Page 120 of Knot What I Expected

I smile. My customer-service smile.

The one that says I hope you enjoy your evening while my brain says I hope you choke on an olive.

“Here you go, ladies.”

I start unloading glasses.

The bride—Lindsey, according to the obnoxious sash stretched across her chest—picks up the bottle of sparkling wine I brought and stares at the label like I’ve personally insulted her ancestors.

Her nose wrinkles.

“What is this?”

“The sparkling wine you ordered.”

“This is not champagne.”

“No. Like I explained earlier, we don't carry champagne.”

She looks at me like I've just announced indoor plumbing hasn't reached Montana.

“Look, I don’t care how they do things in the trailer park, but we requested bottle service, and this cheap-ass wine cooler is not what we ordered!”

My fingers tighten around the tray.

One.

Two.

Three.

Breathe, Gabriella.

I need this job. More importantly, I need the extra hundred dollars.

“I’m sorry, miss, but this is the best sparkling wine we have. If you’d like, you can try another brand, but like I told you before, we’re more of a beer bar than a champagne-service establishment.”

Her mouth drops open.

“Oh my God, you skank! How dare you talk to me like that! Do you even know who I am?”

No.

And I cannot adequately express how much I do not fucking care.

Before I can answer, the blonde sitting beside her reaches over and rubs Lindsey’s arm.

“Lindsey, Lindsey, look at me. She’s nobody. Don't get upset.”

My smile freezes.

Nobody.

“After all,” Blondie continues, shooting me a smug little look, “you’re getting married to the best-looking guy around in just two days!”

The women squeal.

I close my eyes for half a second.