six
(belle)
*NOW*
It was a quiet little Italian restaurant. My father got me the job as a favor and I ended up staying way too long. I got too close to the family that owned the place and now I felt completely stuck there. The owner, Marco, had been through two divorces. His kids had grown up and moved on, while I was still there, working. His mother, Annie, had battled two types of cancer, beaten them both, only to fall, break her hip, and somehow end up with pneumonia, and that’s what took her precious life.
The restaurant had seen hundreds of workers come and go but I was one of the few that stuck it out. I could handle the family drama, the crises, and everything else in between. I could handle Marco when he drank too much and talked to me about his future. I could handle the people, the drunks, the complaints, and I could handle decorating the place for each stupid holiday all on my own.
The truth was that it wasn’t about comfort. It wasn’t about having a job. That part was nice. Thanks to my suggestions and Marco’s willingness to spend a little money, we took the restaurant from a small casual place into something a tad bit more upscale. Marco promoted me and I was able to make enough to survive and have plenty left over. Trust me, I wasn’t rich. I wasn’t retiring at forty or anything. I had a one bedroom apartment, a used car that needed an oil change, and the last time I bought myself something new at the mall was for the black dress I wore to Annie’s funeral. (And even then, Marco slipped me a hundred bucks to get something nice.)
What it was… family.
I felt like I was part of a family. The restaurant was home.
A guy named Jake was like the drunk uncle. He’d sit at the end of the counter, drink fifteen cups of coffee, tell war stories for hours, watch the news and critique the country. He’d toss down five bucks, tip his cap, and leave. The Bollary brothers would come in for lunch every day. They owned a construction company. They ordered the same food, complained about their jobs, hated their wives, wished they never had kids. They’d tip and leave.
My days and nights were all routine.
I had once heard rumbling about Marco getting involved with the mob but that was just a rumor. There was part of the mob in town, but Hector - the head chef - told me that the Reaper’s Bastards MC took them on to keep the peace. Some of his stories were a little out there but fun to hear.
My plan was to get to work at three, get all the orders and paperwork done by four, start my waitress shift at four-o-five, and then clock out around midnight and go home. I’d eat ice cream, pretend to be happy, watch a movie, touch myself, and go to sleep. In that exact damn order. Yeah, I had the whole virgin thing dangling over my head, but it wasn’t a halo. I had needs. So I took care of them when needed.
My plan went to hell around five when Marco got into a fight over the phone with a vendor. As I tried to calm that storm, he and Hector ended up spatting over something stupid. Marco thought Hector was using too much oil in the fryer and that started a war of words. I couldn’t catch my breath and before I knew it, it was almost seven. The restaurant was in full swing, I managed to get Marco to go down the basement to his office, and I told myself to take a break.
I ended up outside and stood there, sipping soda. Two waitresses finished up their cigarettes and headed back inside.
I hadn’t heard from my father in a few days which usually meant he was working on something big. Or maybe he was finally pulling away for good. He knew how I felt about him and what he did to me growing up. Yeah, it was nice to have a parent that cared but there was a line. He always crossed that line. Yet he would arrest people for crossing the lines he set. It was so hypocritical.
The door swung open behind me and out walked Hector.
“Hey, girl,” he said.
“Hey.”
He put his foot up and reached for a cigarette. He lit it up and sighed. “Want one?”
“No thanks.”
“You should.”
“They’re bad for your health.”
“Everything is bad for your health. What are you worried about? We’re all going to die.”
“How sweet.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Hector.”
“How’s that cherry of yours?” he asked. “Still going… or did you…”
Hector was like the gross cousin who had no barriers. He somehow survived, had nothing to show for himself, and he was perfectly fine with it.
I swallowed hard. “This again?”
“Hey, girl, I’m just worried about you. I care about you. Not like that, but you know, you gotta get it, girl.”
“First off, my cherry was popped a long time ago,” I said.
Hector raised an eyebrow.
Again, virgin didn’t mean nothing was ever done to me. Then again, someone once told me that most young ladies were probably more prone to popping their cherry when they used a tampon versus anything else.
“You ain’t been fucked though,” he said so boldly.
“You offering?” I asked.
Hector grinned. He had a couple gold teeth near the back of his mouth that flickered in the light above the back of the restaurant. “Aw, girl, I’d love to. I’d tear you right up and hold you tight while you figured out what just happened.” He then took a big drag on his cigarette and tossed it. “But before that, I have to go cook some fucking food because Marco threatens to chop my head off again.”
I laughed as Hector went back inside.
He was a good guy. I’d known him since I started working there. More than once he came to my defense, knocking people around if they looked at me the wrong way. We were way too close for anything to happen. He always asked me when I was going to get laid and I always told him when he did.
I finished my break and went back into the restaurant.
I walked through the kitchen, making sure everything was running smoothly.
Out in the dining room, things were ticking along just the way they were supposed to be. I was actually having a great night with tips so far and it seemed to only be getting better.
Forcing a smile to my face I went to the next table, two guys that had just been sat down. One look at them and I knew I was in for trouble. They were far too clean cut and already half drunk. One of them went right to my chest before meeting my eyes.
That’s the way to a woman’s heart…
Inside, I sighed.
Outside, I asked them what I could get them to drink.
Little did I know before the end of my shift, my entire life was going to change.