“So you weren’t scared off by the food after all.”
“I guess I got hungry.”
She holds up a finger to the bartender, who seems to understand. She takes the chair to my left, and a moment later the waiter comes over with Natalie’s beer and another Coke for me. When she looks at my glass, I say, “I turn twenty-one August twelfth.”
“Cool,” she says. “That’s the night of Summer Fest, so it’ll be a doubly special party. So, Kate…I can call you that, right?”
Before I can tell her that I’m really not a nickname kind of person, three girls file through the door, the first holding up three fingers to the same guy behind the bar.
“Hey, guys!” Natalie waves them over then pulls her blue-streaked hair up into a topknot. “You guys, this is Kate, the new summer girl I was telling you about. Kate, this is Alli, Rachel, and Elise.” She gestures with her hand at each one.
I sit, stunned. They are all dressed like walking art projects, each one easy and creative and oblivious to any fashion rules. My heather-gray cardigan and dark jeans make me look like a dull little pebble on a lakeshore full of agates.
“Welcome,” the first girl, Alli, says on a laugh. Her voice reminds me of Bazooka bubblegum, girlish and sweet. She’s wearing faded jeans that are practically painted onto curves my mom would call Rubenesque, along with a vintage, pink cardigan—a possible match for me in terms of preppiness, except that the pearl buttons strain across her chest, and her neck is layered in at least a half dozen strings of sparkly beads. Her dark brown hair, too, is not unlike mine, except she makes it look sexy, the way it falls haphazardly over one eye.
I couldn’t help but notice there was more than one man who watched her walk in. Involuntarily, my hand smooths my hair back into its ponytail.
Alli gives me a dazzling smile. Jesus, even her teeth are beautiful. “Glad you could make it tonight,” she says, taking the chair to my right. “I was hoping you would.”
“Yeah, hey,” the next girl says throatily. Her voice is sultry, as if Lauren Bacall swallowed a spoonful of gravel. “I’m Rachel.” She reaches across the table to shake my hand, and her wide-necked, embroidered peasant blouse slips off one bare shoulder.
In contrast to Alli, Rachel is thin and athletic-looking, with long, toned arms. She probably doesn’t need a bra and, in fact, I doubt she’s wearing one. Her hair is wrapped and twisted with a colorful scarf, so at first I don’t notice the dreads. A second later, as she pulls out a chair, I recognize her as the checkout girl from Art Musique.
The third girl, Elise, is petite with spiky, cropped hair that’s dyed white-blond with dark roots. She takes the chair between Rachel and Natalie. I adjust my chair so all five are evenly spaced and nicely ordered around the table.
Three pairs of eyes fix on me as the waiter returns with more beers. When he walks away, Alli gives me another brilliant smile and says, “So, let’s hear it.”
“Let’s hear what?” I ask, with a wide-eyed glance at Natalie. It doesn’t look like she’s going to be any help; she’s slamming her beer and raising the empty glass to the bartender.
“Your story, of course.” Alli rests her chin in her hand, and she looks ready to wait all night.
“My story?” I say, my voice cracking.
“Easy, Al,” says Rachel. “Do you have to put a spotlight on her? Give her a freakin’ break.”
“No, let’s hear it,” Elise says testily. “I’ve only got a babysitter until eight. What brings you to Little Bear besides Calloway’s outrageous salary?”
Alli moves her hands to under the table and leans her breasts against the edge so they nearly explode out of her sweater.
I glance at Natalie, who’s doing nothing but enjoying the show. She raises her eyebrows at me and says, “Rock and roll!”
I sigh. “Money was the main reason, though I have to admit, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I signed on.”
Rachel straightens her blouse, which has fallen low around her shoulders. “And what exactly is that?” she asks in her low, raspy voice.
I am about to start ticking off all of the weird jobs Calloway has assigned me when Natalie throws her arm around my shoulders. “Well, for example, Kate hadn’t expected to develop a thing…for Sully’s replacement.” She announces this as if she still thinks I’ve lost