Good Game (The System, #1) (44)

Sighing, I pick up the stupid thing and throw it, a little aggressively, into the trash can next to me. The young girl behind the counter gives me a concerned look before continuing to serve the customer in front of her.

Today, the rose was taped to my take-out juice order. He must be tracking my credit card or something. I’m not sure how he would have access to it, but Chase has enough money that I suppose anything is possible. I stab a reusable straw through my green tonic and take a long sip, the tang of ginger curbing my annoyance. It was a great day until this point. I was excited to go hang out with Dee. Now, Chase’s ugly shadow looms over it. Asshole.

I fiddle with the take-out bag, which contains another green tonic for Deanna plus a vitality juice for me, as I try to take my phone out of my pocket, all while walking toward the exit. A clear recipe for disaster when I look up just in time to bump into a petite blonde.

My drinks remain intact, but hers goes sloshing onto the ground, the red color seeping onto the floor like a bloody massacre.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

An employee rushes over with a mop to clean the spillage in record time, all the while the girl just looks up at me with a bewildered expression.

Her gray eyes blink beneath her bangs before she lets out the loudest laugh I’ve heard in a long time. Tears start seeping out of the corners of her eyes, and I begin to wonder if I have somehow broken her in the process.

“No, you’re fine. It’s completely my fault for just stopping midstride.” She waves her phone around. “I just got an emergency work notification which has me on the verge of murdering my employer, so it is only right that I now look like I have committed one.”

I look down and notice that her white pumps are now painted in the red juice; my Gucci sneakers somehow spared.

“Shit, here, let me help.”

I guide her over to one of the closest tables, depositing my juices on it before grabbing the napkins in the bag and attempting to clean her shoes with them.

It’s not doing a great job. A faint pink residue remains on the otherwise pristine patent leather.

“What the hell was in that drink?” I mutter to myself.

“Beetroot.”

“Ah. The most dangerous yet delicious vegetable.”

“It’s lovely to meet someone who understands the appeal and thrill of beets.”

I laugh with her now, getting up from my crouch and joining her at the table. She has one of those small, round faces that look angelic in nature, like those “no-makeup makeup” models you see online.

“I’m Sydney.” She reaches out her hand, and I take it.

“Stevie.”

“Well, Stevie, while it is sad to lose a juice, I am glad you managed to distract me long enough to calm my murderous rage to more of a potential accidental homicide.”

I smile at her for a second, before cringing.

“Seriously, though. Can I get you another juice? Or shoes? I was also totally distracted.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the shoes,” she waves me off. “I’ll make my employer buy me a new pair. He is the main reason this all happened anyway. And I already had a second juice, and technically a third and fourth.” She pulls out an identical red drink from her own white take-out bag. “I was planning on bringing it back for the guys, but one of them is now on my shit list, so I’ll just have his.” She then proceeds to take a long, loud sip as if to prove her point to me.

She’s sweet. I think. Murder jokes aside.

I eye the time on my phone. I still have a good twenty minutes before I need to meet up with Deanna.

“So, why is this guy on your shit list?”

“Oh, god.” She rolls her eyes. “it’s a whole story.”

I take another sip of my drink and lean forward on the table.

“Basically, I work as a publicist for these three guys. I was able to get this amazing partnership for them, one that they all agreed on.” She leans in to whisper, “They’re easier when they work together.” She shifts back. “Anyway, the photoshoot for the collaboration was today, and one of them didn’t go. Just didn’t show up.” She slams her juice on the table. “I knew I should’ve ridden there with them myself. But no, they assured me it was fine. To trust them. ‘Don’t worry, Syd,’ they said. ‘We won’t screw up.’ Liars.”

“No way, did he tell you why he didn’t show up?”

She scoffs before taking an angry sip of her juice. “Yeah, his excuse was that the other two were already going, so it should be fine. Like he isn’t the main face of the damn group.”

“Oof, so now what?”

“Now I need to find a separate time to get him to do the shoot individually. Which he will probably try and skip out on again.” She groans. “Men. They act like little boys sometimes, I swear.”

“At least it’s the weekend so you get to relax.”

“Ha, there’s no relaxing when you work PR for these guys.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I mean, you just never know when a fire is going to break out. I could be on a cruise ship to the Bahamas and find out one of them had public sex in a fountain, or I could be sitting at home for five days and not hear a peep.”

I’m beginning to seriously wonder just who these guys are that she represents. Public sex in a fountain? Sounds like some weird rock star shit.