Good Game (The System, #1) (3)
“She’s still pissed about that time you finger banged that chick at the Streamzies,” Jackson chuckles.
“That’s because she said no fucking. Fingering didn’t count.”
The event was over a year ago, but Syd still uses it as leverage. The girl, some stream bunny, had gone around bragging to all of her friends after our little rendezvous. The news spread faster than an STI in a nursing home, and I was a trending hashtag, again. Everyone was talking about how, even after all these years of streaming, I hadn’t grown out of my bad boy ways. And yet these same people wonder why I stopped going to events. Why I drew back from the toxic limelight.
I wonder just how much trouble I would get in if I sent a body double in my place to the VSAs…
The microwave beeps, jarring me out of my spiraling thoughts. I toss a set of forks on the island before pulling the lasagnas out and taking a seat next to Jackson. The food is piping hot, but my starving body inhales it anyway. All the while, I plan for some way to make this upcoming ceremony a little more exciting.
TWO
* * *
STEVIE
“Damn, Stevie. You’re going to put the rest of us out of our jobs.”
I smirk, admiring myself in the mirror.
“Hey, you’re the one who called asking for an emergency set of extra hands,” I smooth down my black mini dress and re-cup my boobs, “and you know I always bring my A-game.”
“Mmm,” Deanna hums, “more like your dick game.”
I swat her arm with a flick of my wrist before grabbing my name tag and pinning it to my chest. I look at myself again, assessing the length of my dress and tugging on the hem. Damn it, is it too short? My ass is as round as a deflated balloon, so I didn’t think it mattered if the dress was a little on the shorter side. Whatever, it’s cute and I don’t have a change of clothes.
“Speaking of your dick game, have you heard from Chase?”
As if she spoke him into existence, my phone buzzes and I see a new text from said ex-boyfriend. I know that if I were to unlock it, the series of unread texts he has sent me over the last three days would glare back at me. All one hundred and fifteen of them. This is the third time I’ve broken up with Chase and the fifth time I have caught him cheating on me over the last five years. Which makes me seem like a bit of a dumbass because who goes back to a guy after he cheats on her a second time?
Me. Clearly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“He’s been sending gifts to my place, and I’m five minutes away from moving.”
“You would sooner sell your kidney than move apartments, Stevie.”
I sigh because she’s right. I received the apartment from my yiayia’s will along with a hefty inheritance that goes into effect once I turn thirty. I love my parents, but it was my yiayia who spent the most time with me as a child, who gave me a place to turn to when the only people at home were nannies and butlers. The apartment is everything to me. Which means that even though Chase could literally sit in the lobby and greet me every morning if he wanted to, I wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to down your mood.” I turn back to Deanna as she gathers me in a bear hug, the familiar scent of her coconut body lotion grounding me.
“It’s fine. I’ll just focus on the free booze we’ll get to take after the shift.”
“And the fine men we will be serving.”
“Dee, half the men in there are vampires who flinch at the sight of sunlight.”
“And the other half are guys who are only popular because they’re hot.”
“Fair.”
“And just imagine the kinky shit they are probably into.”
She bumps her hip into me, and I smile at the prospect. While Chase may have cheated on me multiple times, I remained woefully faithful to him. Which meant five years of sex that consisted mostly of reverse cowgirl.
I hate reverse cowgirl.
With each breakup, I became more bitter. Each time he cheated on me, my resolve strengthened. After nursing a killer hangover yesterday, I came to the conclusion that this time Chase and I were done. For good. I’m not wasting the rest of my twenties on him.
“Alright, ladies, let’s get you all lined up and I’ll go over the rules for tonight.” Deanna’s aunt Lia strides through the door in a pair of silver Iriza Louboutin heels and a striking all-white pantsuit that is stark against her dark skin. Dee tugs on my hand, and we fall in line with the other women working tonight. “The VSA is a platinum event.” She props a hand on her hip. “We have five champagne carts posted across the floor; you should already know if you are stationed there. Everyone else, you will begin making the rounds with the champagne, and you can restock at the carts. Pay attention to the tables with white tablecloths, those are streamers and VIP guests. If they want a drink, you get them that drink. No matter their questions, the answers are always yes. Tables without white tablecloths do not get table service. I don’t care if they want water, they can get up and get it themselves; you are not being paid to cater to them.” She claps her hands. “You head out in five. Grab a gold tray by the door, make sure your bags are stocked, and smile.”
***
It’s been an hour and my smile already aches.