“Ready for that drink?”
Rob looked out of his serving hatch to see Chez standing there, apron off, a denim jacket covering his T-shirt.
“I am.” Rob climbed out of the van, grabbing his jacket on the way, a light linen blazer. They might be a bit casual for the hotel’s usual dress code, but there would still be a lot of wedding guests around and more arriving for the evening party. Nobody would notice the two of them in the crowd.
They’d moved their vans off the field to the hotel’s car park, so they were close to a door and were soon in the bar. It was filled with dark red leather Chesterfields and wedding guests—mostly men—transitioning from afternoon reception to rowdier evening party. Rob and Chez took a corner seat away from most of the men and with a good view of the TV, which had
