"That stage is a work of serious genius," Reece said, holding up a beer in toast.
"Hear, hear!" Brent added, clinking glasses with Tyree, who was starting his second bottle.
"Are we allowed to do this?" Cameron asked. "I mean, it's after two." He shot a glance toward Tyree. "And you once told me you'd fire my ass if I sold a drop of liquor after closing."
As soon as he finished speaking, he winced, then tilted his head toward Casper, the cameraman, as if Cameron had made a major faux pas on tape.
Casper, however, appeared completely uninterested. That wasn't his name, of course. But on the second day of filming, Mina had announced that since they wer
en't supposed to know either cameraman's real name--and since the men were supposed to be invisible to all of them--they'd name them appropriately. Thus, the shorter cameraman was Casper and his taller counterpart was Nick.
"Nick?" Cam had asked, and Mina had rolled her eyes. "As in Nearly Headless? A ghost, right? Like invisible. Fades away."
Cam, Brooke noticed, was still eyeing the beer suspiciously. Tyree, however, was unconcerned. On the contrary, a wide, delighted grin split his face. "And that's why my boy here is going to be getting that weekend assistant manager gig," Tyree said, directing the comment to Spencer and Brooke.
Then he waved his hand, indicating the spread of beer and liquor covering the desk in his office. "But this, my law-abiding young friend, is my own private stash. No sale, no problem. But don't drive home."
Cameron laughed, obviously relieved. "Fair enough."
Mina, who was sitting on the desk, pushed out her foot and bumped Cam's chair. "You are way too law-abiding."
"Just being careful," Cam protested, but he looked down immediately, and not for the first time Brooke wondered if he'd ever get up the nerve to tell Mina how he felt. Maybe if he downed a couple more beers...
It was after hours on Sunday, and the impromptu party was in celebration of the completion of the sectional stage. "I am completely willing to take a bow," Spencer said. "And I can do it with complete and total humbleness since it wasn't my brilliance that designed the thing. That would be the lovely Brooke Hamlin."
"Thank you, thank you," she said, taking a bow as they all applauded. "I honestly can't believe the contest is only a few days away."
Tyree nodded. "It's amazing how much you two have gotten done."
"Not just us," Brooke said. "You guys and your staff all helped." In the interest of the show, they'd decided to forego hiring laborers when they needed an extra pair of hands. Instead, when Brooke or Spencer needed help, management or one of the waiters or kitchen staff kicked in. And so far, they hadn't needed to pull in outside contractors like plumbers or electricians.
"We did," Brent agreed. "But you two still make a great team."
"Yeah," Spence said, hooking his arm around Brooke and pulling her in for a quick kiss, "we do."
"I think you have a pretty good shot on Wednesday," Jenna said to Spencer. She was drinking club soda with lime, and took a long sip before continuing. "I saw more than a few of our lunchtime regulars watching you work the last few days."
"Can't blame them. He looks hot in a T-shirt," Brooke said. They'd decided to work through the lunch hour in order to keep the show interesting by having customers in the place. "Especially with the sleeves rolled up to show off his ink."
"Which is excellent, by the way," Reece said, raising his glass in another toast. Considering the beauty and intricacy of his own tats, Brooke figured that was high praise.
"Right back at you," Spence said.
"I figure you'll score some points with the tats," Mina said.
"Wait." Brent frowned. "Wednesday? Points?"
"That's right," Jenna said. "You missed that conversation. Spencer's competing for Mr. February."
Brent laughed out loud. "Oh, man. Better you than me, buddy."
"Please. You are so getting on that stage one of these days," Jenna countered.
"Hell, yes, he is," Reece agreed.
Brent, however, merely pointed a finger at both of them and shook his head before turning to Spencer. "Good luck with that."
"Hey," Spence said. "I'm gonna own that shit." He flexed his muscles, and they all cracked up.