Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

D ean adjusted his bowtie for the third time that night, trying to settle into his role for the evening.

In the past week, it seemed as if Andrea was ignoring him. Then again, they had both been too busy at work to say anything more than hello in passing. At least they'd talked to one another on the phone late at night, when he'd gotten off work.

Thankfully, it was the weekend and they both had the next two days off. They had plans to head to the beach the following day for a picnic lunch and some downtime together. His hope was that they'd spend the next two days and nights with one another.

Since their official date had been cancelled due to Sophia's health scare, he was planning on making things up to Andrea.

That night's event, a swanky charity soiree, was in full swing. The grand hall of River Camps had been transformed into a sparkling wonderland of lights and decorations.

He moved through the crowd, a tray of champagne flutes balanced expertly in his hand, weaving his way around the well-dressed guests. It was obvious that they were all trying to vie for attention and status amongst the elite that filled the room. He'd never seen so many pretentious people at the camp before, and he knew they were all from the local area.

It wasn't long before he spotted Andrea. She was dressed elegantly in a long silver dress that hugged her body perfectly and showcased the bright tattoos that snaked around her arms. Her long blond hair was tied up in a sexy twist at the nape of her neck, and she wore a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

He admired her poise as she moved easily between the people, especially given the circumstances. He spotted both her mother, Alicia, and her sister, Amy, in the crowd.

He knew from past experience that Amy could be a handful, and tonight seemed no different.

As he made his way through the room, he overheard snippets of several conversations. He paused near a small cluster of people and heard Amy's unmistakable voice as she said clearly, "Andrea, since you work here, why don't you be a dear and run and grab us some more drinks?" Amy's tone had been sickly sweet but laced with a ton of condescension.

Dean watched as Andrea's smile tightened. "Of course," she replied, her voice steady.

He continued to observe as Andrea gracefully moved to the bar and retrieved a glass of wine for her sister. Meanwhile, Amy continued her conversation with her friends, Heather and Tiffany, who looked just as vapid and self-absorbed as he remembered they had been back in school.

"I can't believe that she still works here. How quaint. I mean, it's a weekend hobby at best," Tiffany said, her voice dripping with faux sympathy.

"I know, right?" Heather added. "I thought she'd have moved on to something more…fitting by now."

Dean's jaw tightened. He hated seeing Andrea treated this way, especially by people who should have been supporting her.

As he served another table's food, he couldn't help but overhear Amy's husband, Brad, speaking in a harsh tone to her after she complained that several prominent guests had cancelled that evening and that the charity would be short on funds because of their absence.

"Amy, just throw some money at it like you always do and stop bothering me about every little detail," Brad had snapped back, his eyes already roaming the room in search of something—or someone—more interesting.

Amy's face had fallen for a split second, but she quickly masked it with a forced smile. "Of course, darling. I'll handle it."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he watched Brad walk away and start to openly flirt with several of the staff members and guests, his hands lingering too long on their arms, his smiles too suggestive. It made Dean's skin crawl, and he silently vowed to keep an eye on the man.

That night's guests had Dean and the rest of the waitstaff running ragged. The charity event was supposed to be a night of elegance, but it had turned into a nightmare of endless demands and impossible-to-please patrons. It seemed every other dish was sent back to the kitchen for the most minor infractions, and even Isaac, the usually unflappable head chef, was losing his cool.

Dean could feel the tension radiating off the kitchen staff as another dish came back. "No onions," the server muttered, setting the plate down with a grimace. Isaac, who had been hovering near the pass, let out a string of curses under his breath, his face growing redder by the second.

"This is ridiculous," Isaac growled, slamming a ladle onto the counter. "You'd think they were paying for gold on their plates, the way they're acting!"

Dean nodded in agreement, wiping his brow. The dining room was packed with rich, entitled guests who seemed more interested in finding fault than enjoying their meal. He took a deep breath to steady himself before heading back out to the chaos.

As he stepped into the dining room, he was met with a flurry of complaints, each more trivial than the last. A woman in a sparkling gown beckoned him over, her nose wrinkled in distaste as she pointed at her plate. "This salmon is too dry. I asked for it to be perfectly cooked."

Dean forced a polite smile, apologizing as he took the plate back to the kitchen. Just as he turned, another guest snapped their fingers at him, demanding more wine, and another pointed out a smudge on their silverware.

It was a whirlwind of demands, but Dean kept his cool, responding to each with the same level of professionalism. But internally, he couldn't wait for the night to be over.

Later in the evening, as he was passing by Amy and her friends again, suddenly Amy's attention turned on him.

"Dean, isn't it?" Amy's voice was suddenly syrupy, her eyes glinting with a different kind of interest. "I must say, you clean up nicely. Then again, you were always one of the best-looking guys in our class."

Dean forced a polite smile. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Amy leaned in slightly, and her ample breasts pushed against his arm. Her perfume was overwhelming. "Just some company, perhaps. It must be lonely working these events all the time."

Dean straightened, keeping his tone professional. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm seeing someone."

Amy pouted and tried to redirect him. Only after he declined her advances a few times did she finally grow bored and give up, much to his relief.

He glanced over and saw Andrea watching the entire exchange, a mix of frustration and sadness in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that she deserved so much better than the way her sister and these people treated her. But then he was snapped at by another guest and had to run and get more butter.

The guests seemed to settle some after dinner, his anger simmered down. But he couldn't stand seeing Andrea running back and forth, fetching drinks and catering to her sister's whims. Finally, during a lull, he approached her.

"You okay?" he asked softly, handing her a glass of water.

Andrea took it gratefully, her fingers brushing his. "Yeah, just…tired. Thanks."

"Don't let them get to you," he said, his voice firm. "You're worth so much more than this."

Andrea smiled, a real smile this time. "Thanks."

She took a sip of the water and looked around the room, her gaze settling on Amy and her friends, who were now laughing loudly at something Brad had said.

Dean leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice. "You know, if you need to sneak away, we could always go for a walk on the beach."

Andrea's eyes softened. "That sounds nice. I might take you up on that after, when people start to leave. But for right now…" She motioned around. "I'm needed here."

"Gotcha," Dean replied, smiling.

Just then, Amy's shrill voice cut through the air. "Andrea! Where's my drink?"

Andrea's shoulders tensed but before she could move, Dean placed a hand on her arm. "I've got this," he said, turning to head to the bar.

Amy's eyes widened slightly as Dean approached with a fresh glass of wine. "Here you go, Mrs. Montgomery."

Amy took the glass, her gaze lingering on him. "Thank you, Dean," she said, her tone still laced with that faux sweetness.

Dean nodded and walked back to Andrea, who was watching him with a grateful expression. "You didn't have to do that," she said softly.

"I wanted to," he replied. "You shouldn't have to deal with her all night."

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background. Dean could see the exhaustion in Andrea's eyes, the weight of her family's expectations pressing down on her.

Then she turned and walked back to Amy, who had waved her over.

As the night wore on, Dean found himself more and more frustrated with the way Amy and her friends treated Andrea. Amy flirted shamelessly with him, trying to catch his eye whenever she could, and Brad continued to flirt with other staff members and guests, ignoring his wife completely.

At one point, Heather and Tiffany cornered Andrea near the bar.

"Andrea, darling," Tiffany drawled. "Why don't you just leave the serving to the staff and enjoy the party?"

"Yeah, you're practically a guest tonight," Heather added with a smirk.

Andrea forced a smile. "I'm just helping out where I can."

Dean saw the exchange and felt a surge of protectiveness. He walked over, slipping an arm around Andrea's waist. "Actually, Andrea is the most important guest here tonight," he said, his voice cool. "Without her, this event wouldn't even be happening."

Heather and Tiffany exchanged glances, their smirks faltering. "Oh, we didn't realize," Tiffany said, her tone suddenly much more respectful.

"That's right. She's the one that moved a very important event so that Amy could use the hall tonight. It's been booked solid for months. Andrea single-handedly made sure tonight's event could take place here." Dean motioned around the room to all the guest enjoying themselves. "So if you'll excuse us, we have some important things to discuss."

He guided Andrea away from the bar, feeling her relax slightly under his touch. "Thanks. It's a lie, but thanks," she murmured. "I didn't know how much more of that I could take."

"Just let me know if they start bothering you again."

The event finally began to wind down, and guests trickled out of the building. Amy and her husband sat at a table with Alicia and two other guests.

From where he was, it appeared as if Amy and Brad were arguing. When her mother said something to them, they stood up and left, followed shortly by the rest of the group.

The hall sat empty now, except for the employees, who would spend the next half hour cleaning the place and pulling down all the decorations.

He walked over to Andrea, who was leaning against the bar. "Hey, how about that walk?"

Andrea sighed. "Honestly, I'm too tired. How about you walk me to my car instead?"

He nodded and held out his arm for her. When she wrapped her hand in his, he smiled.

As they walked towards the parking lot, Dean caught sight of Amy and Brad arguing near their car. Brad's voice was raised, his tone harsh and dismissive. "I don't have time for your whining."

Amy's face was a mask of anger and hurt, but she quickly composed herself as she noticed Dean and Andrea approaching. "Dean, darling," she called out, her voice dripping with false charm. "You were wonderful tonight." Amy seemed to notice suddenly that Andrea's arm was in his. Her eyes turned from flirtatious to burning in seconds.

"Thank you," Dean replied curtly.

Andrea squeezed his hand, and they continued walking to his car. Once they were out of earshot, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "I don't know how you put up with them."

Andrea sighed. "It's not easy. But having you here tonight made it a lot more bearable."

Dean stopped by her car and turned to face her. "You deserve so much better than this. Better than the way they treat you. Better than all of this."

Andrea looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that made Dean's heart race. "Thank you. For everything."

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "My pleasure."

As they stood there under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, Dean realized something. He didn't just care about Andrea as a friend. His feelings for her were much deeper than that. And he was determined to show her just how much she meant to him.

"Tomorrow?" she asked with a sigh.

"If you're up for it," he said, holding his breath.

Her smile was quick. "Don't back out on me."

He shook his head and chuckled. "Not again."

"Good, be at my place at ten." She pointed at his chest, and they both glanced over to see Amy and Brad's car leave the parking lot.

Andrea's entire attitude changed in an instant. She was far more relaxed now than she'd been all night.

"Tomorrow." He leaned in and kissed her softly.

"Tomorrow." She climbed into her car.