Read Online Heat Wave by Kate J. Squires - Free Book Online

after Greg.
    â€˜Greg! Hey, man. I need to ask you a question about tonight.’ A Chinese man with striking features waved my roommate over.
    Greg turned to me. ‘I’ll be back in a sec, okay?’
    â€˜I don’t need a babysitter,’ I said pleasantly. ‘As long as they’ve got hot chips, I’ll be fine.’
    Making my way over to the buffet, I took a moment to enjoy one of the bonuses of being on board. Although the staff dining room wasn’t pretty, with its plastic chairs and paper plates, the food was obviously the same as what the cast were being served upstairs. Seafood and steak lay steaming under heat lamps, while a dozen different gourmet salads glistened wetly in massive bowls.
    I grabbed a plate and loaded up with a seeded dinner roll, a scoop of nicoise salad and some sweet potato fries. With my hands full of cutlery, I couldn’t help myself from balancing a little bowl of chocolate mousse on top. Looking around the room for somewhere to sit, I noticed the makeup artist whose trolley I’d decimated earlier that day.
    I need to apologise anyway … I headed over to where she sat with a few other beautifully manicured creatures, obviously the beauty department clique.
    â€˜Hi,’ I said. ‘I’m Maddie. I’m so sorry about your trolley earlier. I just want you to know, I’ll replace anything that got ruined or lost as soon as we get paid.’ I smiled and waited for an invite to sit.
    It never came. The darkly-tanned girl stood, glaring up at me. I had the height advantage, but she outweighed me in pure ire. ‘Okay, Maddie . Let me tell you about the makeup brush that rolled overboard today. My grandmother gave it to me. It was over fifty years old, and the handle was carved from ivory. Now, you tell me how you’re gonna replace that.’
    â€˜Now, how you plan on replacing that?’ piped up one of her cronies.
    I smiled again, faltering this time. ‘I … I’m sorry, Natalie. I don’t know what to say …’
    She poked me square in the chest and I flinched. ‘So, how about you take your long-arse giraffe-legs and trot away somewhere else, huh? I’m a Christian woman, so I’ll let this one slide, but I swear to the good Lord, cross me again, and I’ll make your time here so bad you’ll wish for an iceberg.’
    â€˜Great. I’ll go then.’ At that moment, the man at the table behind me stood, bumping into me. With my feet already pivoting to go, I was off balance and the nudge in my back caused me to pitch forward.
    I held the tray tight, tilting it to keep the plate level, but I couldn’t stop the little pot of mousse from sailing off the top and landing square on Natalie’s chest. The brown goop slopped out all over her fitted shirt, then plopped to the ground, splattering her sequined high heels.
    It was like a moment from a sitcom, where everyone stops, and the TV audience says, ‘ Ooooo …’ For about three seconds, nobody moved, then Natalie’s finely-plucked eyebrow twitched. ‘Bitch … why?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ I whimpered. ‘Because, I’m accident-prone. I’m sorry.’
    Another girl from the table jumped up with a fistful of napkins. ‘Natalie, let me help you.’
    â€˜No.’ She snatched the napkins and held them out to me. ‘This bitch is gonna clean up every drop from my shoes.’
    â€˜Sure, no worries. If you just take them off, I’ll—’
    â€˜The hell with that.’ Natalie gave me a sinister smile. ‘Clean them while I wear them. On your knees.’
    â€˜You’re joking, right?’ I looked around, waiting for someone to laugh and say it was all a joke. When no one did, I said, ‘I’m not cleaning your shoes on my knees. I’m not a slave, and you’re not a queen. I’m sorry they’re dirty, and if you take them off I’ll do my