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about ready to—” Nick stares at me. “Go?”
    I’m not sure if his mid-sentence delay is a good thing or not.
    “Do I look okay?” I ask. “Is it too much?”
    “No,” he says. “Diego will like it.”
    What does that mean? Diego will like it, but I don’t? Why are the good ones always so ambivalent and vague? Just tell me I look hot!
    Nick speaks into his mic. “Can you hear me?”  
    His voice crackles in my ear. “Loud and clear.”
    The last squirts of highly flammable hairspray keep my curls in check. I hope it’s a nonsmoking event. Otherwise, I may go up in flames.
    I leave with Nick so José can start to get ready.  
    Nick drops me off at a back entrance to the hotel.  
    “Look for Regina,” he says. “She’ll get you set up. Tell her you’re a friend of David’s. That’s who I told her I was.”
    “Does she know why we’re here?”
    “No. She’s being paid well to allow you to work for a night. People who are paid well don’t ask questions. That’s why they’re paid well. She shouldn’t be hard to find.”
    I start to get out of the car. “Wish me luck.”
    “You’ll do great.”
    I close the door and start heading down the walkway. In the heels, the cobblestone path is a meandering deathtrap.
    “You do look beautiful in that dress,” I hear Nick say in the earpiece.
    I smile. “Thanks. I guess this means I have to listen to you all night long.”
    “I’m stuck in your head whether you like it or not.”
    Nick’s right in more ways than one.  
    As the car pulls away, I wave.
    I approach the metal door and knock. A young girl, who barely looks old enough to be a teenager, opens the door. She struggles to put on an earring. “Necesita ayuda?”
    Nick tells me, “She’s asking if she can help you.”
    “Si,” I say. “English?”
    The girl nods. “Are you waitressing or attending the event?”
    “Waitressing.”
    She looks me up and down. “Could have fooled me. Come in. We’re getting ready now.”
    I gesture to the jewelry in her hand. “May I?”
    She hesitates a moment before forking the jade earring over. I try sliding the jewelry through the hole in her ear, but it won’t go. She bites her nail.  
    “I hope they didn’t close up,” she says.
    I turn her around. “How old are you?”
    She thinks. “Fifteen.”
    She’s probably thirteen.
    “I think you’re going to have to go without earrings tonight and get them pierced again. Sorry.” The girl is on the verge of tears. I want to help, but I’m not here to be anyone’s mother. “Do you know where I can find Regina?”
    The girl points down the hall to a closed door with a small metal plaque in the center: Gerete General.
    “Thanks,” I say. “And don’t worry about the earrings. You look beautiful. Very sophisticated.”
    I make an O with my thumb and middle finger. The young girl smiles and drops the earrings into her purse.  
    Approaching the door, I knock and wait.
    “Entre!”
    I twist open the door. A heavyset woman sits behind a cluttered desk. “Hi, are you, Regina?”
    “That’s me. You must be Caroline. David got you this job, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “Have you ever waitressed before?”
    “Um, no.”
    “It’s pretty simple. You’ll be carry champagne through the courtyard and serving it to guests. You don’t have to talk to them, sell them on anything, or take payment. All you have to do is keep the glasses from spilling. When you run out, return to the kitchen to get more.”
    “Sounds simple.”
    “It is. I’ll get you a tray and plastic flutes to practice with. The event starts in about twenty minutes, so you’ll have to learn as you go.”
    Regina shows me the proper technique for carry the tray. After a couple of spills, I think I have the hang of it.  
    The fundraiser is held in the courtyard. I meander among the crowd. A Spaniard sings from a stage flooded with pink light. A trio of trumpet players carries the melody. Guitarists take turns performing solos.