Thirty-One
“Hey, Cedrick. Sorry, can’t chat. Got to get back to work.”
Max gave Cedrick an obligatory wave and brushed past, but not before catching the demented joy fading from the man’s eyes.
Unwilling to pretend Cedrick was anyone he wanted to talk to, Max gave the equivalent of an internal shrug and headed for the cleaner’s alcove.
Perhaps the biggest benefit of being booted from his former social circle was that he no longer had to pretend to like certain people. The farce was over. He had no money. Therefore, no value. Now he and his old “friends” could move on.
He grabbed the large broom from the farthest corner of the cleaner’s alcove and went back out to the dance floor, detouring away from Cedrick.
Loud applause rolled across the room as he went about sweeping sequins, glad
