Steel & Ice (8 page)

“
Don Julio for me. Larry,
you know I don’t fuck with the brown liquors.”

“
Whatever. Their beers, two
shots of jack, a shot of what she said, and an MGD,” Larry told the
bus boy. “When did Checks get table service?”

I shrugged. Jesse was staring at some girl
bent over a pool table making a shot. “So Larry? Barely skated
outta there, ay?”

“
This was the worst Black
Friday I have EVER seen!” Larry thundered, taking his hat off, and
running his hands though his sweaty hair. The three of us must be a
sight, or smell as it was, in our Applebee’s uniforms.

“
Larry, you say that every
year,” I scoffed. Our drinks came, and Larry pulled out his
wallet.

“
It’s taken care of,” the
bus boy told us.

“
By who?” I asked. The bar
was at capacity, and we had a bus boy bringing us free
drinks?

“
J,” the boy said, shrugging
as if it was nothing big. “He said you guys were taken care of for
the night and to get you whatever you want.”

“
Well fuck man, we’re gonna
step out. Bring another round when you see us come back in,” Larry
told the bus boy, handing him a $10 tip.

“
No problem. Thanks, but J
covered the tip too. I’m taken care of.”

Before Larry could say anything more, I
raised my shot glass and yelled, “To free drinks, mutha fuckas!!”
We slammed our shots back.

“
Hell yeah!” Larry
yelled.

We took our beers outside, and snuck into
the Monte Carlo with them. The parking lot was packed with folks I
assumed were drinking off their own Black Friday stress. We smoked
the nuggs Aaron had generously provided. I sprayed us down with
“girly spray” (Larry’s words) and we went back to the patio with
our beers to smoke a cigarette.

“
Elle won’t play me in pool.
You interested?” Jesse asked Larry as we walked back
inside.

“
Looks like our table’s
still open, and there’s a pool table open beside it. Have at it
boys,” I told them sitting down at the empty table, and making sure
my hat covered my eyes. Jesse racked the balls, and Larry came to
sit with me as the bus boy brought another round.

“
Toast?”

“
Sure, but keep this up and
both our cars are going to be here in the morning,” I told
Larry.

He gave me a devilish grin. “Jesse, get your
ass over here.”

“
Shots. Yesssss!” Jesse was
easy to please.

Larry made devil’s horns with his free hand
and yelled, “ROCK AND ROLL!” We threw our shots back like it was
1985, and apparently we were at a Mötley Crüe concert.

“
Either of you got singles
for a ten? I wanna play some songs,” I asked the guys, holding my
bill out. They each threw a hand full of singles on the table and
waved away my ten. “Make sure no one takes the table?”

“
Yeah, but you better play
some songs with electric guitars and not beat machines.” Larry
winked at me.

“
I got your electric
guitars, Larry,” I countered with an eye roll.

I leaned up against the juke box. If I was
going to listen to rock music, I was going to choose the shit I
liked, which as previously established would be classic rock or 90s
grunge. I fed the machine the singles Larry and Jesse had given me,
and started from the beginning.

“
Needle and the Damage Done?
You want us crying in our beers, Elle?” I jumped defensively and
shoved the body behind me. “Hey, it’s just me, sweetheart,” J cooed
in my ear, holding his hands up in surrender.

“
Sorry, reflex.” I turned
back to the juke box. “Cinnamon Girl?”

“
That’s better. What else
you got?” J asked, leaning into me as I rested forward on to the
juke box. His body seemed even larger, as I was in flat shoes and
not heels. It felt as if I was engulfed in this giant of a man. I
picked another song. “Smile by Pearl Jam. So, you’re not all hip
hop I see.” That spurred me on. “Sheep? Did you really just play a
fifteen minute song?” I gave him a crooked smile and a wink. “What
do you know about Pink Floyd?” J asked, obviously
stunned.

I smiled up at him. “I know they sucked
after Roger Waters left the band, and that when he brought them his
original version of the Wall they told him it was “too dark” and
they changed some of it,” I told J, making air quotes. “Really, I’d
like to see how much darker the Wall could be. I also know that
Animals was one of their worst received albums on the radio, but is
the best in my opinion.”

“
Impressive,” J smiled wide.
We picked out some more songs. He picked something by Kid Rock I
didn’t know, and Purple Rain. Prince. OK, that impressed me. I
chose an Eagles track, Civil War by Guns n Roses, Color Me Once by
the Violent Femmes, and Love Hate Thing by Wale. I looked up at J
as I pressed the last buttons for the Wale song he had gotten me
off to at Eight Oh Eight. I could tell by the half smile on his
face he caught my innuendo.

“
You know it’s adorable when
you do that half smile? You get a little dimple right here,” J
said, putting his finger on my lone dimple and running it down my
jaw, my neck, and over my collar bone. I shivered.

“
Hmmm. Funny, I was thinking
you looked pretty sexy when you turned up one side of your mouth.
Makes me want to see what I can do to get the other side up.” Oh,
good one Elle. Those shots were kicking in.

I asked J if he got
his
business
taken
care of. “For now,” he replied cryptically. OK, so I’m not stupid.
I know what business is. Or at least, I know there are a variety of
things that can be business and none of them were legal. I did my
own
business
from
time to time, and for me, that meant slangin’ some weed to make
extra money when funds were low. Amidst the storm of bullshit that
came out of my mother’s mouth, there were a few droplets of wisdom
she imparted upon me, usually in the form of sayings. One of which
came to me while I sat with J at the table.
If you ask a question, make sure you are prepared for all
possible answers
. I decided I didn’t want
to know what his business was.

“
So J, what else do you
do?”

“
Are you asking me my
hobbies?”

“
Sure,” I
shrugged.

“
Well Elle, I like to
garden, collect rare coins, and visit national monuments. How about
you?” J responded sarcastically. Oh, I could pay this game
too.

“
Well J, I too like to
collect rare coins as well as quilt and, scrapbook.” Oh yeah,
scrapbooking was good. I mentally high fived myself. I’m sure my
dimple was showing because I could feel my half smile and see
J’s.

J raised one eye brow, sporting that crooked
smile I was coming to adore. “Maybe we could compare our coin
collections sometime?” Touché J, too-mutha-fuckin-shay. Either
Aaron’s pep talk, or the three beers and three shots were kicking
in, because I was definitely slipping into Clubbin’ Elle, or
Kitchen Elle, or some hybrid of both, and he was keeping up.
Niiiice.

“
Maybe sometime indeed,” I
replied.

“
How about tomorrow? I’m
assuming you don’t work at the restaurant since I see you at Eight
Oh Eight on Saturday nights.” Whoa, talk about going in for the
kill. Twice in one night. He had seen me at the club enough to know
I had Saturday nights off?

“
Hey. What ya’ll talking
‘bout? Who’s your friend Elle?” Larry had impeccable timing as
always.

“
J,” he said, holding his
hand out to Larry.

“
Like J-A-Y?” Larry asked.
What the fuck kind of question was that? What was Larry
doing?

“
No like J, the letter.
Kinda like L, the letter,” J said, tipping his head towards
me.

“
You shoot pool, J?” Larry
asked. “Jesse lost, and is pouting.” Another round of drinks
arrived as Jesse walked up to the table with his full out pout face
on.

I got up and walked around the table. “Aw
Jesse it’s OK,” I told him patting his shoulder.

“
The girl with the big
titties kept leaning over the pool table across from us every time
I was lining up a shot. How am I supposed to make any balls in with
those things shaking around right in front of me?”

“
If you had balls you woulda
sunk a few more shots,” Larry snorted. I saw Jesse go on defense.
We might as well be in the kitchen if I was going to be running
interference between these two, a
nd
I wasn’t even getting paid for this? What the
hell?

“
I’m sure your balls are
just fine, Jesse,” I patronized.

“
See!” Jesse told Larry, not
getting my patronization at all. Larry winked at me, knowing what I
was up to.

“
Ah, sorry guys but, I gotta
head out. Nice meeting you though.” J reached out and shook Larry
and Jesse’s hands. He leaned down and said low enough so the guys
couldn’t hear him, “Call me tomorrow. I put my number in your
phone.”

“
What? When?” I
asked.

“
Mmmm. Great song choice.
I’m looking forward to hearing from you tomorrow, Elle,” J said as
he winked at me and walked away, Wale playing in the
background.

“
What was that about?” Larry
scowled.

“
Jesus Larry! You wanna piss
on me so no man ever talks to me?”

Larry mumbled something
about women, PMS, and more shots. I don’t know why I barked at him.
Of all the cooks, Larry knew the most about my history. I was glad
he was watching out for me. I guess he’d never had to watch a guy
hit on me that I was interested in. Usually, it was the short, ugly
guys who hit on me when I went out drinking with Larry. More than
once, I was asked out and pointed to Larry across the room,
claiming him as my boyfriend. It was different with J. I
wanted
J to devour
me!

I was reeling from the whole night. I
flagged the bus boy over, asked for a water and chugged it as soon
as it arrived. Larry and I went outside to smoke a cigarette.

“
Sorry, Elle. I wasn’t
trying to be a dick. You know I just want to make sure you’re OK.
And I didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you.”

“
And how was he looking at
me?”

“
I don’t know. Like he was
gonna eat you or something,” Larry said, taking his hat off and
running his hand through his hair. I laughed. I wished J would eat
me!

“
Don’t worry, man. My virtue
is safe,” I said, holding my hand over my heart and swaying a bit
for effect. “I’m gonna bounce. I’m sobered up enough. Call me if
you need a ride tomorrow. Catch a ride with Jesse and leave your
car here if you get hammered.”

“
Yes Mom.”

“
Fuck you,” I smiled, giving
Larry the finger and walking away.

Chapter
5

I woke up Saturday morning to my phone
ringing and my head pounding. I looked at the time. Who the hell
was calling me at 7am? I practically fell out of bed reaching for
the phone in my sleepy state.

“
Hello?” I
grumbled.

“
Hey, Elle, its Kevin.” Why
did I answer a call from work? “Look, we’re a man down in the
kitchen. Think you could come work the lunch shift?”

“
Fuck Kevin, you know I bust
ass Friday night so I can have Saturdays off.”

“
Yeah, but you didn’t work
last night.”

I rolled my eyes at his comment. “No cuz I
worked Black Friday ALL day, which you KNOW is way worse than the
night.”

“
Please, Elle. I’m hurting
here.” I sighed and rubbed the crust out of my eye, taking my time
answering.

“
Conditions,” I told him. He
wasn’t getting me for nothing. “I’m going back to sleep right now.
I’ll be there by ten when the doors open. I’ll stay no later than
four AND I’m coming in on Sunday at ten instead of eight in the
morning. Find someone to do my prep work.”

“
I can do everything but
Sunday.”

“
It’s a nonnegotiable deal.
Take it or leave it.” Yeah, that was harsh, but at seven in the
morning that’s what you got from a sleepy and disgruntled
Elle.

“
Well can you at least come
in at nine today?” Kevin begged. What part of nonnegotiable was he
not understanding?

“
Nonnegotiable, Kevin. It’s
everything or nothing.” I’d worked in the kitchen long enough to
know how to play this game. He would buckle. If he didn’t, he would
be flipping burgers or frying chicken by himself all
day.

“
Fine,” he
hissed.

“
See you at ten,” I said,
and tossed the phone on the nightstand. I got up, peed, took some
ibuprofen, and went back to bed until nine-thirty. I would forgo a
shower and roll in there right as the doors opened.

******

The day was slower than a usual Saturday, as
most people spent all their money the previous day on Christmas
presents. I was feeling a kinda lethargic, but my headache was
gone. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

CHRIS: u up?

ME: fuckin workin

CHRIS: u don’t work Sat days

ME: picked up shift