I was reaching behind me to untie the apron when a car turned into the parking lot, Julia behind the wheel. She caught sight of me and gave me a quick wave before pulling into one of the closest spots.
Margot shot me an apologetic look before slinking off to throw the hose in the back of her car. “Good luck,” she called as she climbed into her car, leaving me behind to greet the birthday girl and her mom wearing a sex apron.
Not that it was obvious it was a sex apron, I reassured myself. I certainly hadn’t realized that when I put it on. It just looked like a super fancy apron. No one would know if I just played it cool.
As Julia opened the car door for her daughter, I tried to picture myself looking into a mirror.
Be cool. It’s just an apron, Glory. There’s nothing sexy about it.
Everything was going to fine.
And then Julia turned to walk into the building, and she seemed to get her first good look at me. Her eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting up as she stared at me, and I had a very good feeling that she was familiar with a certain sexy French maid costume.
It was a kids’ birthday party. What could go wrong?
Thanks, Roger.
Chapter Nineteen
Julia might have known that I was wearing a naughty maid’s apron, but there was no way she could say anything about it without revealing she knew exactly what it was.
For a moment, we both stood there frozen, both knowing what was going on but neither able to admit it. It was Andi who broke the silence.
“I like your apron, Miss Glory.”
“Thank you,” I said in a strained voice. “Happy birthday! Why don’t you come in and let me know what you think of your cake.”
Luckily, Andi was thrilled with her cake, and with the decorations, and with the pink lemonade, which she promptly had two cups of. And once her friends started to show up, she was thrilled with them, and with the gorgeously wrapped presents they brought with them.
The plan was to start the party in the cat area and do cake toward the end. Once everyone had arrived, I ushered the kids through the doors that led into the cat area. I’d expected a lot of squealing and excitement, and there was some, but mostly the kids were relatively calm and very gentle with the cats.
So far, so good. Aside from the side-eye Julia kept giving my apron.
Twenty minutes into the party—on the dot—Quill threw open the door to the stairwell up to my apartment and strode into the room, her small nose in the air. “Greetings, my royal subjects,” she said.
“Princess Palollipop!” several girls cried.
Julia caught my eye over Andi’s head and gave me a quick nod, like maybe she hadn’t quite forgotten about the whole sex-apron thing but I was winning her over by producing a decent Palollipop.
“Welcome, Princess Palollipop,” I said, walking over to Quill. “We’re so glad you could join us for Andi’s birthday party.”
The girls clustered around Quill, who flicked the long blond braid of her wig over her shoulder. “You,” she said, zeroing in on one little girl who was busy swiping her finger noisily under her nose. “The drippy one. Please keep your distance. If you leak on me, I shall have you executed.”
The girls giggled, while I leaned closer. “You can’t threaten to execute anyone,” I whispered. “That’s not really on-brand for Palollipop.”
