Her face paled to a shade matching her white blouse. “Oh my God. Was he naked? Did you sketch him? I bet Kelton will be here tonight.”
The lipstick fell from my hand, clanging to the floor. I’d been so wrapped up with Dillon and figuring out the train system in Boston to get here that I didn’t think of Kelton attending an art gala. After all, he wasn’t a student. Thoughts of fleeing danced in my head. But I wasn’t one to let someone down, especially if I gave my word. So, I collected my lipstick, dropped it into my purse, then moved to the cabinet and plucked out an apron.
“You know him?” I hadn’t shared much of my childhood with her, and when she moved back to Boston to help her mom with the catering business, we’d only spoken a handful of times.
“What girl at BU doesn’t? He’s a god. Every girl wants a piece of him. Every girl wants to marry him.”
After seeing Kelton in nothing but a cowboy hat covering his manly parts, I wanted a piece of him, too. But I wasn’t in the class to swoon over Kelton. I was there on the off chance that I would find Zach. Peyton thought I was in Boston for family reasons, and while I sort of was, I couldn’t tell her the truth yet. I didn’t know what I was up against, and I didn’t want to involve her if things got ugly.
She walked over to the sink. “You’re one lucky bitch. That’s all I got to say. I wished I had the option this semester for an elective.”
I wouldn’t call myself lucky. In my mind, running into Kelton was a distraction. He was all I kept thinking about since art class, when I should’ve been thinking about my next move to find Terrance or Zach Malden.
She washed her hands. “What position did Brew have Kelton in? And you never answered if he was naked.” She rubbed her hands together slowly.
Yep, my work was cut out for me. If she continued talking about Kelton, I was burnt toast. I tied the apron around me and joined her at the sink.
“Tell me before I wet my panties.”
Mine were already moist. I busted out laughing. “I’m definitely not telling you. You’ll have your soapy hands down your pants.”
She moaned. “Damn straight I will.”
A phone rang to the tune of “Better as a Memory” by Kenny Chesney.
Peyton swiped a paper towel from the dispenser. “That’s your ringtone? Can you get any sadder?”
I snagged the towel from Peyton, quickly wiped my hands, and retrieved my phone from my back pocket. “Hello?”
“Emma, it’s Dillon. I have to be in Cambridge tonight. Meet me at a club called Rumors at 11:00 p.m. And if you want to do business, lose the wig. I want to see the real you.” Then the phone went dead.
No way was he seeing the real me—not in public anyway.
“Who was that?” Peyton asked. “Are you making friends already? His voice sounds yummy.”
Dillon did have a soothing voice for a scary-looking guy. “You heard that?” I had barely heard him.
“Only when he said your name. So, spill. Who is he?” She anchored her body against the counter.
I tensed.
“Okay, we need to get moving,” said a short, middle-aged lady with a bob as she glided in, carrying shopping bags. “You must be Emma. My daughter hasn’t stopped talking about you.” She set down the bags on the counter. “Thank you for helping out. I understand you’ve served before?”
I thought Peyton would have at least told her mom my real name. But I wasn’t complaining. The less people knew of the real me, the better the chances of me staying incognito. “Yes, ma’am. Applebee’s and The Olive Garden.”
“Good. Good. Oh, and call me Wendy.” She went over to the fridge and pulled out trays of shrimp cocktail and empty lettuce cups. “Let’s get started. The quiches and chicken are in the oven. Let’s start with the champagne and wine.”
Peyton and I moved to the bar adjacent to the door that spilled into the gallery. The bottles of bubbly and red and white wine had already been opened. So we poured and prepped four silver trays of alcohol. Then we collected a wad of napkins before inserting half of them in our apron pockets and placing the other half on the trays.
“We should have a packed house. Let’s start with alcohol,” Wendy said. “And be sure to smile. I’ll have the hors d’oeuvres ready shortly.”