“Do you have a menu? Food and drink go together, you know.”
He pointed to the bar countertop. Behind a plastic sandwich-board easel was a list of ready-made sandwiches and snacks—peanuts, packaged cheese and crackers, potato chips, corn chips, corn snacks, M&M’s, Oreos, and a jar of pickles that were an unnatural shade of emerald green. Together with the olives and pearl onions for the martinis, the wedges of lemons, limes, and oranges, plus a jar of maraschino cherries, that was it for the grub in the area. “I think your bar food could use a little updating.”
“Tell it to the boss.”
“Do the guests get any kind of edibles for free?”
“Ice.”
“How much are the peanuts?”
“A dollar each.”
Ro checked her purse. “Give me twenty packets. Also, give me twenty shot glasses.” Salvador looked at her. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
He handed her the plastic bags of peanuts. She distributed half of them in the shot glasses, put one glass on each of the ten tables, then put three on the bar top. She kept the rest behind the bar for refills. “Give me some of the martini olives.”
He was skeptical.
“I’ll only put them on the bar, okay?”
He raised his eyebrows. “If the boss sees me doing this, I’m dead.”
“Who’s the boss?”
“Elaine. She’s not here.”
“How often does she come around?”
“Not often.” He paused, then gave her the tub of martini olives. “Do what you want.”
“You’re a believer.” She put a few of them in shot glasses on the bar counter. It was five in the afternoon. “Now leave the rest to me, okay?” As three men came off the elevator, Ro said to Salvador, “Watch and learn, amigo.
“Hey, guys, where are you going?” They turned to Ro, clearly baffled. She said, “It’s cold outside. C’mon. Have a seat. Keep it in-house, you know.” She smiled. “Please?”
“We’re going to dinner,” one of them said. “Do you serve dinner?”
“No, but I serve happy hour. Have a cocktail first. That and my gorgeous face will put you all in a good mood.”
They smiled, shrugged, and sat down. One of them started popping peanuts into his mouth. Salt was good for business. They ordered a whiskey straight up, a glass of red wine, and a martini with an olive. Ro took the order by memory and related it to Sal. “I’m going to need a pad and pencil.”
He handed her what she had asked for. The next two men started toward the door, but when they saw the trio already sitting at a table, they stopped and discussed. Ro gave them her most blinding smile, which clinched the deal. She showed them to a table and immediately took their order before they could change their minds. “Any snacks before dinner?”
“What do you have?” asked a suit.
“Not much, I’m afraid. How about if I buy you some olives and you buy the martinis.”
The suit laughed. “Sure.”
Ro gave the second order of the night to Sal. This time he was smiling. Within an hour, five tables were filled, the guests drinking and snacking. Then it went dry for a couple of hours. When dinnertime was over, around eight, the suits started returning. Ro went to work again—smiling and wiggling. By nine, it was packed. Her only problem was she had never heard of half the drinks.
She went up to Sal. “I need a whiskey sour and a—God, I’ll feel like I’m saying something racist—a Negro something.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Help me out, soldier.”
“A negroni?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“You don’t know a lot about drinks, do you.”
“No, I do not.”
“I figured you for a boozer. Figured that’s why you wanted to work at a bar. Freebies.”
“Good guess, but wrong. I’m not a boozer. It does strange things to my judgment and it’s too many calories.”
“Pot?”
“Only on occasion. Basically, my downfall is hubris. But that’s for another day. I also need another order of olives and nuts.”
“We’re running out.”
She grinned. “Told you.”
Sal handed her the drinks. “This one’s the sour, the pink one is the negroni. The color comes from Campari. That’s an Italian liqueur.”
“Sal, you are not only knowledgeable, you are a savior. Thank you.”
By the end of the evening, Salvador was begging Tomas to hire her on. They each had fifty-six dollars in their pockets and would have had more if the bar hadn’t run out of snacks. He said, “We did twenty times the usual business, Tom. It’s a no-brainer.”
“I need to check with Elaine.”
“If you don’t hire me tonight, I’m moving on,” Ro told him. “I need money and I need job security.”
Tomas was still suspicious. But peer pressure prevailed and he handed her an application. “This all depends on what Elaine says.”
“Fine. Talk to Elaine.” She filled out all the boxes as she talked. “Tell her I’m not only good for business, but I’ll be good for repeat business.” She smiled. “And I’m happy to help out wherever I’m needed—like if you guys need a few minutes to go to the bathroom or talk to your girlfriend or something. I’ll be happy to do desk duty for you.”
“You ever work hotel management?” Tomas asked.
“In New York,” she lied. “How about this?” She leaned over and looked sincerely into Tomas’s eyes. “I’ll come in early tomorrow and you can give me a tutorial on the computer . . . how your hotel works. I pick things up very quickly.”
“Only if Elaine says okay.”
“Tell her I’ll work minimum wage and for tips.” She handed him back the application. “Good night.”
She left without looking back, walking straight to her car parked in a very dark lot. When Salvador spoke, she jumped.
“Sorry to scare you.”
“No prob. Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it. I need the money.”
He stared at her. “You know you could do way better somewhere else.”
“I could.” He was not as dumb as she thought. “Honestly, I want to work behind the desk. That’s the goal. And I thought this was a good place to start. It’s close to home.”
“Okay.” His eyes cased her body. “I think there’s more to your story, but I’ll buy it. Want to go out for a drink at a real bar? My treat.”
“You saw my ID. I’m nineteen.”
“I’ll drink, you can have soda.”
“I’m zonked. I’ve got some studying to do. I’m going home to bed.”
“JC?”
“Pardon?”
“Junior college.”
“Yeah, junior college. Of course I go to junior college.” She gave his arm a light punch. “I’m nineteen. And my mom’s waiting up for me. I really gotta go.”
“You live at home?”
“Yes, I do, Salvador.”
“So do I. I live with my mom. My old man split like ten years ago.”
“The louse.”
“Yeah, he’s a real son of a bitch. But he does send me money when I ask.”
“Everyone has a bit of redemption.”
“C’mon. Let’s grab a cup of coffee. I think you know this already, but you’re really cute.”
“Thank you for the compliment. And you’re a cute guy, Salvador. But right now, I’m a little heavy in the boy department.” He looked confused and rightly so. “I have two boyfriends. A third would be a little ridiculous.”
“Two boyfriends?”