suddenly miles away, probably imagining strolling hand-in-hand with this John-guy on a beach in Acapulco.
Barbara broke into her friend’s daydream. “So, how long have you known him?”
“Almost a month—“
Barbara exclaimed in mock astonishment, “My God, that’s longer than the two weeks with Bill.”
“Yeah, and a month is certainly enough time to know that John’s the right one.”
Barbara cupped her friend’s hand but raised and lowered her well-tended eyebrows, “So you’re definitely giving up your tomcatting ways? For sure?”
Carol picked at a jagged nail and mumbled more to her self than to her friend, “Won’t be hard. I’m getting tired of the single life anyways.”
Barbara laughed, “Oh gosh, Carol. You’ll never tire of the single life.” Her face lost its smile and she rubbed at her forehead. “Why is it that we seem to be drinking a lot more than a year ago?”
Carol stuck out her lower lip. “I’m afraid that you’ve become a lush, Barb. Me? My drinking habits haven’t changed.”
Chapter 8
Barbara had an early dinner in her office. The chef’s salad, the same on Fiore’s menu, was tasteless - she felt that she was eating chewy cardboard. She was becoming quite paranoid: She imagined that if she stepped outside for a moment the numbers in the computer would be different when she returned. Did the person who was embezzling know what his actions were doing to her psyche, to her self-respect? She made a half-turn and gazed at herself in the little mirror hanging above the computer. “I can’t let this affect me so.” So it was with determination that she stomped out of her office, daring the numbers to change.
As she pushed through the swinging door to the hallway, Carol eagerly beckoned to her as she glanced over toward the stockroom that was to the right of the bar. “Have you seen him?”
“No, I’ve been holed up in the— Seen who?”
“The new employee. I saw him out in the parking lot.”
“Oh Carol, I’ve got so many things to do before dinner.”
She shook her head. “Nope, this is way more important. Eye candy, come do your work.” She peeked through one of the little windows in the double doors to the stockroom and nodded. “He’s in there.” She urged her friend to the door and gazed through the window. “Voila, our new waiter.”
Barbara rolled her eyes doubtfully but obeyed her friend – she looked through the other window. She couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath that escaped her lips.
The man in question was standing with his back to her near the stack of wine boxes that had been delivered the day before and shrugging into the short jacket of his waiter’s uniform. He plucked at the shoulders of his jacket for they were much too tight. He was tall, slim, broad-shouldered and had wavy, coal black hair. Usually not a butt woman, nevertheless Barbara’s eyes were riveted to that part of his anatomy – both were round and firm. And when he turned around she gasped for he was the most handsome man she had ever set eyes on. From his straight forehead and nose to his high prominent cheekbones, determined jaw and sharp chin, his swarthy face was all angles. His full lips were pursed, as he seemed to be whistling. Barbara whispered, “Oh my, oh my.” But her nose touched the window and the door squeaked. His large, black eyes honed in on the cause of the slight creak and focused on her as he peered through one of the windows. He smiled, showing perfect, white teeth as he greeted her with a soundless ‘hello.’
She crouched on the floor and yanked her friend down beside her. “Oh God!” she exclaimed and hissed, “He saw us! Why, why do I listen to you?”
“Because I’m usually up on the latest,” she thumbed behind her, “events.”
Barbara smirked then said seriously, “I didn’t even know we needed another waiter. Carlos must have hired him himself today.”
Just then the devastatingly handsome young man poked his head out the doors. “Signorine, I hear you.” He drew his head back in.
Barbara mouthed, “Italian!”
Carol turned her head toward her and smiled at her usually taciturn friend’s excitement. “His name’s Silvio. What a name. Doesn’t that accent get your blood flowing? What do you think?”
She shrugged nonchalantly though her breathing had accelerated. “J-just a little sexy.”
Chapter 9
As Barbara sat in her desk chair, she found that once again she couldn’t concentrate though this time it had nothing to do with the disappearing money. She swiveled around and found herself looking out the window behind her desk and daydreaming. “I shouldn’t be doing any such thing when I should be working at my desk.” Silvio. Every time she thought about Fiore’s handsome new employee and his marvelous accent she was affected in ways she thought impossible for someone like her to experience except in her dreams. Of course Carol was affected that way most every day. Being aroused was probably commonplace for her. She propped her chin on the palm of her hand as her elbow rested on the windowsill and she sighed: She pictured Silvio and her sitting across from each other at her dining room table in her apartment eating some delicious concoction she had just whipped up (she rolled her eyes for she couldn’t cook). When he thought she wasn’t looking, he would glance towards the bedroom door. So after… She shook the daydream, one of many, from her head and spun around in her chair back to her desk. Get back to work! But almost immediately she felt her mind begin to wander. Throughout the week she had made excuses to run into him a multitude of times and each time she couldn’t believe how perfect he was…even down to his ring-less finger. And it didn’t seem that he had any idea just how perfect he was. How sexy was that?
* * *
Later in the evening, Barbara stood in the corner of Fiore’s dining room as if making notes on her blank clipboard. She watched the new waiter move from table to table. The female patrons forgot their husbands or boyfriends as they looked into those dark eyes, listened to his halting English and ordered as slowly as possible. Their eyes followed his retreating figure (and his firm butt), as hers did, also. She was fairly certain that the enamored women would also be inflating the tips left by their dates.
Her eyes briefly met his as he took a step toward the kitchen. His smile, as his luxuriant lashes drooped over the tops of his high cheekbones, was tentative and almost self-deprecating. She felt her cheeks grow warm. He must realize how handsome he is! She glanced at him one more time, sighed in frustration and lowered her pen and prop to her thighs. Turning toward the lounge, she thought, I’ve got to do something, if only to satisfy my own lust!
Chapter 10
Would it never end? For five mornings Barbara had been disappointed and angered to see the discrepancies between her remembered totals that she had entered the night before and the ones in her computer in the morning. So far that month nearly $15,000 had mysteriously disappeared. She was seriously considering resigning as manager. Though she wasn’t the embezzler, she was no closer to finding out who was. She was a failure. But suddenly she smiled. She laid her pencil down and sat back. Her eyes blurred and she smiled blissfully as she thought once more of Fiore’s
