This is the fourteenth story.
This is the story of Harriet.
One of my odd jobs over the course of my time in Los Angeles has been as a caterer, working for a well-regarded company that would often work high-profile awards ceremonies and galas. There were many beautiful, high-class women at these events and I had a few flirty encounters in the course of the job, but none went anywhere special.
That is, until Harriet.
This particular gig was a gala for a big non-profit that, to my eyes, seemed like it had a lot of profit. They'd taken over the banquet hall of a fancy hotel, and everyone showed up dressed to the nines, in tuxedos and dinner dresses. I carried out hors d'oeuvres for cocktail hour, and that's when I first saw her.
In a room of spray tans and various nips and tucks, Harriet stood out immediately for her natural beauty. She was pale, with long curly hair, light red in color. Her eyes were green, her nose sharp, her mouth small. There was the sexiest splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Tonight she was wearing a dress that was robin's egg blue, a low neckline riding over b-cup breasts.
She was standing in a group of other women, all of them looking to be in their late twenties. Harriet looked up at me as I approached. I saw her eyes note the food first, then my face, where they lingered. I smiled, she smiled, her eyes danced away, then they came back.
"Ladies," I said.
They all looked around at me, saw the tray in my hand.
"Food!"
"Smoked trout croquettes," I said.
I held eye contact with Harriet as the tray was raided. The women started taking bites, and there was a chorus of "ooo"s and "mmm"s.
"Rave reviews," I said. "I'll tell the chef."
"Feel free to bring us more," Harriet said.
I winked at her. "I'll come to you ladies first."
They all giggled and laughed. I turned and walked to another group, feeling Harriet's eyes linger on me as I went.
I rotated back through the crowd a few minutes later with another tray of croquettes. I deliberately waited until I had only one piece remaining, and then I changed my route and passed right behind Harriet.
"Psst," I said.
She looked over her shoulder at me.
"Last one," I said, nodding down to my tray.
She lit up, a bright beautiful smile, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and took the last croquette.
"Thank you," she said.
"Any time."
The next time we interacted was during sit-down service. I went to pour champagne at each table, and found myself at hers. She was sitting between two much older women, which made me relatively confident she wasn't there with a date. I leaned over her to pour champagne in her glass.
"Hey," I said.
"You again," she said.
"Me again."
"Any more croquettes?"
"I put one in my pocket for you but it got a little squished."
"Oh darn."
I finished pouring her champagne, and leaned down close to her ear.
"Anything else you need, though," I said, "just let me know."
She looked up at me, her face serious. "I will."
The gala then continued, the meals punctuated with the usual array of self-important speeches. I did my job as normal, and late in the evening, I emerged from the kitchen to clear dishes and saw Harriet walking my direction.
"Hey!" she said.
"Can I get you anything?"
"Just heading to the restroom."
"Oh, let me show you."
I didn't care if she'd already been to the restroom that night. I touched her elbow gently and led her out into the hall. People streamed in both directions from the main restrooms, and a couple ladies were at the end of a line stretching out the women's.
I leaned into Harriet's ear.
"Follow me," I said softly. "Don't stop."
She looked at me with a mix of confusion and excitement, and I led her past the line, around a corner and down an empty hallway.
"Should I be worried?" she said.
We reached an unmarked doorway.
"Here," I said.
