Chapter 5: Giraffes
and Security Blankies
“The shipment from Greece
is delayed, so our reserves of Kalamata olives, kefalograviera and mavrodaphne
wines are low, Santiago .
We’ll have to take some dishes from the menu ‘till we get stocked again”
He didn’t look pleased, so I had to pull the big guns.
“I thought it’d be a good
moment to replace them temporary for some of your signature dishes perhaps? If they’re a success, we can
always keep them on the menu and that would be a great opportunity for you”
His face said it all; nobody in their right mind would
refuse a chance like that.
“Do you think Renata would go along with it?”
“Renata doesn’t really care what we serve as long it
looks classy, and has a few ingredients with names she can’t pronounce properly”
“I can have a few dishes ready for tomorrow so we can meet
for a sample meeting and decide.”
I could almost see the mechanisms in his head starting
to move.
Crisis averted.
The first thing you have to take care of in a high-end
restaurant is having the Executive Chef happy. A pissy EC can make the lives of
every single person working there hell. Believe me, I’ve been there.
“Oh, one more thing, Bella: Do we still have to put up
with Barty’s crap?”
“No, I talked to him and made clear the Italian ocetra
he was trying to sell us was low-quality, so if he wants to have a deal with
us, he’d better send us the good stuff. He can always find a few
of those new moneys who don’t know their head from their butt to sell his cheap caviar.”
I went to the kitchen to grab a coffee before I sat at
my desk and started discussing the vegetables and herbs on the phone with our
providers.
Three seconds after my ass hit the chair, Renata came
strolling into my office swaying her hips with her usual weird cadence. She
must have thought it was sexy, but frankly I always found it forced. She
reminded me of the singers in one of those ‘all-girls’ groups during the
sixties.
But there was nothing girly or pink about Renata. She
was artificial from head to toe. Fake tan, hair extensions, tons of silicon
spread all over her body and long acrylic nails covered with channel’s ‘midnight
red’ polish.
She seemed to try for femme fatale but she usually ended up looking like Lindsay Lohan in
a trashy day.
She sat on the corner of my desk, clearly wanting
something. She was never at the restaurant that early, so whatever she was up
to, it couldn’t be good.
“Bella, sweetie, I was informed that you sat at one of
our V.I.P. guests’ table last night. Is that true?”
I nodded. I didn’t trust her when she started with the
sugar-coated nicknames and that dulcet tone.
“Well, you see, dear, I know you didn’t think you were
doing anything wrong, believe me…” She put one of her manicured hands on her
heart in an exaggerated gesture “…but we have an image to keep. Men like Ed
don’t appreciate the staff interrupting their meal.”
I was speechless, livid and embarrassed, all in one.
She must have misunderstood me, ‘cause she smiled condescendingly and went on
with her patronizing tone.
“Don’t worry, darling, no need to apologize. I’m just telling
you so you can learn from your mistakes. I talked to him and Edward’s a
gentleman; not only he didn’t complain, but he also tried to cover you saying
he had begged you to sit at his table”
She let out one of her affected practiced laughs
covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers.
“I know, right? Like anybody would believe Ed has ever
begged a girl for anything! And you, of all people? It was so hilarious that I
had trouble keeping my face straight when he told me that”
I’ve had enough of her crap.
“Edward actually asked me to keep him company. He’s my
dear friend and I couldn’t deny it to him, Renata. You have to understand,
right honey? Everybody knows how much he hates eating alone”
I plastered the sweetest smile I could muster on my
lips and looked innocently at her.
She didn’t disappoint. Her mouth opened and closed a
few times, but didn’t utter a word as her face went through various shades of
red, pink and purple. It was funny as hell! It was like looking at a
human-sized kaleidoscope with D-cups.
“Whatever” She finally managed to say and stormed out of
my office, the click-clack of her Manolo’s fading away in the corridor.
She scores! And the crowd goes wild! Ahhhhhh! Brunettes 2: Blondes 0
~ * ~
By the time I reached back home, I was restless. I
haven’t heard a word from Edward in all day, no phone call, not even a text. I
almost expected to find flowers at home delivered in my absence.
Nothing.
Granted Mike haven’t contacted me either, unless I
counted the usual two or three sentences he always sent me by email in the
mornings, but considering that it was mostly work-related, so it shouldn’t
count.
But it wasn’t Mike’s silence what was bothering me, after
all he had always been a man of few words, and he never called me if he didn’t
have anything in particular to ask or say. We could spend a week without seeing
each other or talking on the phone.
What was bothering me was the fact that I have grown
attached to Edward and I missed him.
Deciding that I shouldn’t be expecting anything from
him ‘cause he was nothing but a friend, I went to bed determined to examine my
situation with Mike instead. In the end, he was my boyfriend, and in the last
few days I’ve had some revelations about our relationship that were starting to
worry me.
Edward was right. Settling for the lesser evil only in
self-defence wasn’t healthy. Not that Mike was anywhere near evil, I mean, he
was my safe choice, I could have done way worse, but still…It wasn’t what I
wanted, I knew deep down that I’d never be truly happy, I'd just get used. And I would
be dragging an innocent down with me.
After some time, I’d become bitter and take my
frustration on him.
Besides, didn’t everybody deserve a chance to find
that kind of love that melts you bones and give you wings? A love all consuming
and world-shaking that makes you forget your own name? If I dragged him with
me, I’d be stealing that chance from him too.
I might not find that love for me, but would I be able
to live in peace knowing that Mike lived his life without his opportunity
because of me?
I knew there was a possibility that none of us ever
found it, but still, I couldn’t carry the burden of killing somebody else’s
dreams along with mine. And much less if my only apparent excuse was cowardice
and convenience.
If I didn’t have the guts to try to fly, even with the
excuse of my mangled wings, could I chain up another person to me so none of us
could take the sky? Only to avoid feeling lonely? ‘Cause routine was safe?
I didn’t think so. I felt like a horrible person, so
guilty and selfish.
What if Mike’s ideal woman had already come and gone,
and he didn’t met her ‘cause he was with me? What if his train had already
left?
What if you’re Mike’s train?
That was impossible. I couldn’t be the woman of his
dreams. First of all, ‘cause I couldn’t picture myself as anybody’s ideal, but
most importantly ‘cause no matter what I thought of myself, there was no spark.
Damn spark! I could have lived my life without
experiencing that electricity, that jolt of magic that pulls you to another
person like a magnet, without even noticing it.
Thanks to Edward now I knew how it felt, and I had
never felt like that with Mike, not even in the beginning. It has always been
the same gentle care, hugs without emotion, gazes without intensity, sex on
weekends out of routine.
I had been thankful when he first made love to me,
‘cause he had been kind.
Kind…
Kind is pink.
Kind is tame.
Kind is mild.
Mike was mild. In all the aspects of his life. He
wanted safety, comfort, order. He never raised his voice and he never did
anything crazy just because. He never made love anywhere aside from a bed,
never on a weekday and preferably with the lights off.
I fell asleep still thinking about that. Could I let
go of my security blanket? Could I ruin his life by being selfish and keeping
him?
~ * ~
Tuesday crawled at snail pace. Not a sign from Edward,
Alice has taken
a few days off and she was visiting her family in N.C., nothing exciting
happening at Mela’s and I still haven’t made up my mind about my boyfriend.
If I considered it, the day wasn’t any different from
any other day in the past; the problem was a lot of things had happened the
previous days. Things that put my world upside-down. I couldn’t even examine
each situation for a certain amount of time that something else was happening
next.
And then, nothing.
I guessed I was having an abstinence crisis. It seemed
I had become an adrenaline junkie in two days.
Should we call you an
Edward junkie?
Why in hell didn’t he come with a warning label? “Don’t directly apply to exposed skin, highly addictive. No known antidotes”. Even
insecticide companies do that all the time and they have the antidote for
fudge’s sake!
~ * ~
The house was empty without Ali. I brought food home
from the restaurant as usual, I didn’t even think it’d be only me.
I imagined that camping on the couch for a while would
make me feel less lonely, so I turned on the TV, set the volume low and had my
usual midnight snack there.
Contrary to what most people think, when you are
the manager of a restaurant you don’t actually get any chances to have a decent
meal at the time the rest of the normal beings do. You can either take a chance
and try to eat while praying Heaven no mayor problem will arise while you’re at
it; or you can be more realistic and grab a bite before the rush hour and then
starve until you get home, like me.
I was halfway down my dessert when I had the great
idea.
I was good at business; I had filled all the
unpleasant ‘holes’ in my life with work and I had survived. Perhaps if I analysed
my problem with Mike using a detached business perspective I could arrive to
the conclusions I so desperately needed.
I brought my lappy to the couch and started with the
research.
Forty minutes later, I had the situation almost
wrapped up.
I had to eliminate 99% of the common reasons why
relationships usually go downhill, but after reading a few articles and taking five
different tests, I decided that the lack of spark was indeed a good reason.
What?
It was listed, so it worked for me.
I felt sorry for the couples having problems worse
than mine, I even felt lucky in contrast.
There were only two solutions to our problem: Counselling
or separating for a determined period of time and use that period to revaluate
and then decide.
I discarded counselling ‘cause both members were
supposed to talk about what they thought they were missing and what they could
do to meet each other’s expectations; and once the common ground was
determined, compromise.
That wasn’t clearly going to work considering Mike was
hunky-dory, I was the one with the problem. And we’d never reach to any
agreement ‘cause Mike was just not what I wanted, he was what I needed to feel
safe and I was supposed to put on my big girl panties and let go of the security
blanky in spite of everything.
Now, they idea of taking some time, each one on their
own, to revaluate had possibilities.
First, it wouldn’t be such a traumatic break up if we decided to end our
relationship when the ‘trial period’ was over; and second, it would give me an
idea of what to expect. What if I ended up missing Mike like crazy and wanted
to be with him? What if I felt lost without him and couldn’t let him go?
Yeah, the ‘trial period’ sounded like a loophole to
get back in if I found out that I didn’t have the guts to break up with him.
And at least I’d have the experience for the future, something to think of each
time I wanted to set the picket fence on fire.
Finally the statistics showed that the 95% of the
couples who took that option never came back together. Oh well, that had to do
with an attachment curve I didn’t understand clearly, but apparently I was in
the ‘high avoidance and dismissing’ quadrant, whatever that meant.
Pfffhhhh!! At least I had something I could work with.
Empiric information and stats were part of my safe world, I could move easily
there. When nobody asked you to feel, just to examine a situation and take
decisions, things were a lot simpler.
I went to bed that night determined to talk to Mike
and ask him for some time to think.
~ * ~
I woke up to Jace Everett singing on my night table.
“When you came in the air went out and every shadow
filled up with doubt…”
What? Bad things was the ringtone I’ve set for Edward.
I’d have gone for Closer by NIN but it would have been difficult to explain if
I wasn’t alone and my cell started screaming about wanting to fuck somebody
like an animal. Bad things was safe, I could tell anybody that I liked it from
True Blood and problem solved.
And I wanted to do bad things with him anyway…real bad
things
About fucking time the Ice
Queen started to melt
Shut up, bitch! I don’t argue with my conscience
before my first cup of coffee.
“Morning, love. Did I wake you up?”
I sighed in relief. God! How could I have missed his
voice so much?
“No…yes, but it’s ok, it’s the time I usually wake up,
don’t worry Edward”
“Ok, I wanted to get a hold of you before you had
breakfast, I think I got that one right at least. I apologize for waking you up...Would
you like to have breakfast with me?”
“I’d love to, but…”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t think you could be busy in the
morning. Maybe tomorrow?”
“No…It’s not that, I’m not busy. I don’t even work on
Wednesdays, it’s just…You-wouldn’t-want-toseemeinthemorning” I said in a rush
“Say what?”
Yay! I finally confused Edward Cullen! Go me!
“Could you repeat that, love? But slower this time,
please. I haven’t been awake for too long and still need my coffee to function”
I had to laugh at that. Apparently I wasn’t the only
one whose brain worked on caffeine.
“Edward, do you have any idea how long a woman needs
to be decent enough to brave the streets? A lot of time! That’s why we tend to
have breakfast at home, in sleepwear and barefoot, and once properly
caffeinated and fed, we start the tricky task of making ourselves presentable”
“Sleepwear and barefoot? That sounds tempting…Tell me,
are we talking about skimpy sleeping clothes?”
“You wish! The Southern Belle Nazi is in Charlotte visiting her
family…I’m taking advantage of her absence and wearing an old, huge thermal
shirt and knitted socks.”
Did he groan?
“Your description still sounds tempting, Bella”
“Oh, nonono. Believe me, my rainbow socks are anything
but sexy”
“I doubt it. Anyway, is the ‘no encounters for
breakfast’ one of the Pink Ladies’ rules?
“Of course!” I tried to sound indignant but failed
miserably.
“And Alice
left you alone…How very un-pink of her! What if you picked a bag that crashed with
your dress color? What if - God forbid us all- you went out wearing something
banned by the Southern Belles’ society?”
The mock of horror in his voice made me giggle. He was
chuckling too.
“I tell you what we’re going to do, Bella. You have 15
minutes to put on your rattiest jeans, sneakers and whatever thing you want to
wear on top. I’ll pick you up and we’re gonna have breakfast…”
“But…”
“No buts, love. You said Pink Ladies didn’t have fun. Today
we’re gonna break as many rules in that fucking pink book as possible. Now get
ready, cos the clock is ticking. 15 minutes. I promise I’ll drag you into my
car when your time is over no matter what you’re wearing…And as much as I’d
enjoy having you half-dressed, I don’t think you’d appreciate it”
And the line went dead.
I tried to call him back but he had turned off his
cell phone.
Son of a shrimp in tartar sauce!
The clock is ticking,
babycakes…
Right. I had the feeling that being completely dressed
by the time he arrived would be a good idea.
He wanted ratty clothes? I’d show him ratty. I jumped out of my bed and headed to the closet laughing.
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