“I do need those things,” Mom said. “I try to keep it reasonable but I…need to keep up appearances.”
Mom was still trying to attract a rich husband six years after her first marriage had ended. Mom worked part time at an art gallery, which didn’t pay well but had the right kind of image. She didn’t want to look like she needed to work, and she didn’t have much in the way of education or training to get a better paying job. She’d married when she was barely out of high school and had never had to get a job.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Amber sighed. “But Mom, I can’t do this forever.”
Silence. “I know, baby. I don’t expect it forever. Someday…”
The first time Amber had told her mom neither of them could rely on finding a rich husband to support them, her mother had burst into tears. So Amber didn’t say it now, even though she was thinking it. Yes, she knew her mom was weak and needy and fragile. She wasn’t going to change; Amber had given up on that.
“I know, Mom. I’ve got a photo shoot this week that’s good money and I’ll see if I can squeeze in an extra shift at the restaurant.”
“You should just quit school and model full time.”
She’d heard this before too. From the time a scout from Verena Models had spotted her on the street in Beverly Hills at age fourteen and approached her to give her his card, suggesting she get some head shots done and put together a portfolio, her mom had been obsessed with the idea of Amber being a model. She’d pushed her into modeling classes and made her sign with the agency.
At first Amber had gone along with it. It was flattering to be sought after. As an athletic tomboy, she hadn’t had much patience for the hair and makeup stuff, but looking in the mirror or at pictures of herself all done up, she’d been pleasantly surprised. She’d never had a lot of self-confidence, and the attention had helped her come out of her shell throughout high school, giving her a little prestige with her Bel Air classmates and with boys.
She’d eventually gotten tired of it all and begged her mom to let her quit. Mom had cried. Then poop had hit the oscillating rotor with Dad, and Amber’d had no choice but to keep working.
“It’s not what I want to do, Mom. You know that.”
“I know.” Her mother sighed.
Mom didn’t even ask how school was going. But Amber was used to that.
“I have to go,” Amber said. “I work at six. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay. Bye, sweetie.”
Amber ended the call and returned to the library. She rubbed her face with both hands, keeping her eyes covered for a moment. Yup, calls from her mom never ended in a feel-good way.
But onward and upward! She had a thesis project to finish and a job to get to, where she was going to smile and earn big tips.
She gathered her things, pushing her laptop into the bag, then her papers, and then picking up the empty cup of Cool Beans Coffee. She tossed it into a trash receptacle on her way out of the library.
At home she changed into the required black attire for her job at the Sin Bin. Maybe she should sex it up a bit. That might boost the tip factor. The other girls there went all out, so she added a little more eye shadow than usual and a slick of shiny gloss on her lips. From her closet, she selected a short black skirt, a low-cut beaded black tank top she’d actually bought at Target, and tonight went for heels. Just in case, she stuffed her black ballet flats into her backpack.
Things weren’t that busy at the Sin Bin early on a Monday night. The restaurant was nearly full but the bar was half empty. She greeted Jack, then headed over to look after a group of men who’d just taken a seat at a table. She laid down Sin Bin coasters shaped like hockey pucks and smiled at them all.
“Our happy hour special tonight is the Depressed Goalie.” She smiled.
“Stoyko should be depressed after that game last night,” one of the men said.
“You can’t blame him entirely,” another said. “He needs some defense in front of him.”
Eeep. Guess the Aces had lost last night.
“What’s in a Depressed Goalie, beautiful?” another man asked.
“Bourbon, Sprite, and Coke.”
“I’ll try it.”
“What’s on tap?”
Amber reeled off the numerous selections of draft beer available, smiled and nodded as the other two men ordered beer, then left to get their drinks.
As she passed by another table, she was flagged down so they could order another round. She took that order too, conscious of the men’s eyes on her, then went to put the order in with Jack.
“You look hot tonight.” Jack gave her an approving look as he pulled a beer.