. Wish I weren’t working so I could drink it instead.
Or that I didn’t need the money, so I could throw the wine at her.
I take a deep breath and return to the ballroom. Mina tells me to help clean up, so I grab a tray and go out and load empty glasses to take back. Fueled by alcohol and food, the conversations are louder now, the laughter more uproarious.
After going back and forth between the ballroom and the kitchen countless times, my arms start to ache. Jogging trains the legs more than the arms, and the empty stemware and plates are heavier than they look.
One of the tux-clad guests stumbles backward, saying something drunkenly. Everything seems to slow as I realize I’m not going to be able to get out of the way in time. But suddenly another person is there, between me and the man, preventing him from making contact.
I blink, breath caught. It’s Tolyan, standing there like an impenetrable, unscalable wall.
Maybe this is the chance I need. But as he gives me a quick once-over, every last neuron in my mind goes blank.
Finally, he says, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say automatically. Then I add, “Thank you.”
“Oh, it’s you, Tolyan.” The drunk guest rights himself. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were behind me.”
Tolyan looks at someone in a knot of guests to our right. The person starts, then comes over and takes the man away.
I lick my lips, nerves prickling and palms sweaty. Don’t act timid or nervous. It isn’t like I’m going to ask Tolyan to help me for free. I can pay. I have some money saved up, for the time after Roy’s gone. Whenever my balance goes up, I dream a little of the life I’ll be able to have. A real, permanent home. College. The possibilities are limitless, and they ma
ke my heart pump with hopeful excitement.
But if I need to spend it on making Roy go away instead… Well, it’ll be worth it. I can always start saving up again.
I open my mouth, then stop. Still too many people around. I can’t just blurt out my proposal.
Just then, my belly growls. Loudly. Regardless, I pretend like I haven’t made any noise. He probably didn’t hear. It’s noisy in the ballroom.
Tolyan gestures at the door leading to the kitchen.
Yeah, yeah, I know I should go back to doing my job. But I can’t go like this. What if he’s gone when I come out?
When I don’t move, his eyebrows pinch briefly. Then he opens the door. “Here.”
The proper response would be a polite “thank you,” but the words stick in my throat. His frown deepens. Then he takes the tray off me and walks through the door himself.