Bird-Dogging: an Academy Fan Fiction [on hold indefinitely]

Chapter Twenty-five

          We worked together for the next two hours. Victor put himself on dishwashing duty. I tried to scrounge up an apron for him, but he waved me off when I'd approached him with the pink and white candy striped one I'd found, insisting my dress was more important. He sent off a few text messages, and read quite a few responses, but other than that, he worked hard and pitched in wherever he was needed. It was an admirable quality.

          Javi and I were like a well-oiled machine. We kept things going. Even Alisha was more helpful than usual, but her willingness to help with the dishes for once most likely had more to do with the handsome guy passing her the plates and glasses to rinse and dry than anything else. I couldn't blame her either. I caught myself watching Victor enough to know I was crossing the line from curious to creeper. Who knew doing the dishes could be sexy?

          We had everything done and cleaned up within half an hour after the last guest had left. The truck was loaded ten minutes later. When Javi offered to take me home, Victor declined for me. "Thank you, Javier. But I'll be taking Sang to Mr. Bowers," he said as he redid the buttons on his cuffs before pulling his tuxedo jacket back on. He stuffed his bow tie in his pants pockets and then combed his fingers through his hair. "We need to go before Mrs. Carmichael comes in looking to pay the invoice. Harris has the car out back for us." He offered me his arm.

          I stripped off the apron. Javi held his hand out for it with a smirk. "You make sure you have her home at a reasonable hour, Mr. Morgan." His eyes didn't once leave my face as he spoke, and I blushed at what he was insinuating. I handed him the apron a bit more forcefully than needed. "And, Sang." He lost his smirk. "Call me and let me know what's going on?"

          "Of course." Dusty and Billy were just as important to Javi as they were to me. They'd helped him get off the streets when they found him eight years ago crying behind their building. He'd been beaten bloody by the gang whose border he'd crossed when his bosses had sent him to try to expand their own territory. When Dusty had explained to him that they'd sent him in hoping he would die so they could retaliate in good conscience, Javi had agreed to their help. He and Dusty ran the catering business together. They were his family.

          I took Victor's arm. He opened the back door and held it for me. The perfect southern gentleman. I smiled at him as I walked through.

          "Harris will take us where he dropped Dusty off earlier tonight."

         "Thank you so much, Victor. I'm so sorry about tonight." Thinking about how I'd ruined his evening had my stomach in knots.

          He opened the car door, and we both slid in. After telling Harris where we were headed, he turned to me. "I'm not sorry about tonight. If anything, I should be thanking you for rescuing me from an evening of chicken liver pate and mind-numbing gossip. If I hadn't escaped to the kitchens with you, I'd have been forced to smile as people scandalized over old Mr. Wade's twenty-four year old mistress and how Estelle Cross wore the same dress last year."

          I giggled. "They can't possibly care about someone's dress." That earned me a genuine smile.

         "They shouldn't. But they do."

          I looked down at my dress. I thought it was the most beautiful piece of clothing I would ever own. The idea that it could be the subject of ridicule if it was worn again cast a shadow over the pride I felt in having something so lovely. Then I caught sight of my cheap slide on canvas shoes poking out beneath the hem of the dress and realized that I'd never fit in with any crowd that would care. I slipped my feet out of the shoes and pulled my feet up under my bum.