Текст книги "Gemini"
Автор книги: Penelope Ward
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
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My mother Margo Abraham adopted me as a baby, but died of cancer a little over a year ago. Mom never married, but didn’t want to miss out on having a child, so she visited an adoption agency when she was forty-two years old and after a three-year wait, was finally blessed with a newborn baby girl. She was my whole life and aside from her sister, my Aunt Reeni who lives in New York, I am virtually alone.
Thankfully, Mom had saved a lot of money over the years. She did well working for the city in the Mayor’s office so I have a little nest egg that I am reluctant to dive into and was even more reluctant to waste away on an expensive college so soon. I had a liberal arts degree from a small community college and wasted many years after high school and college working odd jobs, until I decided on special education as a career. But after Mom’s death, I decided until I could save enough money of my own and focus on my 48/727
studies, finishing grad school was not going to be happening in the near future.
“Are we going out tonight?” Sonia asked. She was antsy and went out practically every night, even if just out for coffee in the North End. I was a homebody and happy to stay home and watch movies most evenings.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, knowing full well, I would probably stay home anyway.
“I was thinking of calling Tom and seeing if he wanted to meet up with us somewhere, maybe get some cannolis at Mike’s Pastry. They are divine.” Sonia loved sweets and Tom was a guy she was crushing on lately. He lives in the neighborhood and they met while he was walking his dog and she was taking out the garbage. They exchanged numbers and met for coffee once so far.
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“You should go, but I think I’ll just stay in.” I said pulling off my beige Ugg boots.
“Suit yourself, babe. You are not gonna call Nate while I am gone, are you?” Sonia lifted her brow at me.
“Of course not.” The truth was, I wasn’t so sure about that. I had no intention of getting back with him, but I was curious as to how he was doing. He was pretty devastated when I moved out and called me every day for two weeks. I know what he did was unforgivable, but I also know that had he not been drunk, it wouldn’t have happened. Nate had never laid a hand on me sober. I just didn’t like the way I ended things, essentially abandoning him and I do struggle with that guilt.
“Alright, I am gonna shower,” Sonia said as she walked out.
I crashed on the oversized green sofa, closing my eyes, thinking about Blue Eyes 50/727
and the smell of his cologne. I wonder who he is, what his name is and what he is doing right now, as I drifted to sleep.
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CHAPTER 4
CEDRIC
The rest of the week after Monday’s diner incident went by in a flash.
After just returning from a quick business trip to the New York office, I met Karyn for dinner on Friday night. The Italian restaurant she chose was dark and noisy and I just wanted to get the hell out and go home.
“You seem distant tonight. Everything okay?” Karyn asked me, straightening her napkin as she perused the drink menu.
“It’s just been a busy week, babe.
Everything is fine.” The truth was the need to see Allison again was consuming me and only got worse as the days passed.
“What do you want to do this weekend?” Karyn said before she was interrupted 53/727
by the waitress who came to take our drink order.
“I’ll have a margarita. Cedric?”
“Um…Sam Adams on draft. Thanks.” I was hoping the beer would take the edge of this anxious feeling I have had all week but I probably
could
have
benefited
from
something a hell of a lot stronger.
“So, what do you want to do this weekend?” Karyn repeated.
“I was hoping you had that mapped out. I am not feeling very decisive tonight.” I said, throwing the menu down.
“Actually, I was hoping we could drive out to Brimfield for the antique fair. I hear great things. It’s only about an hour and a half away.” She beamed.
“Hmn. Ok, sounds good.” Really, I had no use for antiquing, but it might do some good to get out of the city, clear my head and decide what my next move was going to be as far as Allison was concerned.
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*** Saturday’s scenic drive out to Brimfield was pleasant enough. Brimfield is a rural town in the Western part of Massachusetts and it took about two hours to get there. It was a crisp fall day and perfect weather if you had to endure trolling around for other people’s mostly useless shit.
“Look at this pashmina!” Karyn squealed as she lifted up a hideous pink piece of fabric.
She took out her wad of cash and paid for the scarf that ‘she just had to have’ along with about twenty other items I lugged around in an uncomfortably feminine Vera Bradley tote while she ran ahead of me to the various vendors.
Oh, yeah, I felt real fucking manly today.
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At one point I lost her and found myself in a tent run by a woman who looked to be in her eighties selling silver and gold rings and necklaces.
The woman approached me. “Can I help you find something for that special lady?” she asked.
“Oh, no thank you. My girlfriend has a mind of her own,” I said rolling my eyes.
The lady ignored me, reaching for something in her stash. “How about this?
She lifted out of the clear glass case a silver butterfly on a rope chain that was actually pretty cool looking. The center of the butterfly was encrusted with what looked like diamonds.
“How much?” I decided to humor her, even if I had no intention of buying anything.
“You tell me,” she said.
The old lady had such a sweet look in her eyes and frankly no one else seemed to be coming by.
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“Is it silver?” I asked.
“Actually, this one is white gold. You can see the 14K stamp here.” She turned the charm around with trembling hands and looked up at me with bright blue eyes, smiling a toothless grin. This woman was probably beautiful sixty years ago and spoke with an Irish brogue.
“This belonged to my mother. All of this jewelry was hers. She was a collector. I held onto all of it for so long, but I have been having some health issues and really need to sell it off to pay my bills,” she said.
I lightly tapped her arm. “I am sorry to hear about that,” I said.
As the lady put the butterfly back in the case, my eyes caught sight of a ring with a unique colored green stone. The shade of green reminded me of a certain waitress’s eyes. It was a lighter green than an emerald, almost a forest green, with just a hint of gold.
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“What about that one?” I pointed to the ring. “Is this a real stone?” She handed it to me and I examined it closer to my eyes.
“I can’t be sure. This ring was given to my mother by my father when he was court-ing her. They were married for sixty years before my father passed away. It’s not an emerald, but it looks to be a real gemstone, maybe of the citrine family. This one is also white gold. See the marking inside?” I squinted to look inside the ring. “It’s beautiful. But I would have no idea what to offer you for it.”
The woman thought about it for second. “The filigree style of the setting is just not something you see anymore. You can’t buy stuff this well made these days.
How about one hundred? I am sure it’s worth more, but you seem like a good boy…are you Irish?” she asked.
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“Actually, I am half Irish on my father’s side. My mom is Italian.” I grinned.
“That explains the dark hair from your mother and blue eyes from your father, I take it. I’d venture to say that wicked grin is the Irish side as well. For a good Irish boy, I’ll give it to you for eighty. Just promise you won’t give it away to a lass unless you truly love her. That ring has special meaning and I believe it should be passed to a woman who is truly cherished like my father felt about my mother.”
“Ok, it’s a deal.” Smiling at the woman, I took my wallet out of my pocket hoping I had enough cash to cover the ring. I had two hundred and emptied my wallet, handing it all over to her.
She closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth. “No dear, I can’t accept this. Eighty will do,” she said I shoved the money into her hand.
“Please, take it. You can use it and you are 59/727
giving me a special part of your past. Let a lad help out a lass, ok?”
The woman gave me the biggest toothless grin I have ever had the odd pleasure of experiencing and stood up to hug me.
“Bless you. What is your name, lad?”
“Cedric…Cedric Callahan.”
She clapped her hands together. “Callahan! My mother was a Callahan! Mary was her name. Who knows, we could be linked.
Thank you so much, Mr. Callahan. I’m Maeve.”
“Anything is possible, Maeve,” I said, taking the ring, which I placed in my shirt pocket.
Just then, I spotted Karyn walking toward me with more junk and nodded my head to the woman who stood smiling as I walked away.
Karyn handed me another small bag, which I placed in the larger one I was carrying. “Did you buy something?” Karyn smiled.
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Looking back at Maeve, I lied, “No, no just chatting to that nice lady.” The old woman must have overheard me because when I looked over at her again, she winked. I think she probably sensed as I did, that Karyn wouldn’t be the person getting her mother’s ring. She was wise, that Maeve.
*** The ride back to Boston was not as relaxing as the ride to Brimfield, since Karyn and I got stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Massachusetts Turnpike.
After going on and on about the great finds that took up most of the back seat of my Audi RS5, she decided to listen to an au-dio book on her iPod while I took free reign of the radio.
As I flipped through the channels, I stopped at—of all songs– Mandy by Barry 61/727
Manilow. Definitely not one of my favorites, but it freaked me out because I remembered that it was playing when I walked into the diner that day. It reminded me of the moment I first laid eyes on Allison. It’s weird how I hadn’t heard that song in years and now I have heard it two times in a week.
Maybe it’s a sign that I should go back.
Mondays are the only days in my schedule where I have that kind of time in the middle of the day to make the forty-minute drive to the suburbs. Tomorrow is Monday and I am nowhere near ready to step foot back in there and face her yet. I would have to come up with an excuse to talk to her, but somehow explain the tip I left, if she remembers me and asks. Maybe she won’t bring it up but I have to be prepared.
No, I am not ready to face her. It won’t be tomorrow.
***
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Several weeks pass before I finally decide to drive up to the Stardust diner again.
I figured if I dressed casually, maybe she wouldn’t remember me as the tip guy.
So, I wore my favorite pair of Levis and a gray cotton shirt under a leather jacket, letting my chin hair grow out a little more for the past few days as well.
I needed to start fresh, grow some balls and somehow start a conversation without coming across as too forward. I don’t want to scare her off. Guys must try to pick her up all of the time and I don’t want her to think that is what I am trying to do because it’s not. I really just want to get to know her.
She has no idea how much. Aside from stalking her at her job, I just don’t know exactly how else to make that happen.
Lucky enough to find a space right in front of the diner, I put the car in park and took
the
deepest
breath
I
could,
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remembering the breathing technique I learned in the Bikram Yoga class Karyn dragged me to in Brookline last week.
Breathe.
Ok, F-this. What I really needed was a cigarette. I had been trying to quit, but if there were any moment to make an exception, this would be it. I reached into the glove compartment, grabbed my stash of Marlboro Lights, took one out, lit it and inhaled.
Breeaathe. That’s better, I thought as I exhaled. I am so going to Hell. After a few puffs, I tossed it and popped an Altoid, getting out of the car.
You dumb fuck, now you’re gonna smell like smoke.
Bells chimed when I opened the door to the diner. It was much noisier and more packed than the last time and there didn’t appear to be any available booths. The Long and Winding Road by the Beatles played on the stereo system and the only seats 64/727
available were right up on the counter. Damn it. I conceded that I had no choice and walked over to the counter seats.
An older woman with very bleached blonde hair and bright red lipstick handed me a menu and told me she would be right back. This was the same waitress who worked with Allison last time… Delores…according to her name tag.
But there was no sign of her as I looked around . The diner wasn’t a big place, so there wasn’t a lot of area to cover. The doors to the kitchen swung open and I could see one other waitress in there, shorter, red hair with...gigantic breasts. No Allison.
Delores came out of the kitchen and the other waitress followed. I could have sworn they were looking over at me in unison and whispering by the coffee station. The other waitress then came towards me with a bit of a maniacal smile.
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“Hi, my name is Sonia, I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you started with some coffee?” she asked in a strong British accent.
“Ugh, sure. That’ll be good. I’ll take a coffee and a salt bagel with butter, please.” I realized after the fact that I ordered the same thing I got last time, having not really looked at the menu. I had no appetite anyhow, once I determined that this had been a wasted trip.
“Sure, thing. I’ll be right back with your order.” She winked.
The waitress walked back over to the coffee station to pour my cup and I noticed her whispering to Delores again, but this time, Delores turned around and stared more blatantly in my direction. The other waitress… Sonia…she said her name was, jumped up a few times, laughed giddily, and then went into the kitchen.
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Delores came over with my coffee and smirked.
What’s up with that? Perhaps, she is expecting a big tip again.
When Sonia came out three minutes or so later, she set my bagel on the counter in front of me.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked with a grin.
What a fucking miserable experience.
“No, thanks…just the check.” I smiled but inside I felt like absolute shit. For all I knew, Allison didn’t even work here anymore.
I gulped the coffee down and ate half of the salt bagel by the time the waitress came back with the bill. I set my credit card down and she took it away.
When she came back, she was staring and hesitated for a minute before handing it back to me. I opened the leather binder, 67/727
added a tip and signed my name as fast as I could.
“Thanks, a lot,” I said as I got up from the stool.
The waitress smiled. “Thank you, Mr.
Callahan. Have a brilliant day.” I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair and headed for the door. The bell chimed again on my way out and I left the diner feeling empty.
As I ran to the car, I realized I should have had the balls to ask if Allison still worked there. But that would have been too random and didn’t feel right. What if I lost the only means I had to see her? I decided I would go back a few more times on different days before I jumped to any conclusions.
*** The ride back to Boston was slow and painful. It was cold out, but I opened the car 68/727
windows anyway and let the frigid air hit my face in an attempt to snap out of my depression.
I had to stop at the condo to change back into my work suit, seeing as though I wanted to dress down for the diner, so as not to tip Allison off.
I pulled my jeans off, replacing them with my black Armani pants. Just as I was taking off my shirt, the phone rang. I usually let my answering machine pick up calls to my landline phone, since all of my important contacts have my cell phone number, so its usually just telemarketers calling me at home.
As I slipped my purple pinstriped dress shirt on and fastened the ‘trendy’ sus-penders Karyn bought me, I heard a female voice on the machine.
Hi, Mr. Callahan. I got your numberfrom the Boston white pages. I am hoping 69/727
it’s the right Cedric Callahan, but there was only one. I am calling from the Stardust diner. You were in here about an hour ago. I am so sorry but you must have been in a rush and you left your credit card in the bill folder. Your waitress tried to catch you, but you had already left the area. Anyway, if this is your number, we are open until elev-en tonight, so feel free to come by anytime; we’ll hold here for you. My name is Allison; I’ll be working tonight, so you can ask for me.
CHAPTER 5
ALLISON
It was rare to be home during the afternoon. Sonia and I had switched shifts today, so that she could go out with Tom tonight. I offered to take her evening shift instead. Sonia was part-time at the diner and only worked a few nights a week. When the phone rang, I had just stepped out of a relaxing bath, wrapped in a towel and decided to let the answering machine pick up.
A loud British voice startled me.
“Al…Al…pick
up…you’re
never
gonna
believe—”
I picked up the phone once I realized Sonia sounded frantic.
“Sonia? What’s up…aren’t you at work?”
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“Oh my God—yes. Your guy…he was here.
Al….Blue
Eyes…Blue
Eyes
was
here…except he has a name. It’s Cedric.
Cedric Callahan!”
“Wha…what? How do you know it was HIM?” I shouted into the phone.
“Delores recognized him immediately.
She pulled me aside and Oh my God, he was actually how you described him: piercing blue eyes…hair you want to run your fingers through…sexy as all hell. He was dressed down, too, Al…he looked so friggin’ hot. And get this: he ordered the salt bagel and coffee again so there was absolutely no doubt that it was him.”
“Wait…how did you get his name?” I was shaking. Words cannot describe how devastated I was that I was not working today. So. Utterly. Pissed.
“Ok, here’s the best part. Are you ready for this? He paid with a credit card.
That’s how I got his name. But when he went 72/727
to sign it, he rushed off so fast…he friggin’
left it here! I am standing here holding Cedric
Callahan’s
credit
card!”
Sonia
screamed into the phone. She better be out of Max’s earshot.
Cedric Callahan. Oh my. The name certainly suited him.
“Are you going to try and look his number up, call him…so we can let him know we have his card?” I asked.
“Well, I figured since you’d be in here in an hour, I’d wait…to give you time to get here, unless of course, he figures it out first.
Allison, you better get your ass up here in case he comes back.”
I didn’t know how I felt about this. I had been waiting hopelessly for this guy to come back to the diner for weeks. I was fairly certain that he was a one-time thing and that I would never see him again…ever. Now, he would definitely be coming back.
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“Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone without waiting to hear her response. I needed to get out of my house as fast as possible AND make myself look decent. I grabbed the blow dryer and shook it through my hair faster than ever before. I stopped to put on under eye concealer, eyeliner and mascara, which I never bother to do when I am working at the diner, but I had to look my best in case he came in tonight. I hated having to put on this ugly uniform, but threw on a short fitted navy cardigan to cover the top. I dabbed on a few spots of mauve colored lipstick, threw on my corduroy beige pea coat and slammed the door behind me.
It was a cold fall day outside and the chill of the air hit my still damp head hard. I grabbed my knit hat out of my tote. Waiting for the commuter rail train seemed to take forever as my heart pounded out of my chest in anticipation.
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*** Seven stops later, I exited the train and walked (well, jogged) the two blocks to the Stardust. My heart was pounding as I entered the chaos of the diner lunch crowd.
“Al!” Sonia rushed over to me. “He hasn’t come back yet. I just searched the white pages on my phone and found this list-ing in Boston. It’s the only Cedric Callahan in Massachusetts. It’s gotta be him.”
“Did you call?” I asked.
Sonia grinned. “No, you silly bitch…I am going to let you do the honors.”
“Me? I don’t want to call him! You do it…please?” I begged. I was so nervous. I couldn’t imagine what I would do or say if he picked up.
“Nope…no way. Come on…this is your chance to talk to him and then when he comes in, it’ll make it easier to strike up a 75/727
conversation because you will have already spoken.”
“Sonia, we don’t know anything about this guy. You are assuming he is not married and that he is heterosexual. I am not getting my hopes up and I really don’t want to call him, nor do I expect that he would be thinking about anything more than getting his credit card back.” That was a lie. My hopes were totally up. I didn’t see a wedding ring that first time, so I was pretty sure married was out. Gay, though, that was certainly a possibility.
“He is not bloody gay.” Sonia laughed.
“You said he was staring at you. Any normal hetero single guy would be checking you out.
Come on, make the call…now! Just do it and get it over with.”
She handed me the cordless diner phone and I reluctantly grabbed the slip of paper from her hand that had his name and number written in pen. Without thinking it 76/727
over, I grabbed the phone and dialed the number…6-1-7…5-8-9…9-6-5-8.
Riiing...Riiing...(My heart is thumping hard.) Riiing…Riiing…Riiing… Hello you have reached the voicemail of Cedric Callahan. Please leave your name, number and the time you called and I will get back to you as soon as I can. BEEP. (Heart Thumping)
I don’t remember exactly what I said, because I was so nervous. But I don’t think I sounded like an idiot. The gist was that he left his card, that he could come get it until closing and that he should ask for me. Done.
That was over with. Phew. Ok. Now, the wait begins. How am I going to get through this shift?
Sonia was smiling at me. “See…that wasn’t so bad! Good luck, bitch…I am heading out. Sonia kissed me on the cheek, grabbed her purse and headed toward the door. I knew she was eager go shopping for a 77/727
new outfit for her date with Tom tonight, before heading to the apartment to get ready.
“I can’t believe you are leaving me.
Have fun,” I said smiling.
“You too…call me if you snog him later…cheerio!” Sonia winked and left.
*** The slower late afternoon turned into an unusually busy evening at the diner. All of the booths and tables were full and the orders were non-stop during the dinner hours.
I was so busy; I shouldn’t have had time to notice who wasn’t here. But of course it was all I could think about. Every time I would hear the bells chime at the door, my heart would stop for a second.
Maybe it wasn’t the right phone number.
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Maybe he had no idea he left his card here and would not be coming in tonight after all.
At about 7:30, I took my dinner break.
That was the good thing about working at a diner: I could have my choice of anything I wanted for dinner. (That might be a bad thing depending on how you look at it.) I usually try for a salad with grilled chicken, but tonight…tonight I was going to eat my nerves away. I opted for a Reuben sandwich smothered in Thousand Island dressing, ba-nana milkshake and chocolate cream pie for dessert. I was going to throw down.
I sat down next to one of the regulars, Mr. Short, who was ironically, ridiculously tall, at about six foot seven. The other patrons call him Big Bird behind his back. Mr.
Short is such a nice guy though and would probably find that funny.
“Hi, Mr. Short…mind if I join you?” I sighed and sat down before he could 79/727
respond, because we sit together like this many times when he’d come in for lunch during my normal shift.
Mr. Short is a Vietnam veteran and widower. Since his kids all live in different states, the diner is like home to him and he has breakfast, lunch and dinner here. I enjoy keeping him company when I’m on duty.
“How ya doing tonight, Allison? It’s nice to see you here during the dinner hour.” Mr. Short looked at my tray full of food and lifted his brow.
“I know…a different variety for me, right?” I laughed.
“Yes…I should say!” he laughed.
“I am a little preoccupied with something tonight, so I am thinking food might help me calm my nerves.” I took a huge bite out of the sandwich and again, glanced at the door. This would not be the right time for Blue Eyes to walk in.
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“Anything I can help you with?” he asked.
“No, no…I am fine, really,” I said taking a big gulp of my shake.
He opened the newspaper. “Ready for your horoscope?”
Mr. Short and I often checked our horoscopes during lunches together and he would always read mine to me.
“Yup…shoot,” I said.
Mr. Short read for me and I listened intently as I took another huge bite out of my sandwich.
“You may receive word from a friend today with a career tip or inspiration for a new hobby. Whatever the case, Gemini, a friend will play a significant role in your life bringing forth business opportunities.”
“Interesting. I’ll keep it in mind,” I said.
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Mr. Short gestured silently that I had dressing on the side of my mouth and I wiped myself with a napkin.
“Are you sure you are okay, Allison?”
“Yup,” I said with my mouth full of food, as I wiped it again.
I could never admit to what I was really obsessing over tonight. It would sound so stupid to him, really, admitting that I was nervously waiting for a man who would probably never show.
I changed the subject and started asking him questions about Vietnam, his favorite topic, which inevitably led to as long of a story I was willing to sit for.
*** The crowd in the diner died down after about ten. At that time of night, it was more about cleaning up and restocking for the next morning. There were a few 82/727
stragglers sipping on coffee and eating pie, but for the most part, the real work was done for the night.
I finished wiping down the last of the empty tables and grabbed the broom from a side closet to sweep the floor behind the counter as Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” played. I was crazy all right. I thought about how stupid I felt looking at the door every thirty seconds tonight, when, even if he had come in, he would have taken his card and gone away just as fast back to his cosmopolitan life. It might not have mattered even if he came in. Why was I obsessing over this guy anyway? Was there something truly missing in my life that I had to create this imaginary drama? Is the significance of him all in my head?
I thought about the past year as I swept the floor: how much I missed my mother and how badly the relationship with Nate ended. I hadn’t focused on anything 83/727
other than my problems until the distraction of Blue Eyes… Cedric. If I can take away anything from this situation, at least I know I have the capacity to be interested in something again.
*** It was 10:55 and time to start shutting down for the night. Max and whichever waitress worked the late shift would always walk out together before he locked up.
I turned off the neon “Open” sign in the window and grabbed my coat. I waited by the door for Max to come out of the kitchen, looking out at the streetlights. He wasn’t quite ready to leave yet and I could hear some last minute washing and clanking of pots and pans. Besides that, the music was off and the diner was eerily silent overall.
I couldn’t wait to get out of here, back to my apartment and into a hot bath.
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Pathetic. What a waste of energy today was, I thought, as the draft from standing near the door made me shiver.
The last train leaves at 11:20, so I wished Max would hurry up. I closed my eyes imagining how good the hot water bath would feel.
I opened my eyes just as a silver Audi pulled up out front.
CHAPTER 6
CEDRIC
I have been sitting at this business dinner for over two hours and I couldn’t tell you one thing that was said. I have been aimlessly nodding and nursing this scotch because I don’t want to get hammered tonight if I have any chance in hell of making it to the diner before they close. I would much rather be on the highway headed north right now, but couldn’t get out of here to save my life.
Earlier this afternoon, after I got the voicemail from Allison that I had left my credit card at the Stardust ( idiot move by the way), I rushed back to the office elated and nervous, but determined to make it back to the diner after work.
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In the midst of this development, I realized I had forgotten about a major client meeting followed by dinner scheduled at night. Westock was trying to woo Boston’s top sports anchor from a rival agency and he and his wife had scheduled a meeting with my colleagues and me. It wasn’t until I walked in and saw Julie waiting in my office panicking that I remembered.
Sports anchor Scott Ellis was already waiting in conference room B and he didn’t look too happy. Thankfully, I was skilled in the art of schmoozing and ass kissing and by the end of the meeting, I had him wrapped around my finger. I offered to take a lower percentage commission than he was paying his current agent and guaranteed that I could get him a higher salary. I had already had a meeting setup with TV station management who owed me a favor anyway, after I stopped another client of mine from suing them for breach of contract. I knew the higher salary 87/727
was a given and I knew Ellis would be my client before the week was over.
*** No longer needing to kiss-ass, Ellis, his wife Maureen, a few of the other agents and I decided to celebrate our new relationship at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse in the city.
It was 9:30 and I knew I needed to wrap this up soon if I wanted to get to the diner and allow time to go home and change out of my work clothes first.
Just when I was about to make up an excuse and leave…Karyn showed up. Apparently, she had called my assistant Julie’s cell phone to find out where we were and decided to join us. Karyn worked with Scott at the same station and must have thought her presence would help; little did she know how much worse she made this night for me by showing up when she did.
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“Hey, babe. Hi, Scott…Maureen…” Karyn said as she walked in like she owned the place, asking the waiter for an extra chair and squeezing in beside me.
