 
Brand New Day: Book Three - Square One

Copyright © 2015 by Wren Rogers

Published and distributed by Eastside Publications

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief (cited) quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 978-0-9972795-2-8

website – www.wrenrogersbooks.com

email –contact@wrenrogersbooks.com

The Brand New Day series is a work of fiction based certain facts. With some exceptions, the businesses, streets, buildings, bridges and other historical and geographical details are factual.

In some examples, characters may use foul language, engage in explicit sexual acts, violence and other illegal activities. Characters may abuse drugs and alcohol, use racial stereotyping, bigotry, and make offensive racial remarks and or actions. The viewpoint of these characters is not in any way related to the personal viewpoints of the author.

None of the content in this book, or any in the series, was intended to offend, anger, profile or otherwise cause any gender, race, color, creed or doctrine harm or distress.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

More Books in the Series

Author Bio
Chapter 1

The familiar Cincinnati skyline came into view as the Leer jet descended through the clouds towards the runway. After the plane touched down, it taxied to a private hanger. Despite their bruises, wounds and limps, the weary group trudged down the stairs, their feet finally on the ground after a nearly continuous flight from Tokyo. Stepping out of the airport terminal into the humid Ohio heat, the foursome sank into the seats of The Caller's black Mercedes Benz.

Speeding away, they relaxed in unison. They were finally home. The past thirty hours had been a blur of quick refueling stops, cold sandwiches, hot coffee and haunting memories of Vietnam. Resting in the cool conditioned air of Benz, their terrifying experience in Can Tho faded into the background like some forgotten waking dream.

As instructed by George, The Caller drove Rob, Ellen and Maria straight to The Ship. Rob realized where they were going as they neared the riverfront.

"We can't go straight to work now! Are you crazy? We need to change and shower and rest. Jesus what kind of crisis could be going on in a damn restaurant?"

The Caller stayed his course.

"My instructions are to take you directly to George. From there, it's between you and him," he replied calmly.

Rob sat back in silent frustration, wondering why they were needed so badly on The Ship that George bothered to whisk them home in a private jet. Pulling in, George was waiting in a haze of cigar smoke at the end of the gangplank. The Benz stopped as he walked up to the door, leaning into the window.

"Welcome home Chef Rob!" George said cheerfully. "Miss Ellen, it's good to have you back. I hear you had quite an adventure bringing your sister to America. I worried I may never see you return. I'm happy to see you both made it back home with her safely."

Ellen smiled. "You're help was a lifesaver, literally. I cannot thank you enough," she said smiling from the back seat.

Maria sat silent. Rob looked at George with aggravation.

"I really appreciate your help too George, but I can't understand what the big deal is with bringing us straight here. We need to at least get showers and fresh clothes before we come back to work. We just landed from a thirty hour..."

George cut him off. "Of course, go home take your showers, then return here in two hours. You have much preparations to do for tonight. I want your best creations, every detail to perfection for a very important party. Miss Ellen, I will need you as well. I have heard so much about your excellent skills. I need my best and brightest server for the party tonight."

Ellen nodded. "Of course, we owe you so much. I would be happy to serve the party tonight."

George nodded with satisfaction. "Do you have any funds remaining?" he asked.

"Not a dime. It was all stolen. It's too terrible of a thing to even talk about," Rob replied.

Taking his wallet from his breast pocket, George took out three hundred dollar bills, handing them to Rob with a nod.

"This will help get you by until payday."

"Thanks George, we are more than thankful for your help," Rob said as he passed the bills over to Ellen.

Smiling, she thanked him as well. George tapped the roof and The Caller sped off.

"Where to?" The Caller asked.

"I could stop by my place, grab some clothes and head home with you, if you don't mind that is," Rob said to Ellen.

Ellen beamed with a smile. "Sure. I will get Maria settled in dad's room while you get ready."

"Cool, Then lets head to my place. 210 Main St. if you would please," Rob said to The Caller.

"I wonder what is so important about this private party?" Ellen asked as they rode along.

Rob was just as curious. "I have no idea, but I'm glad to get back to work."

They both pondered what importance the party had as they drove on. Shortly, the driver stopped in front of Rob's apartment building.

"I'll be back in two minutes," Rob said, dashing from the car.

Standing at his door, he was fishing pockets for his keys when Terry, the building manager appeared.

"Hey Rob," Terry said downhearted. "Man I hate to tell you this but your rent was due yesterday. The owners are selling the building and everyone even one day late on rent is evicted. I put your stuff in the basement instead of on the curb. I feel real bad about it but my hands are tied."

Rob hung his head. "All my stuff is down there?" he asked, as he headed down the stairs.

Eyeing the pile, Rob gathered his whites and what he could carry from the items.

"I will be back tomorrow to get the rest. If that's okay?" Rob asked.

Terry looked embarrassed. "Sure no problem. I will keep the door locked. Man, I'm so sorry."

Rob thanked him and carried the load back to the car. Stuffing his clothes into the car, he shut the door.

"Looks like I'm homeless," Rob said.

Ellen leaned to his seat. "Why? What's going on?"

"I guess I was late on rent. Now I'm out. Something about the owners selling the building," he replied.

"Maria will have my dad's room. You can move in with me and share my room... if you want," Ellen said as she looked at Rob with a nervous smile.

Rubbing her leg. Rob agreed and thanked her. Sitting back in the seat, he relaxed.

"That sounds great Ellen. We can spend a lot more time together now," he replied.

The stress of the eviction quickly faded with the notion of being so close to Ellen daily.

At Ellen's apartment Rob showered while she got their clothes ready. The Caller waited impatiently on the sofa. Rob came out dressed in his clean whites as Ellen took her turn in the shower.

Rising off from his seat, the Caller looked at Rob. "I am going to a hotel after I drop you two off. I hope I don't have to come looking for you."

Rob shot him a smirk as he tied his shoes.

"Why would you need to come looking for me? I'm not going anywhere except to work."

The Caller nodded then turned to the door.

"I will be in the car. We need to get going. Get ready and be down in a few minutes so we can go please."

Ellen rushed to get ready. Before leaving, she showed Maria her new room. Smiling, she handed Maria her coveted quilt.

"This is a quilt your grandmother made. I know you never met her, but I want you to have it. It always brings me peace. While we are gone you can set up your room any way you like."

Taking the quilt in hand, Maria thanked her.

Handing Maria her cell phone, Ellen explained its functions, showing her how to call Rob.

"If you need to call, swipe the screen like this... then press here. Then just touch Rob's name. When you're done talking, press the red button. Don't let anyone in. This is your place too now so just make yourself at home and I'll see you in a few hours. I will come straight home, but it could be late."

With a sad heart over having to leave so quickly, she gave Maria a warm hug and a goodbye before she headed out the door.

As Ellen left for The Ship, she wondered what Maria must have been thinking about her new home. Just a day ago, she was a dangerous guard in a drug gang, living as man from birth. Now she was in Newport Kentucky, and finally free to unwrap her breasts and dress as woman. Maria waved from the patio as The Caller's Mercedes pulled away from the curb.
Chapter 2

Walking into the lobby beside Rob, Ellen felt a strange sense of home about The Ship. She had always liked working here. The Ship made up the best years of her server career to date. George greeted them with a smile as they walked in.

"Miss Ellen, Chef Rob, I am so glad to see you. Come, we have much to prepare," he said, with his arms outstretched. Waving, he motioned them over to a table.

"Miss Ellen, tonight will be an easy night for you. I have a special party to entertain. I want you to be the one to take care of all their needs. You need not concern yourself with any duty tonight or any tables other than this one."

Ellen looked at Rob with surprise. "Okay so what else will I be doing?" she asked George.

George put a hand on her shoulder. "Nothing. You will attend to these guests and no one else."

Ellen smiled. "Cool, that's easy. What time will they be here?" she asked.

"They will arrive around eight. I want you to prepare the tables, polish every plate, glass, fork and spoon for the table's needs. Iron the linen, clean and organize the table. Then, you may relax, or eat a quick meal, until you are needed for service. "

George took his wallet from his breast pocket.

"Here is three hundred dollars. There will be no charge to my guests, take this so there is no need to be concerned with the gratuity."

Ellen thanked him, waving the money to Rob with a smile. Nearly stone-broke, they were both relieved at the generous offer.

Turning Rob's way, George smiled. "Chef Rob, tonight I want my guests to experience your finest creations. Nothing from the menu, and please serve those decadent cheesecake desserts tonight. You must make every effort to..."

He explained his wishes as he walked with Rob to the kitchen. Ellen was excited. With George's tip, plus the money he gave them earlier, they already had $600. That would hold them over until payday. She couldn't wait to get back home and take Maria out to shop for a few new feminine clothes. Even though her head was still shaved, Ellen was certain she could make Maria look more lady like with proper dress.

Walking to set up her table, Ellen felt giddy. She was good at this. She was comfortable in her element here. Charley shot her a cold stare as she walked up to Ellen's table.

"George wants you to wait on this party. I don't know why he thinks you are the only one who can do it, but whatever," she said with a dismissing wave of her hand. "You're here now, so you might as well get to work getting the table ready," Charley said as she stomped off in her usual trot.

Tonight, Charley's attitude didn't phase Ellen's emotions. Charley no longer had the power to upset her. The adventure in Vietnam had changed Ellen forever. She was much more confident now in whom she was, and what she was doing.

"Welcome back Elle!" Jules yelled from behind the bar.

"Oh hey! I missed you Jules," Ellen said as Jules leaned to hug her.

Jules shot a glance Charley's way as she passed by the bar.

"Look who's the boss now," Jules whispered. "Weird huh? Our worst server ever is now our worst manager ever."

Ellen raised her eyebrows. "That's a serious promotion for Charley. It didn't seem to change her much."

Jules laughed. "Nope, still a real bitch. I bet she will be asking you for help soon. She's all worked up over not being able to make sense of the manager reports or something. She keeps asking me stupid questions about transferring tabs and stuff."

Shrugging, Ellen was unconcerned. "Not my job to teach her. I'm just a lowly server right?"

Jules agreed. "Yeah, a lowly server she doesn't want around to make her look bad."

They both laughed together in unison.

Hello's and handshakes surrounded Rob as he walked into the kitchen. Miguel hugged him immediately.

"Amigo! So good to see you my friend."

Armando went into a rap about Rob.

"My Amigo Rob is back on the boat, our first class chef, he aint no joke..."

Rob laughed, patting him on the shoulder.

"I gotta' bad ass spliff for you amigo," Armando said, smiling slyly.

"Thanks Army, it will have to wait until after we close. We have special guests onboard tonight.

Miguel agreed. "Si si. Señor George chewed us out bad the last time they were here. He says we don't cook eet right. He says we're too slow. He says my desserts suck too."

Rob slapped him on the back.

"No sweat amigo. I am cooking tonight, and you are manning the pass. No... wait, Micah is manning the pass. You and I will cook. Can you handle that Micah?" Rob asked teasingly.

With a smirk, Micah replied. "No big deal to me. Less burns on my beautiful youthful skin."

Rob laughed. "Yeah yeah yeah, you're so fucking pretty with your flowing long hair. Get ready to work your narrow ass off hippie. You'll be the last to see the plates before they hit table. Anything returned is your problem. I expect zero mistakes tonight. Zero!"

Miguel clapped his hands hard. "That's my amigo! Chef Rob, here only a minute and already on our ass."

By the time the kitchen was to Rob's acceptance, the orders started coming in. Micah called them out half-heartedly.

"Uh let's see... a rib rack, a filet rare, a cod and a... another rib, make that two ribs."

Turning from the grill, Rob stared at him with a dead still scowl.

"What the hell was that? 'A rib rack, and another rib rack, make that two...' Are you trying to screw us up already?"

Micah shrugged embarrassed.

"Try it again hippie," Rob barked back.

Like an angry drill sergeant, he spoke loudly at Micah's face with authority. "It goes like this... One rib! One filet bloody! One cod! One rib! Two ribs all day!"

Micah called it back as Rob instructed, nodding his head at the end, as if to say, 'I get it now.'

As Miguel covered the grill with sizzling meat, Rob stepped away to prep his desserts. He felt a renewed sense of pride in his art. He took the time to make certain every aspect of the preparation was to perfection. He didn't know who George's guests were, but tonight, they would dine like kings.

Taking out his knives, Rob began trimming a pretty piece of beef. His eyes focused on the knife's slice. The special cut rib eyes were going to be soothed in a sauce from the marrow of the roasted bone. After the trimming was done, his sharp blade delicately transformed carrots into rose petals, placing them beside fresh zucchini blossoms. The bright yellow blooming beauties would look stunning against the dark rich sauce. The delicately flower-decorated food he'd seen in Vietnam was already influencing him, encouraging him to add an extra dash of colorful art onto every plate.

The big Hobart mixer slowly spun Rob's secret recipe filling for his fried cheesecake dessert that had been such a hit. Scraping long vanilla beans into the mix as it turned, Rob could smell the mixture come alive as the bean pulp was beat in.

Micah called out from the pass loudly. "Chef! More orders."

Rob switched off the mixer, stored the bowl in the frigid walk-in then dashed to line to help Miguel. Micah called out the new orders with authority now.

"One crab app, one shrimp, one cod, one cod, one filet bloody and one rib!" Two cod all day!

Rob confirmed with a respectful call back, as did Miguel. Micah smiled with satisfaction as he arranged the new tickets.

Order after order stacked up along the ticket rail. By six thirty, four feet of yellow tickets hung on the line, fluttering from the fan. Rob's team was in a new groove thanks to his guidance. Knocking the orders out with amazing speed and timing, even the servers commented on the flow.

"Good to have you back baby!" Heather yelled out to Rob behind the line. "Food has never come out so fast, and it looks so good too!"

Charley however, never even offered a 'Hello'. Walking up to the line, reading her phone, she spoke out to Rob without looking up.

"George wants the party's food to be perfect. So don't fuck it up, and don't let it slow down the other orders either."

Without another word, she silently walked away, never once looking up from her phone.

Miguel looked at Rob with a smirk over her attitude. He backed away from the grill as it flamed high. Laughing, Miguel shook his head.

"I love that Charley. There's nobody I'd rather smack," he said.

Rob looked over with a wink at his comment.

"You know you want her. Admit it Miguel, you want her bad don't you?" Rob teased.

Miguel shrugged. "Si, if she wants to give eet up, I will give her a ride on this Mexican Stallion," he said as made a riding motion, whipping his meat tongs against his hip.

Rob laughed at the sight of it causing Micah to laugh and Miguel to laugh louder.

Reaching to push the swinging door open, Charley heard the crew laughing loudly as they looked her way. Turning quickly, she shot them a cross face.

"What the hell are you guys laughing about now?"

Rob stopped laughing and smiled.

"We were just talking about you and Miguel getting a few drinks after work and going back to his place..." he replied.

Miguel made kissing motions as he spoke sexy words to her in Spanish.

Charley snarled her lip as she turned back to the swinging door. "God you guys are so disgusting."

The line burst out loud with laughter again just as the swinging doors closed behind her. The evening was off to good start. Spirits were high throughout The Ship for everyone, everyone except Charley.

George looked at his watch. His party would be arriving any minute. He walked around the tables with intense scrutiny. Inspecting the carpet, the linens, the glassware and silverware, he found everything perfect. Ellen was silently buffing extra silverware, wine and water glasses, stacking them on a nearby vacant table in case they may be needed. George looked at the extras with a smiling nod of approval.

"Very good. Very good indeed. I see why your coworkers praise your professionalism. Miss Ellen, you say very little. But your quiet actions give me much confidence. These tables look excellent, and I see you are well prepared as well."

Ellen looked over the tables, then at George.

"I'm not sure I deserve any praise. The tables look just as they should on any given day. They are all supposed to look this way for every customer. Who wants to sit on a seat with crumbs? Or put fingerprint-smudged glasses against their lips, or water spotted silverware in their mouths? I didn't train at an Olive Garden. I've worked fine dining since college."

Sliding an arm around her, George thanked her with a quick pat on the shoulder.

"And I am very appreciative that you have. I am also very appreciative to have you here with us again."

Ellen smiled. She already liked working for George. She had never liked any restaurant owner before. Ellen didn't know who George was. But he was definitely different than any owner she had ever met in the past. Plus, he had saved not just her life, but Rob's and Maria's as well by sending The Unknown Caller to their rescue in Vietnam. Feeling confident about her new job, her budding new romance, her newfound sister, and her mysterious but gracious new employer, Ellen's spirits were soaring.
Chapter 3

The reflection of The Good Ship rippled on the rolling waves under the light of the shining moon. Like black liquid night, the water danced, swirling around The Ship as the diners onboard indulged in Chef Rob's creations. The Harden Restaurant Group party pulled into the valet entrance in a Cadillac rental car. Walking to the gangplank, the smiling CEO's eyes scanned the glittering riverfront as he got his first look at The Good Ship Cincinnati. Under the moonlight, the water sparkled, shimmering with lights from the boat along its edge. He was instantly impressed.

"Damn nice location," he thought to himself as he scanned the serene scene.

George had instructed the hostess to seat the Harden party immediately on arrival and alert Ellen the second she sat them. As the party walked into the lobby, the young hostess showed them to their waiting table with an extra exuberant smile. Ellen was made aware immediately. Casually, she walked to their table just as she would have any other.

"Hello Mr..." she said as she walked up to the CEO's side.

Looking up, he nodded in response.

"Mitchell. Dan Mitchell how do you do?"

Ellen shook his hand. "Great! I am Ellen and I will be serving you tonight. Would you care for a cocktail as you get settled in?"

Dan smiled and nodded. "You betchya'. What kind of bourbon do you have in stock?"

Ellen asked Jules about all the top liquors earlier, making sure she memorized the best labels.

"We can offer you a Basil Hayden, Pappy Van Winkle, Four Roses, or a Jefferson's Presidential..."

He looked pleased. "A Basil Hayden will do just fine. Neat, with a lemon wedge water back please."

Immediately Ellen knew how this night would play out. She knew from experience, anyone who ordered a drink that specific, that expensive, without asking the price, was used to drinking well, often in excess and with no concern for the bill. With seven other diners in the party, the table's bar tab alone could reach several hundred dollars. Just then, she remembered George's tip. In an instant she relaxed. Subtly pushing up her table's sales was a practiced instinct, but tonight she had no need.

It was just before eight when the rest of the party's diners arrived. They sat in hierarchy to the CEO. From highest to lowest on the company totem pole, they took their seats, each knowing their place. The only two women at the table sat at the far end from Dan, Kim and Peg.

Kim was a forty eight year old lifer in the Harden Corporation. She had slaved through thousands of long hours and endless weekends selling her soul to climb past one pay grade after another. Never marrying, let alone having kids, she was willing to sacrifice her private life for this fast paced career. Now, after a decade of opening new locations across the country, she was ready to settle down and manage her own store. The suits in the top floor boardrooms had their three hundred dollar ink pens poised to give her the opportunity as well.

Kim's job was to get the staff at new locations trained and ready for the opening. It was no secret she was hoping this Cincinnati store would be trusted to her as the permanent manager. Unlike all the corporate locations, The Good Ship was a mere 36 miles from her parents and family. Her years on the road had been rewarding, but what she really wanted now was to settle down in Cincinnati. As she looked out across the sparkling river view, she was giddy with the prospect of becoming Captain of the Ship. Of all the Harden locations, this one would be the most beautiful by far.

Leaning close to Peg, Kim quietly mentioned her interest in The Ship. Peg was a cropped-haired stocky woman. The kind you wouldn't dare bet against in a bar fight. Her one and only fifty-three dollar Kohl's fashion dress didn't come close to hiding her masculinity. She wore it with all the grace and poise of a shower curtain draped over a charging Rhino. Her last minute decision to don heeled dress shoes for the special occasion caused her to walk like a sparring boxer, tipping forward on fast toes, lurching towards her foe with clenched fists.

Hearing Peg speak to Kim using service industry lingo, Ellen quietly eavesdropped. Within a minute she knew they were in the business. Glancing at Peg as she finished taking orders, Ellen knew with one look, this woman was 179 pounds of tough as nails lesbian pride. She didn't doubt Peg's professional prowess in the least neither. She had worked with this type of pit bull professional in the past. She imagined Peg could be a fearsome foe, or a life saving ally, depending on her perception of your worthiness in the midst of a full on in-the-weeds Saturday night slam. Instantly, Ellen respected her.

Peg was hacking her way up the corporate ladder the hard way. She out-cooked and out managed every man she had ever worked with. Corporate head honchos respected her for her no nonsense domineering demeanor. They callously exploited her drive, talent and relentless rigor in order to whip their kitchens into shape. New York, St Louis, Memphis, Atlanta, San Francisco, Portland, Dallas, Chicago, and lastly Las Vegas openings were her most recent badges of honor.

Peg's past ten years in the Harden Group had been a blur of one hundred hour workweeks and heated employee battles. She feared nothing and no one, and it showed in the piercing glare of her hard brown eyes. She came in first, left last and dared anyone to challenge her on anything. Her life was a never-ending string of early morning openings lasting into late night closings. Aside from a two-week vacation each year, her only personal time was spent collapsing onto a cheap motel bed between double shifts.

Every new store purchase required Peg to be present. Her high salaried masters knew she would get their next new kitchen adhering to their strict corporate standards quickly, no matter the cost to Peg or her fleeting long distance relationships. She didn't share Kim's enthusiasm about the potential purchase of The Ship. To Peg, The Good Ship Cincinnati was just another no-name stop along the ride to an 88k management position in the corporate offices.

Walking to the bar, Ellen retrieved the table's drinks. A quick tempo flowed from the lounge. George had hired a jazz band in her absence. The band clicked out a cool cover of "Take Five". The tapping snare drum set the momentum for the servers.

"This is great. I wonder why we never had band before," Ellen said to Jules as she stopped to listen to the tune.

"Because Ralph's cheap ass wouldn't dream of paying for one that's why," Jules replied with a smirk. "It's working great too. The bar has been packed from open to close for days. George is kinda' odd, but he is making good improvements. He even comped' like half the house the other night," she said, shaking a martini.

Hearing of the massive comp, Ellen scowled. "Really? Why?" she asked.

Jules leaned closer, whispering. "We got hit really hard last Wednesday. The kitchen crashed causing the dining room to break down in a near riot. People were ready to walk out. Charley wouldn't remove shit off the tickets and the servers freaked out. They started yelling and George rushed over, cursing Charley out. He told her to comp any check a guest complained about. Everything. I heard it was in the thousands."

Raising her eyebrows in disbelief, Ellen was surprised. "Wow that's crazy. Seriously? George comped' every table that complained period, no questions asked?"

Jules nodded as she filled a glass with ice.

"It didn't bother me," Jules said, pouring a drink. "I've never made more money. I'm walking with three to four hundred a night since he took over."

Ellen looked at her with a gasp. "Four hundred! Come on," she replied in disbelief.

Shaking her head as she made Ellen's drinks, Jules continued.

"I'm telling you Elle', it's true. I don't know how in the hell I make so much money since George took over. I'm not complaining. I'm just rollin' with it while I can," Jules said as she shook a tumbler, pouring a frothy pink drink into the glass of ice. Dropping in a squeezed lime, she walked away with a sly smile.

Stacking the VIP table's appetizers in the window gently, Rob plated them as if they were compressed nitroglycerin, ready to explode with the slightest bump. Heather squeezed a plate past them, making room to slide out her fish order. Rob yelled as he pushed it back into place.

"Don't move the plates Heather! Just wait to be called, and take what I give you. These are not for you anyway, yours are still working."

Shooting him a glare, Heather walked back out empty-handed. Ellen passed her through the swinging doors.

"Ellen! Eight apps for the VIP table," Rob yelled as he pushed the plates together.

"Jesus Rob. I'm coming already," Ellen shot back, as she pulled the plates away.

Rob apologized. "I'm sorry. I just want them to get out quickly before the sauce skins."

Ellen stacked six plates along one arm, holding the last two with her free hand. Rob smiled nervously as she turned away with a wink. Smiling at him, she backed into the swinging doors. Turning her body, she spun around past the slamming steel door a half second before it crashed into the plates, swinging the load away just before the door caused a disastrous crash. Though he'd seen servers do it a thousand times before, Rob rubbed his head in nervous anguish at the site of it.

The guests stopped speaking abruptly as the appetizers touched down on the table. Each small plate presented to the diners what looked like a large but simple chicken wing, sitting in a wide brush swipe of bright red sauce. A spiral cut green onion sprang across its top.

"Chicken wings?" The CEO asked with concern.

"A chicken... wing," Peg corrected.

"Kinda' cheap for place like this," the man on the CEO's right laughed.

"Oh well, it had better be the best damn wing I've ever had," Dan replied as he picked it up.

"What the?" Dan asked, pausing after his first taste of the wing.

Inspected it closely with squinting eyes; he looked at the wing curiously. What looked like a chicken wing was in reality finely ground shrimp and scallop. Shaped and molded over a crisp asparagus stalk, it mimicked a wing perfectly. The faux wing featured a golden breading of rice flour, fried to perfection. What looked like buffalo sauce was actually a sauce of reduced red grapefruit juice and molasses, seasoned with a spice no one at the table could identify.

Their eye's focused on the treat and their tongue sang out with flavor as the diners in turn sank their teeth into the luscious treat.

"My God this is good!" Dan said as he continued chewing into Rob's illusion. Everyone at the table agreed, the dish was amazing.

"I can't believe this... I really thought it was a big chicken wing," Kim said with excitement.

Me too," Dan replied. "I was thinking, 'okay... what the hell is this? I thought a talented chef was serving us... Then I see this simple chicken wing on my plate, a single wing no less. I was certain someone had slipped his or her mind behind the line. Then I bit into it and wow!"

"This isn't fine dining... this is surprise dining," the man on his right said as he nodded at his plate.

Kim agreed. "It's a refreshing surprise. I went from disappointed at first site, to ecstatic in one bite. It's very unique. I have to admit, I never expected this."

Closing her eyes, Kim savored her dish. Peg had not even tasted Rob's creation as she watched her companion's expressions. Picking her treat into small pieces, she dissected the praised appetizer before her. Pulling away the breading, she studied the faux wing's contents, not even bothering to take a taste until it was a pile of shreds.

"It's actually very simple," Peg commented. "It's just a ground seafood mix pressed into shape over an asparagus stalk. I'm not sure what the binder ingredient is but the technique is excellent I must admit. The golden brown color and the perfect shape really fool you. It's not a Penko breading, but something lighter... It's not tempura either... This takes some real skill to prep, but it's easy if you know the recipe and technique."

Peg tasted the sauce several times, desperate to discover and define the secret spice. "I think it's..."

Shooting Peg an aggravated look, Kim cut her off.

"Jesus Peg," she said laughing. "Can't you for once, just eat it and enjoy?"

Peg issued a smirk Kim's way. "It is pretty cool I suppose. And with this size of portion, it's certainly profitable. We could easily tweak this recipe and package these for retail store sale. They would freeze and reheat well."

The CEO listened as he chewed. "Well, I can tell you one thing. I've dined all over the country and I have never seen one of these. It's damn good too. It's like a sweet & spicy shrimp cake on a stick. A stick you can eat!"

The man on his right agreed. "I love it too. The look, the taste, we can re-formulate this in our test kitchen. I could market the hell out of this before another company copies it. As Peg said, package and freeze them for retail grocery sale. I bet they would sell like mad during football season."

Ellen listened as the table raved on about Rob's creation. She knew now that they were all in the restaurant business. Walking back to the kitchen, she passed along the compliments.

"They loved it. I mean they really loved it," she explained to Rob. "They talked about it long after it was gone off their plate. They said they could copy it and sell frozen ones in stores."

Rob shot her a curious scowl. "Frozen ones? Why? Who were these people?" he wondered aloud.

"I don't know. So... What's next Chef?" Ellen replied.

Hunching over a brightly lit table, Rob worked carefully.

"Three minutes, then, the next course, Wild Caught Salmon with a twist."

Ellen watched in curious wonder. With three minutes to spare, she checked back on the table.

"Another cocktail before the next course?" she asked with enthusiasm.

The CEO wiped his lips on the bright white linen.

"Yes of course. Another... ah... Another Basil for me and whatever they are having as well."

Ellen smiled as she carried off the empty plates, heading to the bar to fetch the drinks.

Jules was delighted at the price of the drinks Ellen was ringing in. She paused the customer refills to make Ellen's order.

"You keep it coming girl! This is big money booze. You will make some dough off that table tonight. After work, you should come party with us again."

Ellen laughed. "George already tipped me for them. Here take this fifty."

Jules smiled back genuinely as she took the cash. "Thanks, Elle' so are you coming out with us or what? You should come. I'm buying."

"I don't think I will be partying tonight. I have my sister waiting at my house. She just arrived here from Vietnam," Ellen replied.

Jules shot her a confused look as she poured the pricey bourbon. "Vietnam? Your sister? I didn't know you had sister from Vietnam."

Ellen sighed. "It's a long story, but a good one. I will tell you all about it sometime." Taking the drinks, she shuffled off to the table.

After serving the drinks, Ellen headed to the kitchen. She strained to listen as the jazz band began playing the theme to the Charlie Brown's Peanuts. It lightened the mood perfectly. Rob handed Ellen the next course of plates one at a time.

She looked at them with confusion, then back at Rob with a scowl. "Are you sure this is right?"

Rob nodded with sly smile. "Just take it. Stick close to the table until they taste it. I want to know what they say."

Shrugging, she stacked the plates on her arm. Nervously, she placed them in front of the diners. They looked at the plate with eyes in wonder. The CEO was first to speak.

"Dessert? We haven't even had our meal yet," Dan said under his breath.

Looking up at Ellen, he shook his head.

"Fudge cake after the appetizer? That wing was great but you folks still have a few things to figure out if you ask me."

Ellen didn't say a word. She stood speechless, polishing a wine glass at a vacant table as an excuse to listen to their reactions.

Kim took the first bite. "Oh my god! It's spicy... It's so flavorful..."

The man on the Dan's right spoke up in surprise as he sampled his dish as well.

"It's salmon! Perfectly cut squares of thick salmon filet. Covered in some type of a Mexican Mole sauce. This cherry on top is some kind of pepper, this is amazing."

The table went silent as they dug into their unique fish dishes. Ellen beamed with pride as she finished pretending to polish the wine glasses. Rob had amazed them again.

The CEO turned to Ellen. "This is just unbelievable. This cream on the top, is that just sour cream?"

Ellen had no idea. Luckily, Peg interrupted before she had to answer. "It's not sour cream," she said, tasting it slowly, trying to discover the secret of the flavors.

Suddenly an unknown voice spoke up from the behind the table.

"You are correct Miss, it is not sour cream."

All eyes turned to see who was speaking. Rob moved closer to the table, smiling over their shoulders.

"It's Greek Yogurt, infused with essence of smoked Thai chili and palm sugar. What appears to be a cherry on top is actually a Guatemalan cherry pepper, marinated in white wine."

The diners nodded towards him as their mouths savored the food.

"Hello folks, I am Chef Rob Anderson. I hope you are enjoying my little illusion. How is your experience going so far tonight?" he asked with a smile.

The CEO pushed back his chair. Standing, he reached to shake Rob's hand.

"Damn delicious, a true marvel to the senses. I cannot wait to see what's next."

Rob assured him he would discover more surprises before the night was over. Kim eyed Rob all too friendly many times over. She whispered something to Peg with a smile, causing her to giggle. Kim continued to study him intently as Rob turned back to the kitchen.

Thanking the guests, Rob walked back to the kitchen, Ellen followed hurriedly.

"You got em' on the edge of their seats. They love the food. I just hope you know what you're doing."

Rob shot her a look. "What does that mean?"

Ellen looked around. Seeing no one near, she leaned in and whispered.

"They are talking like they are thinking of buying this place."

Rob shot her a scowl. "What?" he asked, staring at her.

Ellen leaned closer, whispering quieter.

"I heard them talking about The Ship. 'This is a really great location... There is room for more seating if the dining room was re-done.' One of them said something about a 'Head Office.' Stuff like that. It sounded as if they are from a big company thinking of buying The Ship."

Rob looked at her with eyebrows raised high.

"So that's why this party is so important to George. That bastard. He's using us to impress his buyers. If a corporate chain buys this place, we will lose our jobs."

Watching Rob's face wrinkle with worry, Ellen nudged an elbow into his side.

"Don't be so negative. Why would they want to fire the Chef that has impressed them so much? They said they want to sell those shrimp wings in stores. You never know, maybe a big company will be better to work for. They damn sure would be better than Ralph."

Rob grabbed her arm. "Ellen, any time corporate owners take over, they change everything. They bring their own crew, and their own menu. They make everyone do things exactly as they say and they always serve frozen crap. They will never pay us what we make now. Trust me, corporate restaurant chains are never good to work for, never."

Shaking his head upset, he walked back behind the line.

Bussing the salmon plates, Ellen pondered Rob's concerns. Watching the faces, she wondered, "Would they cast us off?" She listened intently as the diners talked about marketing and advertising the new location. There was no doubt. These people were sizing up The Ship for a purchase. George had indeed sold them out. Without any warning to the crew, he was pitching The Ship to these people, and using Rob and Ellen's talent to sell the deal.

Despite his concerns, Rob cooked as if he was cooking for the President. With full freedom from George to create anything he wanted, he used his fullest imagination and skill. Every cutting edge technique he knew went into the plates. Dish after dish, the diners were all amazed.

After the last entrée plates were served, the party was well fed and slightly soused to boot. Ellen noticed their conversation as the liquor was consumed. As she cleared the table, she listened to them talking with attentive ears.

"Has the appraiser finished his report?" Dan asked his right hand man.

Now, she knew for certain they were interested in purchasing The Ship. Bussing the plates, she jogged back to the kitchen. Rob placed his signature cheesecake dishes in the pass window. Ellen smiled as she stacked them on her arm.

At the table, the diners turned her way as she stopped tableside with the desserts. "This is another Chef Anderson signature dish. It's one my personal favorites and George's as well. I am certain you are going to love it," she said as the desserts were placed before them.

Again the table went silent.

"What is this interesting creation?" the CEO asked.

Ellen leaned towards him, speaking softly. "A globe of fresh French vanilla bean cheesecake with a warm blueberry center, surrounded by a light batter. Tonight's version is resting on a slow simmered cherry and black raspberry reduction, garnished with a spice infused caramel honey glaze and a fresh mint leaf. The mint is grown here on our deck."

Dan looked at her with the excited eyes of child on Christmas morning.

"That all sounds too good to be true," he said, staring at the plate.

Ellen smiled back at him. "It is too good to be true, but yet there it is, for you to enjoy," she replied, smiling.

George had been intentionally avoiding the table. Glancing from a distance, he had kept a watchful on his guests while staying inconspicuous. Now, as the diners eyed their dessert, George made his entrance to the table.

"Ah! My friends. I hope our humble offerings have pleased you," he said in his usual grand fashion.

The CEO turned towards him. "George your Chef Rob has us all impressed, even Peg, and that's a task. You have a real talent behind the line and a very fine place here. This food is unique and amazing, but I doubt you could pull this menu off consistently if your Chef ever left you."

George nodded. "He is indeed talented. But I do not fear losing him to any other employer."

Dan shrugged as if he disagreed. Changing the subject, he turned back to George with a serious look. "At first I was put off by the asking price. But now that I am here in person I must admit I do see the value in this location. It has so many desirable amenities to offer. The best view in the city too no doubt. I am not hesitant to admit we are very interested in adding The Good Ship to our fleet."

George felt a rush of excitement. The expensive effort to return Rob and Ellen had paid off.

"But of course," he replied. "Many would sacrifice their first born to enjoy the benefits of owning such a wonderful restaurant. It is one of a kind. I often sit on the deck, enjoying a good cigar, basking in the wonderful feeling of what a treasure I have here. This is the best location one could hope for in this city."

The CEO nodded in agreement. "Running and enjoying the success of a single restaurant is one thing. Branding it, marketing it, and spreading the name across the country is quite another."

Nodding in attention, George listened without interruption. He knew well how to allow a prospective buyer talk himself into committing to a purchase, rather than attempt to convince him into one. Taking a seat next to Dan, he feigned intense interest as the executive continued on.

"Look, you've got a great thing going here with this location George. Of all the real estate in Cincinnati, this has to be the most impressive view, that alone draws diners in. Being situated between the ballpark and the stadium... it doesn't get any better. And the food... Don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate your unique menu, it's amazing for certain. But, food like this is nearly impossible to replicate consistently. And it relies too heavily on a high paid, well-trained Chef to pull it off. You have to remember; talented Chef's like Anderson are always looking to open a place of their own. Someday, he will move on, and where will that leave you? Starting over, that's where."

George rubbed his chin, nodding in reflective agreement.

Dan watched George's expression with satisfaction. He felt he was succeeding in coaxing George to sell now before Rob left him.

"Like I said, don't get me wrong, if I lived nearby, I would dine here regularly for certain, while it lasted anyway. You see George..." the CEO said as he relaxed back in his chair. "At Harden, we have a long term business strategy. We have built a brand name by offering customers consistency, no matter what city or state they are in. When they dine in a Harden Group restaurant, the experience is always exactly the same. The key to our growth and branding is in our ability to replicate our menu and methods to a tee. We have done it time and time again in a hundreds of strategically placed venues from coast to coast."

George nodded with eyebrows high as the Dan's right hand man spoke up.

"We are hoping to open in the Cincinnati market very soon, preferably one with a capable staff in place. That's why we are looking into your location. As with all purchases, we need to see the traffic flow, the day to day history of the potential purchase."

Dan nodded along in agreement as he sipped his drink.

George turned his silent attention to Dan as he interrupted.

"The profit and loss statements tell us how much local customers are willing to spend, what they purchase and how well our concept fits into the area. There is much more to consider than just the building and location. Of course this is a unique venue, but we need to understand the reality of the customer base, the price point and expectations of a potential purchase.

We don't want to open in a property, no matter how nice it is, if the local customers can't support us. Nor in one that is too saturated with similar competitors struggling to compete for a small share of the local traffic. And, the one thing we never do, is consider a location that is failing. It's too much of a stigma. The memory of failure often stays with the locals for long after the prior failed venture closes. It taints the property forever in some cases. That's why we base our decision in large part on the profit and loss statement. Your P&L will tell us all we need to know."

Taking his cue to interject, George stood up, resting a hand on each of the men's shoulders.

"Gentlemen. I envy you of your resources and expertise. I am just a simple investor. I'm not an expert in this business as you are. I bought this beautiful place merely as an investment. I knew prior to owning her Chef Rob was stifled. After I took over, I cut him loose and now he creates wonderful meals such as the one you experienced tonight.

Together, he and I have breathed new life into this fine vessel. The profits are growing more quickly than I ever expected. I greatly enjoy my ownership, yet I am open to discuss selling The Ship. But only if I am offered a fair price of course. I will transfer ownership to you for no less than 15 million dollars. It is worth more I am certain. However, I have pressing personal business in my home country that requires my attention. If I am to sell, I must do it quickly in order to return home in time to manage my affairs there. Otherwise it would serve no purpose for me to sell at all."

Dan shot a concerned glance at his right hand man as George continued.

"I hate to see it go so soon. I would prefer to keep it for many years to come. No doubt I would earn ten-fold the return than if I were to sell so quickly after it has just come into my hands. If it were not for my pressing business back home, I would dismiss any notion of selling... I still feel it is a true gem of an investment. There is nothing else quite like it in this entire city you know. Anyone can see that simply by its popularity."

The table's attention was directed to the bustling dining room as George waved his hand towards the crowd of customers.

George silently waited for their reply. The table sat silent until the CEO spoke up.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush haggling George. We have already researched the value. Our appraiser came in at 13.5 million. I will agree to that price, but that's tops. That is, assuming your P&L reflects the level of excitement your food does... If the P&L checks out, and you agree to the 13.5, you've got a deal. After the contract is signed, we can close in thirty days."

George shook his head. "I would settle for your price if you act quickly. However, thirty days might as well be thirty years. A month from now is no good to me. I need to leave for home next week. It must be settled before I depart," George said as he sipped his drink.

Pausing to gauge their reaction, George sat silent. Seeing they were in serious consideration, in a last effort, he pushed them harder to commit to his plan.

"I have other investors to consider as well. They are very excited about the handsome return they have seen already. If I return with a lump sum as their final payoff, they will be satisfied. If I do not sell quickly, and the profits continue to rapidly grow as they are now, they will no doubt insist they remain involved, or at minimum, raise the selling price. It will be out of my control at that point."

Pausing again to test their resolve, George watched them glance back and forth with a nervous look at one another.

"On the other hand, if you act quickly, and I can return to them with a sizeable profit in hand to offer... With me back at home and no longer able to secure their investment in person here, they will not regret that I sold out and have no further interest in the matter. So you see, time is of the essence."

Staring at his right hand man, the CEO nervously tapped his finger on the table. It was the tell George had been waiting for. Relaxed, he pressed him one final time.

"So gentlemen, assuming you are capable of closing in a week, for 13.5 million. I can safely assure you we have a deal. If not... I thank you for your interest nonetheless."

George shot a glance across the room, holding up a hushing gesture to some imaginary person with a nod as if to say "I will be with you in just a minute." Acting as if he was losing interest in the conversation, he finished his play to push the CEO into action.

Dan noticed George's fading interest.

"Get me that P&L George. Mark, our CFO will look over it right away. If he says go, we go. You will get your funds quickly. I will make every effort to expedite it as fast as possible."

George beamed inside with pride as he shook Dan's hand.

"If I may be so bold, I can assure you, you will be most impressed with our numbers."

Dan nodded at his right hand man with satisfaction.

"I hope Mark agrees, I really like this place. It will save us a lot of time in our search for a suitable property. Your staff impresses us as well. Getting good people is a real bonus. The board will be very pleased if we can move up our Cincinnati opening ahead of schedule."

George nodded. "I will have Charley print the report as you finish your drinks. You will have it when you are ready to leave."

With a quick nod and a smile, he walked away to the office.

Returning a few minutes later, he met the party as they stood up ready to leave. They exchanged polite goodbyes as George walked them to the door. Handing over the doctored reports in a file folder, he pressed the CEO for a commitment date.

"Can you meet with me tomorrow to finalize the contract?" George asked, as he handed Dan the thick report.

The right hand man took it as Dan shook George's hand.

"I will email these to Mark tonight, If he says it's a go, we will meet you at our attorney's office. Tomorrow I will call and let you know if we are set to sign the deal or not. I have high hopes George, but Mark has the final say, every purchase goes through him. I need his approval before committing to anything."

George smiled. The group walked away talking amongst themselves.

Waving goodbye as he lit a big cigar, George watched their Cadillac disappear into the night. Leaning on the railing, he looked calm and collected on the outside. Inside, he was filled with pride and elation. He knew his doctored reports matched his bank statements perfectly. They would be impressive to anyone reading them. The expensive effort it took to retrieve Rob and Ellen had paid off. Rob's talent and Ellen's professional poise had helped to impress the group beyond George's expectations. The first important aspect of his scam was coming to pass just as he had planned.
Chapter 4

After The Ship closed, Rob and Ellen headed home as couple for the first time. Ellen stopped him in the hall before going up the stairs. Standing in the hallway, she pulled him close.

"I'm so glad to finally be home but now I almost don't want to go upstairs," Ellen said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Why?" Rob asked. "I'm so ready to crash I'm about to fall asleep here in the hallway. We haven't slept in a proper bed in two days."

Ellen rubbed his back as she hugged him.

"I know. I'm about to fall asleep in your arms. But if we go in, we will go to bed, you will be right beside me... and I will want you to..."

Rob realized what she was thinking. "I was really looking forward to that. It sounds like the perfect ending to this crazy day to me."

Ellen sighed. "Me too, but Maria is here. I can't do that with her right in the next room. She might hear us and I... I just can't."

Rubbing her back in a hug, Rob embraced her tightly. He wanted her as bad as she wanted him. Spending the night so close to her in bed without being able to feel her would be too hard to bear. Looking up and down the hall, he saw no one near. Pushing her against the wall, he kissed her hard. With one hand on her cheek he kissed her, his other hand slid down the front of her pants.

She moaned with a gasp as his fingers found her womanhood. Her passion was burning too hot for her to ignore. Easing his fingers down deeper, her rubbed her growing heat with slow circles. Her moan got louder. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes. He felt her heat grow hotter as he rubbed. Her breath quickened as she melted from his touch in the empty hallway. Pulling his hand out, he tugged at the top button on her cotton work pants. She opened her eyes wide in nervous anxiety.

"No! Rob! We can't... not here! Someone will see."

He said nothing in reply except to whisper in her ear "Shhh... "

The emotions were too hot to stop. She felt his breath against her neck, the feeling sent her desire into overdrive. As he tugged on her black pants, she gave in to her intense emotions. Slowly, he eased her waistband down. Before she could think to stop him, Rob pulled her pants to her knees in one quick snap. Feeling the air on her naked legs, she panicked.

"Jesus Rob! We can't do this here... We're in the hallway. But I want you so bad..."

Not stopping, Rob slid her pants down to her shoes. Standing still, she surrendered to his relentlessness. Sliding her pants down, on his knees he moved close to her heat. Kissing her womanhood through her thin panties, he could feel her body stiffen as his lips found her most sensitive spot. Ellen moaned again as he pulled her panties aside. Sliding a finger into her burning center, he licked and kissed her wetness.

Looking up at her face, Rob noticed her clinch her eyes tight. Tugging her thin panties down to her shoes, he fully exposed her bare womanhood. Rob gazed at his prize in lust for a quick second before moving between her thighs.

Sliding her arms down from around his neck to his back, she didn't care about being in the hallway any longer. Her thoughts were locked into his eyes and the intense feelings building up inside her. Parting her legs, he moved into place. She heard him softly gasp as he slid into her warmth. Biting her ear gently but firm enough to make her take notice, he held her tight as the sensations of her heat filled him with even hotter desire.

"Oh God Rob.... I'm.... I'm... Oh God," she whispered as he began to thrust hard.

Her words urged him to pick up his pace. Opening her eyes, she stared at him in a blur of burning passion.

"Don't go slow... C'mon Rob. I want you to..."

He knew had to hurry, and he knew what she wanted. Leaning into her, he pushed in deeper. She shivered in pleasure as his pace grew faster. Wrapping both arms under her legs, he pulled her knees up in an effort to gain even deeper entry, Rob strained to hold her thighs back as his thrusts became harder.

As the intense sensation between her legs finally let loose, she cried out with a whimper. Her sounds sent him over the edge. With three final thrusts, he paused inside her. Holding her pushed against the wall, he pulsed deep in her womb. She could feel his every twitch. It soothed her instantly.

Leaning on her heaving breasts, he eased her feet back to the floor. As he lightly pecked her neck with kisses, she woke from her orgasmic blur. Coming to her senses, she felt a sudden fear over her potentially embarrassing situation.

"Hurry! C'mon' we have to put our pants back on, before someone sees," Ellen said, tapping Rob's shoulders quickly with both hands.

Rob pulled his pants back up with a laugh. Ellen reached down for hers in fearful realization that she was now standing in the hallway half nude.

Quickly tugging her pants back over her waist, she felt her panties wedged in one pant leg. Straightening her clothes, she caught her breath as she nervously glanced around to be sure no one was near. Laughing at their brazenness, she turned to Rob with giggle.

Upstairs, Ellen turned her key in the lock. As they walked into the apartment they saw Maria leaning forward on the sofa, her feet propped on the coffee table's edge. A fashion magazine was laid out, opened to a full-page photo of a model's bare pedicured feet.

Smiling, Maria looked up, then continued painting her toe nails with careful strokes, trying to copy the glossy photo as best as she could. The entire apartment had been cleaned and organized. It looked better than Ellen had ever remembered. Following his nose, Rob stepped into the kitchen. Taking the lid off a simmering pot, the intoxicating aroma of Vietnamese Hot Pot broth wafted out in the steam.

Rob watched with a smile as Ellen sat close to Maria, smiling from ear to ear as they joyfully talked about her day. Saying goodnight, he disappeared into Ellen's bedroom. Shortly after, she came in, curling up beside him. They cuddled under warm covers in a calming silence.

They were all together now. The last time Ellen slept in this room, she was filled with nothing but pain and sorrow. Now, nestled under her covers with Rob, her apartment felt like a true home again. It was a feeling so satisfying it soothed her very soul.

As her mind began to slip into a dream, she knew the reason why she felt so content - the love that was once alive in these rooms had returned. The feeling of being surrounded by family once again filled her with peace as she drifted to sleep.
Chapter 5

Rob woke just after dawn. Maria had already been awake for hours earlier. The entire apartment was hospital clean. As he walked into the hall, rubbing his eyes, Rob found Maria in the kitchen mixing eggs in a bowl. He watched with interest as she added peas and chopped carrots from Ellen's freezer into the bowl. Pouring it into a large skillet of oil, it sizzled into shape in seconds. She had a several piled on a plate, waiting for Rob and Ellen for when they awoke.

Thanking her, he forked one onto a saucer. Maria offered him a dark sauce from a coffee cup. He drizzled it over the still steaming hot dish.

"Man! That's the best Egg Foo Yung I have ever tasted, that sauce really makes it sing," he said after his first bite.

Maria looked puzzled. "What's that you say? Egg Foo Yunk?"

Rob was surprised she had never heard the name before.

"I guess that name is a Chinese thing. They serve a greasy crap version of this dish in Chinese restaurants called Egg Foo Yung."

Maria nodded, still unclear what he was talking about. Rob forked more of the dish into his hungry lips.

"Wow! This sauce is great. How did you make that?" he asked, pointing to the coffee cup.

Maria showed him a pile of empty soy sauce packets she found in a cabinet from some long forgotten Chinese take-out order. She had scrounged them in an effort to make some facsimile of her authentic dish. With the soy packets, she added honey, A-1 sauce and other scavenged spices she found in the cabinets. Savoring his breakfast, Rob wished he could get Maria into a pro kitchen for a day or two, to study her traditional techniques. He imagined taking her to Jungle Jim's, shopping in the Vietnamese section.

"If she can pull this off with scraps and substitutes, just think what she could do with the ingredients she really needs. It would be something amazing I'm certain," he thought as he savored another bite.

Finishing his meal, he dressed in his fresh whites. Not bothering to wake Ellen from her deep sleep, he explained to Maria he was leaving for work early and gathered his things to leave. Ellen came out of the bedroom just before Rob left.

"What's cooking? It woke me up," she asked.

Rob pointed to Maria in the kitchen.

"Maria's thrown together Vietnamese omelets. It's like Egg Foo Yung. Only better, way better."

She looked over at the platter of food curiously. Rob gave Ellen a quick hug then dashed out the door for his twelve-hour shift on The Ship.

Standing near the kitchen, Ellen watched as Maria fried her last portion. Smoke hung in the air from the hot oil, irritating Ellen's sleepy eyes. Reaching over the stove, Ellen clicked on the range hood exhaust fan, instantly sucking the smoke outside. Maria looked at the whirring vent with wide eyes.

"Ah ha!" Maria said, nodding with a smile. "Very good!" she commented as she looked at the fan controls with great interest.

Watching her amazement, Ellen realized Maria had never even seen a kitchen exhaust fan before. She knew Maria would be learning and discovering life in America for some time before she finally had a firm grasp on the culture here. The land Maria came from was nearly alien compared to Ellen's world.

"Maria, this is so good!" Ellen said, eating bites of the breakfast as she complimented it. "I will take you to the store. We can get what you need to cook. Whatever you want to make. I want to try it all."

Maria smiled and thanked her.

"We can go out for dinner on Sundays. I will show you our favorite things around here. And maybe we can get Rob to cook a few dinners too, he's fantastic," Ellen said.

Ellen helped to choose an outfit for Maria as best she could from her own clothes. Her plus sized clothing was baggy on Maria's slim figure. They shared a laugh as Maria struggled to bunch the waist of her pants with a belt. Finding her a dress from her youth, Ellen managed to dig up something that was semi-fitting on Maria's petite frame. She was enjoying having this day-to-day life with the sister she never knew. Once dressed, they headed off to the grocery. Ellen decided to go across the river to the big international grocer, Jungle Jim's.

Excited to show Maria the massive international grocery, she felt near giddy at the thought of seeing Maria's surprise over the immense ingredient selections Jungle Jim's had to offer. Walking into the giant store, Maria looked at the aisles in awe as Ellen guided her straight to the Asian section.

Rows of authentic products spanned the aisles, each isle labeled by country of origin; China, Korea, Vietnam, Thailand... The list went on to cover every country and culture around the globe. Maria smiled wide in wonder as she browsed the Vietnamese items she knew from her homeland. Following behind with a cart, Ellen watched as Maria selected the items she needed.

Walking on to the produce section, they stopped at a bank of bright orange mangos. Maria grabbed one up and immediately took a bite out of it. Ellen looked around nervously to see who might be watching. She was about to tell Maria the store didn't allow free samples when Maria stopped chewing, looking at Ellen in disgust. Spitting the chewed bite onto the floor, she wrinkled her face with a sour look. Ellen felt embarrassed, then laughed. Maria laughed along with her.

"These fruit are not ready," Maria said as she shook her head.

Ellen nodded. "Yeah, most all of the fruit is green. It gets shipped here from other countries. They pick it green so it can make here before it goes bad."

Maria looked confused. "No mangos grow here?"

Ellen shook her head. "No not really. They are all from other countries."

Walking Maria on through the produce section, Ellen explained how to read the country of origin off the tiny sticker labels on the fruit.

"See Maria, look, these peppers are from Mexico, and those bananas are from Brazil. It's pretty much all imported," Ellen said pointing to the labels.

Maria stood shocked. She didn't understand why a nation so large would not grow it's own food, but buy green tasteless imports instead. Ellen found no valid answer to reply with.

As they shopped, Ellen pointed out more imported food in the meat, bread, cheese and other sections.

"Most all of our food is imported. Very little comes from the USA. Things that are, are usually more expensive."

Maria couldn't believe it. "You buy from China, for less than what you can grow here, how can that be? It comes so far, on such big ships, why would food from here cost more?" Maria asked.

Ellen shook her head. "Chinese labor is far cheaper than ours. Plus the government there pays the companies to lower the prices even more," she replied. "We just don't grow much here anymore besides potatoes, grain, corn and soybeans. What we do grow, we process into junk food, sell to other countries, and even give away."

Maria went about the produce isle sneaking bites from items before she would put them in the cart. Ellen felt a kind of embarrassment at first. Then she thought about it.

"Why not? If they try to sell us crap, we won't buy it. How would you know of you didn't taste it? To hell with them if they don't like it, they should provide samples."

She remembered the market in Can Tho. Customers shopped, chewing on samples as the vendors offered slices and chunks of their wares.

"That's the way it should be," Ellen decided.

Joining in, she discreetly sampled the veggies and fruits with Maria as the two filled their cart. It was a meaningful bonding moment she never expected.

Across town, George was in the dining room as Rob walked in.

"Ah! Chef Rob. We have no special guests tonight. You will have an easy pace in the kitchen on this beautiful day."

Rob laughed at his words. There was something about George that always came off so grand. He liked the way George explained his thoughts. They way he spoke to him as if he were an important member of some royal clan, or a familiar family friend. He didn't trust George's words, but the way he spoke, his mannerisms and personality were hard not to appreciate.

"It's the same as any other day. Every table is a VIP to me," Rob said with a shrug.

George nodded, holding his arms out from his sides.

"I stand corrected. You are a true professional. I respect that greatly."

Rob smiled. "Well, I won't have to rush through those cheesecake desserts anyway. That's a plus."

George waved his finger. "No! You will put that dessert on the menu, for all to enjoy. It is a work of art, a delicious art demanding to be presented to any and all with taste and appreciation."

Rob felt proud over the statement.

"Okay... I guess I might as well get used to making them daily. I will start training Miguel on the prep right away."

George nodded in approval. "Yes. We must offer a grand finale to our amazing meals. They will outshine every restaurant in the city."

Rob smiled again, shrugging. "I don't know about that, but we will make a few bucks selling them for certain. The cost per portion is very low."

George took a fast stride towards him, waving a hand in disagreement. "Rob, if you wish to be a success above and beyond others, you must strive to be the best! Stop at nothing in your pursuit. Allow no obstacle to stand in your way, and let no man interfere at any cost. Keep those words in your mind Chef Rob. Never let any other thought spoil your focus. Success only comes when you focus to do one thing. You must make every effort to do it the very best, every time, especially when you face a setback. Only those that have struggled against all odds become the best. If you heed my advice Rob, you can achieve more than you ever imagined."

Nodding in appreciation, Rob felt a slight wonder as George disappeared through the swinging doors. Prepping the cheesecake, he was still thinking about George's words.

"This guy just keeps throwing me for a loop. You think you know who he is, then he changes gears and is totally opposite of what you thought before," he said to himself as he worked quietly.

Working side by side, he began to train Miguel how to make the cheesecake. Focusing on his task with new diligence, his thoughts kept returning back to George. The bruises, aches, pains and occasional memories of fear were still alive from his near fatal Vietnam adventure. The person he was before he left for the trip was inevitably lost forever. He found himself only half listening as Miguel recounted a tale of his previous night's sexual conquest. Standing in silence as they mixed the filling, Rob knew he would never be quite the same again.

A violet red sun sank slowly into the Ohio River. The service stayed steady and trouble free. During the peak of the rush, just as the tickets began to sputter steadily out of the printer, Ellen called Rob's phone. He heard it ringing in his pocket but had not a second to spare to answer. She re-dialed his number three times in a row. On the third call, he began to worry. It had to be Ellen, something must be wrong. She knew he was in a rush at this time of night. She would never disturb him if it were not a serious matter.

Seeing her name on the phone's screen, he felt tense as he quickly stepped back to the dish room to answer.

"Hello, Ellen? What's going on?" he asked as he covered an ear to hear clearly.

"Rob!" Ellen said in tears. "We went to store and when we came home we were locked out. I called the building manager. He came over and let us in but he says we can't stay here anymore. My dad was on disability and since he's gone we can't stay. He says this building is for Social Security income tenants only, and that they have a long waiting list. Rob... he said we have to leave tonight... We are carrying what we can to the sidewalk now, but I can never take it all. I don't even have a place to store what little Maria and I could manage to carry down so far. Rob, this is really bad, what are we going to do?"

She paused and began crying. Rob paced as he listened. Hearing her burst into tears, he stopped in his tracks.

"What the fuck! Locked out just like that, with no warning?" he asked.

Ellen stuttered through her sobs. "He... he, says they sent a notice after my dad's funeral. But I wasn't here to get it. All my stuff will be lost. We will be left with only what we can carry. After shopping I only have about three hundred dollars left. We can't move anywhere on that. All the fresh food we just bought will spoil... I guess I will have to get a cheap hotel room for the three of us. Maybe they will take some of the food back but..."

She broke down again, crying as she muffled the phone against her arm.

Rob felt fury build inside him. Calming his emotions, he tried to consul her. "I will think of something. Just calm down and try to relax. Just sit tight for now, I will call you right back."

Rob's stomach dropped as he swiped 'End' on the phone. He was in the middle of pushing a steady pace on the busy line. Now, twenty blocks away, across the river in Newport, Ellen was homeless on a dark sidewalk, with Maria.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Rob shouted. Kicking a trashcan, he sent it careering across the room. Bottles spilled out across the floor, shattering against the block wall. George heard the commotion and came running into the kitchen.

"Why are you people so loud! Every night I come in here and tell you the same thing. I don't want guests to hear you from the dining room!"

Rob leaned on the counter top. "It was me, I apologize."

George looked at him in surprise. Walking over to Rob with a scowl, shooing Armando away, George turned to Rob.

"You of all the people here must set the highest example. You are these scurrying rat's Master. You must always maintain control. Never let them see you out of control Rob."

Leaning close, George asked what the problem was. Rob hung his head.

"I was evicted before work today. But that's fine because I want to stay with Ellen at her place. Just now, Ellen came home and found she was evicted too. She is trying to carry out an entire two-bedroom apartment to the sidewalk at this very minute. She will be left with whatever she can carry in her arms. I lost all my savings and Ellen lost her inheritance in Vietnam. Maria had no money to begin with. Now, we are all three homeless with only few hundred bucks between us. Homeless George! Have you ever been homeless? I haven't but it doesn't sound fun to me. As of ten minutes ago we officially have no place to sleep. Ellen just called me crying. I lost it for a second. I apologize... I have no idea what to do now. We can't even move our things. I guess we have enough to get a room in some dump motel for a few nights or so... but after that... we're fucked."

George sighed. "When faced with sudden problems you can never lose control of your thoughts. It is then that you need all your wits to focus on the solution most."

Rob feigned a laugh. "There is no solution George. We don't have enough money to move anywhere with."

George leaned closer, putting a hand on Rob's shoulder. "Ah... But your solution has escaped you."

Rob shrugged. "I can't imagine what is."

George leaned back with his arms out wide. "Your solution is in your allies. You have me as an ally correct? You needed only to explain and ask for help."

Rob looked at him with eyebrows raised. "I wasn't about to come crying to you about it. Besides, what concern is it to you anyway."

George laughed as he slapped Rob's shoulder several times.

"Do you really think I would allow my favorite Chef and server to sleep in a gutter?"

Rob tried to smile. "Even if you loaned us the money for a new place, we won't have any furniture, nothing but what few clothes we can carry. There is no time to move it all out tonight, no one to help and no vehicle to move it all with. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't see how you can help much in such short notice."

Laughing, George took a keycard from his pocket.

"You should trust in me Rob. I can help in any situation."

Rob looked at the electronic key in George's hand.

George's eyes gleamed with a smile. "I have a vessel nearby. The Lady Jane. She is at a marina very near here. You will stay there. You can stay until you have the funds for a proper place that suits you."

"That's awesome!" Rob said, shaking George's hand. "But Ellen has a lot of stuff, dressers, beds, couches and tables... We can't move that stuff to a boat and we have no way to store it either. I hate to see her lose everything. I don't care about my furniture, but hers..."

George interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Do not focus on that. You will buy new furniture, better furniture, with your success. Right now, you need to focus on your command here on The Ship. She will provide you with all you need. Take only your clothing and prized personal possessions. As a caterpillar sheds its cocoon to become a butterfly, you too must shed the past and move on. This is simply a new chapter in your life Rob. A bright new future awaits you, embrace it with excitement."

George's words were enlightening. Rob couldn't help but agree.

"You're right. To hell with that old ass furniture! Ellen is waiting for me to call. She is so upset. I can't wait to tell her the good news. I can't thank you enough. You really got us out of jamb on this one. You seem to have a habit of unexpectedly doing that when we need help the most."

George laughed as he pulled a cigar from his breast pocket.

"I am happy to help. I will go to ends of the earth for a person I believe in. And I am beginning to believe in you Chef Rob. I only help those I feel are deserving of the effort. Sadly, I find very few people that are worth bothering with. There was a time when I..."

As his words trailed off, George seemed to be lost in thought as he silently clipped the end off his cigar. Rob pulled out his phone to call Ellen.

"The apartment manager is really on her ass. She is in a near panic. I will tell her the news and to call a cab right now. What is the address of the marina?"

George walked Rob back into the kitchen.

"Do not bother with cabs. You need a trusted ally to help Ellen and Maria. I have a trusted friend nearby. He will go to Ellen and her sister immediately to help with their move. They will have all the time they wish to gather what they choose if he is present. There will be no need to be concerned with the manager. When he arrives, I assure you, no one will stand in their way."

Rob laughed. "If it's who I think it is, I know that's a fact. That manager wants nothing to do with that cat. He's hard-core. What's his name anyway?"

George's smile disappeared. "His name is unimportant. He is trusted, that is all that matters. Tonight Chef Rob, you will sleep well, nestled deep in the bosom of the Lady Jane. She is a fine craft. You will find her accommodations commendable. I know I do. You will enjoy your stay there I am certain."

Calling Ellen, Rob told her The Unknown Caller would be coming to help her. He explained they would be living on George's boat until they had the money to get a new place and belongings. Ellen sounded relieved, but he could hear hesitation in her voice.

"What's wrong? I think it sounds great, we really have no other options anyway," he asked.

Ellen paused before replying. "It's very generous of George, don't get me wrong. I know we have nowhere else to go... but a boat? I don't know Rob. Can we all fit on a boat? The rooms will be so small... and with Maria, we will be crammed together. And what about the shower? Boats have such tiny showers... We will all be on top of each other."

In his haste and desperation, Rob had not considered her concerns. "It's better than a shitty bed bug ridden meth-motel. Besides, we both have good jobs. The servers are kicking ass in tips lately. You can find us a new apartment soon. We can buy new furniture, better than you had before. Where else are we going to go tonight anyway? I'm stuck here at work until midnight at least. Miguel is falling behind as we speak, the line will be crashing any minute if I don't go help him right now. I can't exactly just up and leave. Let's just get you and Maria safely to the boat and worry about the future tomorrow."

Ellen knew it was the only option. "Okay... Yeah, you're right. I'm just so upset I can't think straight. We can stay for a few nights until we get our money together. Between the two of us we will have enough to move soon. Live on a boat? Maybe it will actually be fun. Tell George 'Thank You' for me please. I know he's hard to trust, but he seems to come through for us when we need it the most."

Rob agreed. He asked her to go back, wait inside and ignore the manager until The Caller arrived. Jogging back to the line, Rob overheard Micah as he called out the orders a second time to Miguel.

"Thanks Micah, I will take it from here. You go back to your station and focus on what you have working."

Micah nodded. Miguel shot Rob a look of relief as he began calling out the orders a second time.

"Just gimme' a few minutes amigo. I almost have dees first one ready. I'm only dragging two cod, three minutes!" Miguel yelled back with renewed confidence.
Chapter 6

The Caller's black Mercedes stopped in front of Ellen's building as she stacked clothes on the sidewalk. Opening the trunk, he greeted Ellen at the curb.

"Hello again," he said as the trunk sprang open.

"Thanks for coming!" Ellen said with gratitude.

"No need to thank me. Thank George. He says to move you to his vessel. The marina is making it ready now."

Ellen felt waves of relief at the sight of him. The Caller helped stuff the belongings into trash bags. Squeezing them into every inch of space in the car.

Cramming the last items into the seats, Maria had no place to sit except for on Ellen's lap. Closing the doors, they headed for the marina.

"I hope we have room for this all stuff on the boat," Ellen said.

The Caller sat silent as he drove.

"Have you been aboard George's boat before?" she asked.

"Yes, many times," The Caller replied as he piloted the Benz through the streets.

Ellen expected more of an answer but didn't press.

After a brief drive, they parked in the marina, dead in front of the main dock. A marina employee on a golf cart sped to meet them as they exited the Benz. The Caller motioned to the car as the marina employee stopped beside them.

"It all goes with them aboard," he said. Not bothering to unload the bags, he walked away towards the dock.

"He will bring your things," the Caller said as he paused, waiting for Ellen and Maria to catch up.

Taking her cue, Ellen jogged to walk beside him with Maria following behind.

"Shouldn't we help carry our stuff?" Ellen asked in her trot.

The Caller waved her quiet. "It's his job. Besides, George's boat is the largest in the marina. They will do anything possible to please him."

Ellen walked along the rocking wooden dock. The Caller pointed to a massive gleaming white yacht at the very end of the long walkway.

"There she is. The Lady Jane," The Caller announced as they stepped closer to her bow.

As they walked alongside the hundred foot craft, Ellen couldn't believe her eyes. It stood forty feet off the water. Three stories high, black glass lining the sides. Walking up the gangplank onto the Lady Jane, Ellen felt like Royalty. Maria looked on in silent awe.

Handsome Teak wood furniture afforded relaxing accommodations on the outdoor sun deck. Bright white canvas shades had been hoisted to cover the seating. Passing inside through the sliding doors, the space opened up into a richly appointed sitting room. Cool conditioned air filled her breath as she stepped inside. Hand crafted Birdseye maple cabinets surrounded a well stocked bar on one side. Twin oversized leather sofas faced each other across a matching Birds Eye coffee table.

At the far end of the room, a shining polished Brazilian walnut twelve-seat dining table sat surrounded by expansive windows, affording rippling river views on both sides. Passing through the dining room, they walked into an entertaining area. A large floor to ceiling cabinet divided the two rooms. Both sides of the cabinet concealed massive twin televisions.

The ceiling vaulted high above the rooms. Trimmed in more rich wood with mirrored inlays, Ellen could see the stars through its tinted glass. Passing through a cabinet lined hallway, moving on towards the bow, they stepped into the impressive galley.

Curved windows spanned the walls. Polished granite countertops covered spacious cabinets. The galley opened up into another more informal dining area. The Caller motioned them through the sliding glass doors. They followed, stepping outside onto another deck.

"You have to be kidding!" Ellen said with an excited whisper.

"This is not a boat. This is a luxury yacht. It has to be worth millions..."

The Caller nodded. "I have no doubt she is. And for now, she will be your home."

Ellen was ecstatic. "This is bigger than any apartment in the city! It's bigger than most houses... and far more beautiful than anything I have ever..."

The Caller waved them on as he walked back through the doorway.

"This of course, is the main floor. Down below are the sleeping rooms and showers," he said taking to the stairs.

They followed as he walked them down a spiral staircase to yet another entertainment room, divided by a see-through fireplace. This room featured more luxury leather furniture, a surround sound entertainment center and a stocked bar as well.

Opening the door to the first bedroom, The Caller paused in the open the doorway.

"This is a guest room. I would assume this will be suitable for Maria," he said as the two curious women peeked in.

It was as luxurious as the rest of the rooms, with a coziness Ellen found irresistible. "This... This is a guest room?" Ellen asked.

The Caller nodded. "Indeed. The master suite is at the end of the hall, past the guest bathroom."

Maria wanted to immediately settle in and feel the plush mattress, but Ellen motioned her to follow as The Caller moved on down the hall. Opening a door in the hallway, he pointed.

"The guest bath," he said as he passed by.

Ellen looked in with amazement. Marble tile floors and counter tops gleamed in the dim light. A glass-lined tiled body shower spanned a corner. Surrounded by dark wood cabinets, it looked inviting. Maria wanted to waste no time stepping in under a hot spray of relaxation. She had never known hot water until arriving at Ellen's apartment a day ago.

Opening the next door, The Caller briefly described it and moved on.

"A second guest room, which I assume you won't be needing."

Ellen peeked inside; she noticed it was very much like the other guest room. The only difference being, this one-featured two double beds rather than the single king mattress as the first.

As he opened the last door at the end of the hall, The Caller turned to Ellen with a sly smile.

"And this, this is the master suite."

They stepped into the darkened room as he switched the light on. Illuminated by lights hidden behind the molding around the ceiling, Ellen's eyes went wide. A massive eight-foot by eight-foot bed covered in a deep purple velvet comforter centered the room. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with dark wood cabinets.

Sliding a door open, The Caller motioned with his hand.

"The master bath," he said casually.

Maria and Ellen made quick steps inside. Flicking on the light, she was again amazed. This bath featured a large spa on one side, a glass lined shower on the other. In-between, they were separated by a long twin-bowl sink cabinet. Huge mirrors made the room look expansive. Windows flooded the walls with winking light off the river.

"A hot tub!" Ellen said under her breath as she stood staring at the luxury bath. "Rob is going to freak out when he sees this."

The Caller nodded. "It looks quite inviting I must admit. Especially if one is accompanied by a love interest, if I may be so bold."

Ellen blushed at his words as the images of Rob and her sharing a romantic liaison in the bubbling water flashed into her mind.

Pulling herself away, she stepped to bed, falling onto it with a bounce. The Caller took a small remote from a drawer.

"This controls the television and communicates with the bridge," he said pressing a button.

Ellen looked shocked as a huge flat screen TV rose up out of the footboard.

"It also controls the lighting, security cameras and the surround sound system."

Ellen watched as he raised and dimmed the lights.

"This is heaven on earth. What a fantastically amazing home. I can't imagine why George would ever live anywhere else," she said as Maria fell on the bed beside her.

The Caller looked over to her. "You not have seen George's apartment at The Ascent yet I take it?"

Ellen shook her head 'No' in reply without looking at him, her eyes glued to the extravagantly appointed bedroom. Noticing her fixation with her new surroundings, The Caller stepped back to the hallway with a laugh.

"You could safely say it's a bit more spacious than the Lady Jane. In fact, it's the largest unit in the building. This is George's home away from home of sorts. In all the decades I have known him, The Lady Jane has always accompanied wherever he travels. I suspect he would have never have even come here to Cincinnati if it were not for this river, where she could be near him. She is one of the few things he seems to hold dear. You are among a very privileged few to be afforded the use of her. He has never offered private accommodations aboard to anyone in the past I'm aware of. She has entertained celebrities and princes, but none have been afforded the privilege of staying aboard alone. George must truly be fond of you."

Pondering his words silently, she remained breathless lying on the big bed deep in the belly of the multi million-dollar yacht. This was her first glimpse as to just what level of financial wealth George possessed. She wondered how he had come into these millions... "How he could afford this amazingly extravagant lifestyle?" she asked herself.

Maria lay still beside Ellen in silent wide-eyed wonder of her own. She had never imagined such a vessel existed. She felt it was a palace fit for a king as ran her fingers over the velvety bedding.

The Caller presented Ellen with an electronic key.

"Here is the key. If you require any help with the Lady Jane's functions, do not hesitate to call to the marina. The phone number is in the office upstairs. George said you are welcome to any of the bar stocks that you care to drink. There is no food aboard as no one was staying here until your arrival. Now that you are safe here, my duty is done."

With a nod he disappeared down the hall.

After stowing the groceries from Jungle Jim's in the galley and packing their meager belongings into the cabinets and drawers, Ellen sat outside on the aft deck sipping a hot tea with Maria. Resting back in a chaise lounge chair, she sent Rob a teasing text. She knew by his earlier phone call he had no idea of how magnificent The Lady Jane truly was. Typing the keys she laughed to herself.

"We moved the all things I really care about to the boat. I suppose I can handle living here for a few days if you can. We will just have to make the best of it for now. Come home as soon as you can. I can't wait to see you."

In the hustle and bang of the kitchen, Rob didn't notice the text notice beep until hours later. After the orders calmed down, he read her words. Excited to leave, he asked Miguel to get started cleaning early. He was longing to get home to Ellen, judging by her text she was now in a better mood. He looked forward to seeing her and their temporary living quarters. There wouldn't be much of the night left by the time he clocked out, he didn't want to waste minute of it.
Chapter 7

Arriving at the marina, Rob studied the slip numbers to find his way; anxious to get his first glimpse of the boat they would be living aboard. Jogging down the dock, he followed the numbers until he came to the Lady Jane. Just as Ellen, he was shocked at the site of the massive yacht before him. Ascending the ramp, he cautiously stepped onto the deck.

"Man I hope this right. I sure don't want to be intruding onto this thing if this is not George's. Could this really be George's so-called boat?" he thought to himself as he tiptoed aboard quietly.

Stepping nervously onto the deck, he relaxed when he saw Maria sitting in a deck chair, holding a fishing pole by her feet, her line hanging off the railing. Rob looked at her and smiled.

"Man! This is the boat? This is amazing!" he said with a huge smile.

Maria smiled back with a wave and stood up, perching her pole against the deck chair.

"Rob!" she said as she stepped closer to him. "You won't believe this place. Ellen is inside. You should go to her. I am staying out here to catch fish. We can cook them and have many meals for free."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "I appreciate your ingenuity but we can't eat any of the fish out of this river."

Maria pursed her lips with a scowl. "Why can't we eat the fish?"

Rob pointed at the muddy water. "It's all polluted too heavily."

Scowling, Maria looked out at the water. Seeing her confusion, he rephrased.

"It's dirty water. Too poisoned to eat or drink from. Very dirty water means very dirty fish. They will make us sick, or worse."

Winding in her line, she pouted, mumbling. "Green fruit from China, poison fish from the river. Do you buy all your fish from China too?" she asked in a huff.

Rob nodded. "We buy a lot of it from China. Not much comes from here. Alaska has good fish, some parts of the Coasts, and the Gulf. Mostly we buy it from other countries."

Maria shook her head in disgust. She had never imagined a land where nearly all of the food was bought from another country, not to mention one where the free local resources were too polluted to consume.

Stepping inside, the impressive Lady Jane was more than Rob imagined. It was a multi million-dollar floating luxury apartment suite. For now, it was his new home. It was hard for him to grasp. It was so beautiful and expensive, he was nearly afraid to touch anything inside.

Running his hand along the silky wood bar top, he scanned the room. He felt the supple leather of the sofas with his fingertips as passed by. Walking slowly, he moved into the elegant dining room.

Making his way through to the bow, he came to the kitchen. Standing in the middle of the galley, he surveyed the appointments. Pro quality equipment was tucked into discreet compartments throughout the cabinets. Looking around the sleek modern space, Rob quickly realized he could create any meal here with ease. The view from the galley was inspiring.

Seeing no sign of Ellen, Rob continued his exploration of the Lady Jane. Stepping down the spiral stairs, he came into the long hallway. Doors lined the polished wood walls. Opening one after the next, he peeked inside. Coming to a bathroom, he had to stop and stare. No shower had ever looked more inviting to him than right at that moment.

"Man I want to get in that water," he said as he walked back to the hall. "This place is amazing, but where is Ellen?" he wondered.

Stepping past the first bedroom, he peeked through the open door but saw no one inside. Moving on to the end of hall, he twisted the knob on the master bedroom door. He lit up at first sight of it. It was even more breathtaking than the other rooms had been. His eyes shot to the bed.

"There you are! I was wondering where the hell you were all this time. Are you asleep?" he asked Ellen.

On her side, curled up with a pillow, Ellen lay draped in the velvet cover, lying in the nude. He could see uninterrupted skin from her face to her breasts, then again from her hips to her toes. Without a word, she pointed the remote control, dimming the lights to a warm cozy candlelight ambiance. Touching the remote again, music came from all sides, above and below. Softly, a jazz trio beat surrounded the room at a just audible level.

Smiling, Ellen pointed a finger towards a corner bar cabinet. Above it, shelves were stocked with bottles and glasses. Underneath concealed a refrigerator that dispensed cold water and ice. Looking closer, Rob saw the sink was filled with ice, a green bottleneck sticking up through the ice chunks.

"It's Dom," Ellen said as she watched his eyes stop at the bottle.

Walking over slowly, Rob pulled it from the ice, reading the label.

"Damn Ellen! This is twenty-year-old Dom, did you buy that?"

She pointed to the bar cabinets.

"There are dozens of them. The whole cabinet is stocked with nothing but vintage Dom and glasses. The Caller said we are welcome to any stocks on onboard."

Rob poured two glasses, bubbles danced across the top, popping out of the glasses like Fourth of July sparklers in the hands of a smiling child.

"This is no boat! This is a floating palace. Man, we are so lucky George offered us this place. We would sandwiched in be a stinky Motel Six right now. Three of us sharing a double bed room, eating White Castle and drinking Yuengling on stained sheets if it weren't for him."

Ellen raised her eyebrows. "I know. This is like a dream I never even dreamed of. I am so excited to be here. But you know what?"

Rob poured the drinks as he listened.

"Whether we are on The Lady Jane, or in a stinky Motel Six, the only thing that really makes me happy, is that you're here with me," she said sitting up.

Handing her a glass of champagne, he smiled back.

"Yep, I feel just the same. A stinky motel, a cheap pizza and cheaper beer are fine with me too, as long as we're together."

Ellen sipped her fizzy drink as Rob looked around the room again.

"But even still, you have to admit... This place is awesome!" he said laughing.

Ellen agreed, laughing with him. Falling onto the bed, he rested his head on Ellen's hip.

Stroking his head, she brushed his hair from his face, she noticed his hair smelled like fish, smoke and fryer grease.

"You can't be on this clean bed Rob. You have to get up," she said, waving him away.

Standing up, he shot her a smiling stare.

"Why is that?"

She laughed. "You reek like a homeless fish monger."

He laughed back.

"Well I am homeless and I do work with a lot of fish. I wanted to come straight home and shower but I didn't see you anywhere, then I found you in here... wearing nothing but that..."

He tugged at the cover to see underneath. She snatched it back with a snap.

"Fine. A hot shower, then hot sex," he said, leaning over to her lips with a fast lunge, kissing her quickly.

Shedding his Chef pants, shuffling his feet out of his underwear, he disappeared into the luxurious bath.

"Jesus! Look at this!" Ellen heard him say as he shut the door behind him.

The power jet body showerhead washed away the grime from a hard night on the line down the gold plated drain. Rob closed his eyes and reveled in the sudden change of life he was enjoying. Ellen was a permanent fixture in his daily life now. Free reign and the promise of high pay made his job better than he thought possible. Not to mention, now they were living like millionaires aboard the biggest private yacht in the city.

Wasting no time, Rob stepped out into the bedroom, still drying with a towel. Ellen had been desperately trying to think of a sexy pose to be waiting for him when he came out. Unhappy with her looks from any angle, she chose to lie on her belly, legs crossed, bent at the knee, the velvet blanket covering her back and thighs. She was setting her drink on the bedside table as Rob slid under the cover beside her.

Rob started dragging the cover off. Ellen grabbed it, holding it in place. He realized she want didn't to be without it. Sliding his hands under the fabric, his warm fingers ran from her thighs up to her bottom. Running his hands back down, slowly along her legs, he took his time to savor her.

Repeating his massage again, each time slower and harder, he felt her relax under his touch. Working her thigh muscles deeply, he inched her legs apart. After several minutes, he opened her legs wider. In the dim light, her bare womanhood came into view. He could see she was glistening as he bent down close to give her thigh a lick then a kiss.

Ellen knew exactly what was to come. She was ready and willing as she felt his fingers ease into her. Arching up with his touch, she afforded him more access. Rubbing gently, he circled her into a slow frenzy. She pushed back into his fingers. Steady at first, then with a more rhythmic motion, rocking gently. Rob watched in lust as her bottom shook to the beat of his strokes.

His straining manhood was demanding attention. Focusing on Ellen, he held back his growing need to push deep into her. Bending down to her thighs, he kissed her legs as he rubbed her in time with her pushes. In seconds he felt her stiffen. Pausing her motion, she gripped the velvet cover with fists clenched tight as she shivered. Slowly, he stopped rubbing, sliding his fingers out of her.

Her head fell to the bed. Still arched with her bottom high in the air, Rob eased her thighs even farther apart with his knees as he kneeled between her legs. His manhood could feel the heat from her wetness before it even made contact. As he began to slide into her warmth, Ellen held fast to the sheets. Holding her by her hips, his manhood slid into her. Pushing in slowly, inch-by-inch, he filled her until she cried out with a gasp.

Her incredible tightness reminded him that a mere two days ago Ellen was a virgin. Easing back out slowly, he pushed in half as far this time. Allowing her to adjust to his girth as he continued his shallow thrusts. It wasn't two minutes before Ellen was pushing back, taking him deeper with every push. She longed to feel him inside her, filling her completely. Seeing her encouragement, Rob pushed harder. Their tempo doubled, Ellen pushed back in time, calling out through a grimace as she coaxed him on.

"I want all of you. Take me all the way..."

He couldn't believe the fire inside her now. She was a changed woman. A mere few days ago he would have never guessed the insatiable sexual woman she was tonight would be anything remotely reminiscent of Ellen the shy quiet server.

Several tense minutes passed as Rob fought the intensity building inside him. Trying with all his focus to hold back his release, he knew it wouldn't be long before the incredible feeling pushed him past the breaking point. Watching Ellen's bottom shake to his thrusts, and hearing her moans was pushing him past the edge. Just as the feeling peaked, he pushed further than before, sinking his full length into her.

Gripping him in a vise like hold, he felt her tighten around him as she gave in to another shaking orgasm, this one more powerful than the first. Her body shivered under him. It was too much to fight off. Holding her by her hips, pressing every last centimeter as deep as possible, he pulsed hot inside her. Ellen relaxed her body down to the bed as he stopped still.

Falling to her side, Rob sighed in relief. Turning towards him quickly, she wormed against his form as they caught their breath together in silent satisfaction. Lying still together, face-to-face, they felt the Lady Jane sway.

"Oh my god. Did we rock this huge ship?" Ellen asked with a laugh.

Rob rose, looking out the tinted window. "It's the wake from a barge," he replied as he stared out at the rippling water. Staring at the river scenery, he noticed a thousand tiny lights along the waterfront.

"It's really nice outside. Want to go out to the deck? Finish those fine drinks?" he asked as he turned back to her.

The two dressed in robes and walked upstairs to the aft deck. Sitting side by side on the outdoor sofa, they sipped their fine champagne in the pale moonlight. The lights of city skyline shimmered through the hazy fog, its mirror image winking on the waves below. Nestled together, Ellen and Rob watched the serene scene silently. No words were needed. The moment was too precious to spoil with speech.

Rob pulled her close with his arm around her shoulders. Ellen smiled, kissing him with a peck. Giggling, she covered her mouth to keep from laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, tickling her side.

"Nothing... Nothing at all. I'm just... I've never been so happy," she said with a whisper.

Setting her glass aside, Ellen stretched onto her side across on the soft sofa. Resting her head on Rob's lap, they held still and quiet together, staring lazily at the city scene. Chirping crickets and rolling waves lapping to shore were the only sounds penetrating the late night air. Lightning bugs flashed their iridescent neon green indecipherable Morse code against the black sky high up in the trees along the riverbank. A calming peace came washing over Rob and Ellen in waves, soothing their souls with a morphine-like high. The calm filled them with peacefulness neither had ever experienced before, nor even imagined.
Chapter 8

Dawn was just breaking over the river. Rob and Ellen were fast asleep in the oversized bed when George called out to them from the hall, knocking on their bedroom door.

"Wake up my love birds! Rise and shine. Report for duty! I need to get you into ship-shape with haste."

Coming awake and quickly dressing, they walked sleepily from the bedroom up to the galley where George was now waiting.

"I have the most wonderful fresh Italian pastries here, and fine Ethiopian coffee as well," he said on their arrival.

Rob looked at the box displayed on the counter top.

"Servatii, I love their stuff," he said, helping himself to a plump raspberry filled pastry.

George turned the box towards Ellen. "For you my dear Ellen? Please eat, drink and enjoy."

A golden cream cheese tort begged her attention. Taking it out, she thanked him.

"Here, please," he said, pushing her a cup fresh coffee. "It is my favorite of all varieties."

Each of them took a cup of the steaming brew. Taking their coffee, they moved to the leather cushioned bar stools.

George held his arms out from his sides. "Living aboard the lovely Lady Jane is my gift to you. You have made it through a dangerous adventure to return home with Maria. Obviously, you are a couple in the blossom of unstoppable love. I remember my first love like that... So long ago..." he said, trailing off he turned away, staring at the glittering water.

Slapping his hands on his legs he turned back to them.

"I only interrupted your sleep to properly introduce you to the Lady Jane. Living aboard her is rewarding, but life onboard takes getting used to. There are many subtle differences between life on land and life here on the water."

George escorted his guests around the yacht, explaining every detail of the Lady Jane's features and amenities, as well as the functions of her equipment. After a complete tour, he stopped and turned to them.

"She is all yours to enjoy," he said as looked at his phone. "Please forgive my unexpected intrusion, I only wanted to personally see that you fully understood the functions of this fine vessel. No one knows her as I do. She and I have spent many wonderful moments together over the years. She is truly family to me."

Turning to the bar, he took several bottles of Champagne, stuffing them into a leather bag.

"I need these for a private gathering tonight. Feel free to indulge in the remaining stock aboard. But not before work mind you," he said as he pointed at Rob with a laugh. "I kid you of course. You are a true professional. I look forward to seeing the great things you will create for us on The Ship tonight."

Ellen put an arm around Rob as George turned to leave. Stopping, he smiled at their coziness. Maria came into the kitchen from behind them.

"Ah! The sister from Vietnam so sought after by Miss Ellen. How are you today young lady?" he asked, walking back to the counter to pour her a coffee.

"I'm very fine," Maria replied, smiling wide, taking her coffee in hand with a slight bow.

"Of course you are," George said patting her shoulder. "You are in the civilized world now. Here in America, one can achieve any dream they choose. Create great wealth and afford the finest the world has to offer. I have heard of your talents, you will do well here I am sure."

Maria smiled, thanking him again. "I only wish to work peacefully," she said softly.

George raised his eyebrows. "I understand you are a very capable fighter trained in the art of combat. You are fierce-some and feared... And yet, even with your cropped hair, you are still so beautiful... a true devil in disguise. What work would you care to apply your deadly skills to here?"

Blushing, she looked down at the polished wood floor. "I only wish to work peacefully," she repeated.

Everyone was silent. George's comment subtlety reminded them all Maria killed several people just days ago, and untold numbers in the past thirty years in the drug gang.

Rob broke the uncomfortable silence.

"She's an amazing cook! And she cleans like a four man crew too."

George laughed. "An amazing cook you say? Well that is interesting. Perhaps you can learn to use your knife skills in whole new way."

Rob wondered what George was getting at.

George rubbed his chin, smiling over at Rob.

"The Ship is very busy. I am sure Maria's assistance would be valuable in our kitchen."

Rob shot him a look. "Sure. She could prep, wash dishes and clean. With Maria doing those duties, I could begin training Armando on the line. He is always going on about wanting to cook with us."

George nodded. "In your absence he helped behind the line during a very busy service. It seemed to overwhelm him, but he could be of more value if he were trained to cook... It is settled. Maria will be working under your supervision in our kitchen as of today."

Maria bounced with joy, smiling at Rob and Ellen. She bowed three times in front of George.

"Thank you Mr. George. Thank you very much. You are very kind."

George smiled back, patting her head as she bowed. "You are very welcome my little tiger. You will prove yourself valuable I am certain."

Rob looked at Maria with smile. "You will be welcome addition to our crew. I can only tolerate hard working people in the kitchen, I know you will be a great asset."

Ellen smiled at her as Maria beamed back at them with joy. "This will be awesome!" Ellen said. "You, Rob and I all working together, I think it will be great. Plus, you will be learning a lucrative trade. Once you learn how things work in the back of the house, you can get a job anywhere. Skilled kitchen workers have no trouble finding jobs in this country. You could train to cook if you want to as well. Good chefs are in serious demand, just look at Rob."

Shrugging with a laugh, Rob waved his hands. "Don't judge by me Maria. I'm homeless and broke. But you can do fine in this business if you want to learn. Somehow I just took a few wrong turns recently."

"But good things are coming now Rob," George said as he slung the bag of champagne over his shoulder. Walking to leave, he turned to Rob and Ellen. "Goodbye my love birds. You are welcome to enjoy the Lady Jane and all her comforts until you find a suitable home for yourselves."

With those words, he turned and exited the Lady Jane. They waved goodbye from the deck as George walked to the dock, lighting a cigar.

Ellen and Maria walked back into the kitchen as they excitedly talked her about new job. Rob stayed behind on the deck, watching as George made his way down the dock.

"Good things are to come Chef Rob Anderson! Very good things to come if you persevere." Rob heard him say as he walked away from The Lady Jane's slip.
Chapter 9

Refreshed from a relaxing night, Rob and Maria arrived on The Ship early. She was excited about her first day. After showing her how to operate the dishwasher and where the cleaning supplies were kept, he set her about the opening tasks and decided to begin the prep himself.

Feeling reinvigorated, he prepped alone in the quiet kitchen, peeling potatoes, dicing carrots, cleaning seafood and boning fresh fish. Micah was the first cook to arrive. He shoved an Arabic sounding acoustic Jerry Garcia CD into the kitchen stereo as Rob went about his tasks to the music.

Miguel and Armando arrived shortly after. Introducing Maria to the crew, Rob explained she would be working with Armando, and helping wherever she was needed. Within minutes, Army began to show her how to polish the water spotted stainless steel pans and counter tops. Knowing Rob insisted it be shined to gleaming luster, he explained how to rub the bright metal with a sliced lemon half, then polish it to a high shine with a damp kitchen towel.

Nodding, Maria took the lemons and towels.

"I will teach her how to do all the work I do Chef. Then I can work on the line right?" Armando asked with enthusiasm as Rob filleted a fish.

"Sure Army. But I'm not just going to throw you behind the line just yet. You need to train and work your way up. Start by listening to Miguel, he will get you going on the prep and sauces. We will see how you do on that and go from there."

Armando smiled, looking over at Miguel. "I can do it! I've seen how you make the sauce," he said, snatching a shiny stockpot off the rack.

"Easy Amigo," Miguel said. "First you need to gather all the ingredients, come on, I show you what you need."

Setting Armando to his task, Miguel stood at Rob's side.

"What's de special tonight?" Miguel asked Rob.

"Tonight, I am thinking something exotic. Something with flavors from the sands of the dessert," Rob replied.

Miguel looked confused. "The dessert? We gonna' cook some scorpions?"

Rob laughed. "No, I think Micah's music has me in the mood to cook something ancient, something mystical."

Miguel stood with arms crossed. "Mystic? We gonna' cook a magic mushroom stew? That would be really cool, the guests would come back for that dish for sure!"

Rob pointed to the several whole legs of lamb wrapped in cloth on the prep counter.

"Moroccan Leg of Lamb. Spiced with traditional Middle Eastern herbs, slow simmered, then broiled. Served alongside a currant, almond & saffron couscous, with a pomegranate-watercress salad. We will serve it with a falafel appetizer. That is what I am feeling would make best use of those amazing lamb legs I ordered."

Miguel looked them over with his eyebrows high. "I dunno' Chef. We only have five hours until dinner service. You think we can pull that off?"

Rob cut the twine ties off the lamb's cloth cover. "You bet we will. Now put on the roasting pots. Fill them with stock halfway, with a good pour of olive oil in each. Set the ovens to 400. I will mix the herbs and spices for the rub."

Pouring his attention and effort into the lamb dish, Rob felt he was finally doing what he always wanted to, being a true Chef. Creating what moved him without concern or confrontation from the owner or menu restrictions. This is what he dreamed of even before his first day at culinary school.

Rob sat out containers of cumin, turmeric and delicate saffron. Bundles of fresh rosemary, garlic and onion sat along side, ready to be chopped.

The lamb was spiced and simmering. After an hour in the oven, the Moroccan treat had the kitchen singing with exotic aromas, inciting the taste buds with a simple the waft of steam from under the lid.

George arrived, stopping as he passed by the kitchen. Standing by the pass window, he called out for Rob.

"Rob. Tell me what this intoxicating scent I am detecting is."

Rob explained the dish with excitement. George insisted he get a peek at the lamb. As Rob took the lid from the pan, George breathed in deep as the steam floated past his face.

"I must have a dish of this, just as it will be served, the moment it has finished cooking."

Nodding, Rob shut the oven door.

"Sure thing. I hope you enjoy it."

George looked at him with utmost seriousness.

"Since I have been in this city, I have dined on nothing but American food and poorly created Americanized international dishes. I have watched you cook wonderful things here. But this aroma has transported me home. Just for an instant. I was reminded of the sweet smell that came from my mother's kitchen. As a boy, I would play outdoors with my siblings until near nightfall. When we all came in for dinner, I would walk into my mother's kitchen... and such a pleasing perfume would fill my head, fueling my appetite fiercely. If you manage to re-create that flavor, if you can even come close to that memory. I will be the most appreciative diner ever to dine on The Ship for certain. It has been so long since I..."

As his words trailed off, George walked away, talking to himself under his breath. Rob could have sworn he saw a tear well in George's eye as he walked out the kitchen doors.

"You heard that Miguel amigo. This dish has to be perfecto!" Rob said as he chopped onions and garlic.

Miguel shrugged. "I dunno' what eet ees supposed to taste like but eet sure smells damn good. You think we will get to try some?"

Rob shot him a look. "Of course we will try some. Cook's privilege right?"

Miguel grinned wide. "Si si! Cook's privilege."

Charley came into the kitchen with her usual stomp. Clicking the heels of her brand new Giuseppe Zanotti shoes across the tiled floor.

"Who is that new dishwasher? And who said you could hire just him without talking to me about it?" she asked.

Rob looked up from his work, shrugging as he answered.

"For one thing, George gave me control of the staff. And for two, that's not a him - that's Maria. She is Ellen's sister. I didn't have anything to do with hiring her anyway. George hired her himself. This is her first day. We are training her to do Army's job so he can learn to cook on the line."

Charley stared at Maria for a moment with a cold dissecting look. "She doesn't look anything like Ellen. Is she Chinese or something?"

Rob shook his head. "She's Vietnamese."

Charley shot Maria a glance, coldly looking away as Maria smiled back her. With a toss of her hair, she dismissed the topic.

"Whatever. What's the deal with this 'Special' George is going on about?" she asked in a huff.

Rob explained slowly as she wrote the description on a notepad.

"How much is it?" she asked.

Rob thought for moment.

"I only have about fifty portions. We may run out. Call it, 'Limited Availability'. Price it at... Forty nine dollars."

Charley shot him a sour look. "Jesus! That's fucking expensive Rob. It's supposed to be a special. We aren't going to sell many of those at that price."

Ignoring her remark, Rob shot her a smile.

"True specials are always higher priced than menu items. Some of our steaks cost forty-nine anyway. Trust me. This is special, it will be worth it."

Charley shot him a sarcastic smirk. "I certainly hope you like it, because you're going to be eating the leftovers for days," she said as she turned and walked away.

As she was leaving, Rob yelled out to her.

"Just make sure the servers present it as I described! Tell every one of them to come back here and taste it at five o'clock sharp."

As the dinner service crew filed in, George noticed the servers gathering in the kitchen for the lamb tasting. Ellen was ready for guests in her section, as were the other servers. Standing in the back of the line, she watched as the curious servers took turns forking out chunks of tender lamb. They each listened as Rob explained how to describe the dish. After he finished his specific description, he added the important selling point.

"Remember, push the fact that we have a limited number of portions for the night. When it's gone, it's gone. Do not come back to the line asking for more after we 86 it. Forty-five portions should sell out fast. Explain to the early diners they have only one opportunity to try this limited portion dish."

They all nodded and commented on how delicious it was as they walked away to resume their duties.

George sat waiting at his corner booth nibbling the falafel. Ellen placed his entree on the table.

"Moroccan spiced Leg of Lamb, served alongside currant, almond and saffron couscous and a Pomegranate watercress salad. Enjoy!" she said, treating him just as any other customer.

George liked that. He also liked the look and aroma of the food on his plate.

Rob watched through the porthole window in the swinging door as George took his first bite. After tasting for only a moment, he stopped eating and took out his cell phone, making a call. Rob wondered why George stopped eating so quickly. Wiping his hands, he walked out to the table as George finished his call.

"So, What do you think?" Rob asked.

George held his arms out wide. "I enjoyed it so much, I called my good friend Safar. I told him he must come and dine here tonight. He would never usually care about our food, but this... This! This is a true taste of home my friend. I nearly forgot how good home tastes."

Rob smiled and thanked him.

"Safar and his wife will be here around eight, Ellen will serve them. Reserve their portions. There will be no charge."

Rob nodded. "I will tell her."

George waved his hand. "No. I will explain to her. He is very traditional and must be treated as a valued guest of honor."

Rob shrugged. "Sure thing."

Forking a chunk of the lamb, George savored it slowly.

"How much did you price this at?" George asked.

"Forty nine dollars." Rob replied.

"We should charge more for a delicious treat this rare," George said between bites. "Restaurants all over the city charge that and more for simple beef steaks... There is no closer flavor of my homeland to be found in this city I am sure. Sixty-nine dollars... It is worth that I am certain."

Rob smiled again with a nod. "I will tell Charley to change the price."

George resumed his meal, waving forkfuls to his nose before slowly savoring the flavors.

Ellen prepared Safar's table to George's instructions. Removing all items off the tabletop, leaving only a bottle of Cristal resting in an ice bucket on the table. The glasses were polished, as was the silverware, wrapped in freshly ironed linens. Even the short vase of vibrant fresh flowers was removed. Ellen found it odd, but didn't ask questions.

George helped Ellen move the adjacent tables farther away from his guest's table. After the tables were situated, he placed a hand on Ellen's shoulder. Looking at her most seriously, he explained his instructions.

"Miss Ellen, please listen closely. Do not ask about refills, appetizers, entrees or desserts. Do not initiate conversation with these guests tonight. Simply serve them silently, unless they ask a question, then reply quickly and with few words. Do not stare at the guests, nor ask if they need anything. Just keep the drinks and food refilled until they stop eating. Bring the food the moment it comes up. And bring the desserts immediately after the entree is finished. Replace the bottle of champagne whenever the one on the table reaches half empty. There will be no charges. If you do just as I instructed, I am certain Safar will reward you well."

Ellen wasn't worried. Any friend of George's, he valued this much, must also be wealthy. Truth be told, Ellen was so thankful for the use of the Lady Jane, she would be happy to serve any of George's special guests for free. As she looked over the bare table, she reminded herself of his unusual requests out loud.

"No talking, no questions, no staring, no ordering, no charges. Keep everything refilled. This will be a breeze. I wish all my tables were like this."

Looking over the table, George stood back from it.

"Ellen, do not let any other table distract you while they are here. On second thought, this must be your only table tonight. I want you waiting on this table with full attention to their every need."

Stone-broke, she didn't like the idea of putting her entire night's pay in the hands of a single two-top table, but she wasn't about to argue with George either. He had been far too good of an employer, and true friend of late.

"I will give them the best, most silent service they will ever have!" she replied smiling.

George nodded. "Very good. Now go tell Charley you will not be on the floor tonight."

Ellen explained her station at George's request to Charley as she stood at the computer terminal.

"Whatever," Charley said, without looking up from the screen. "Since George took over, we got along just fine without you here so far. I think we can manage one more night."

Ellen was about to walk away as she always had when Charley was a bitch to her. But this time she stopped, and turned back.

"Whatever? Charley, whatever your problem is, is the only whatever I know of. I do my job well. I never ask you for help, I don't get complaints and I don't cause problems. Either respect that, or just stop talking to me from now on." Ellen stood firm, waiting for her reply.

Pausing her typing, Charley stared at Ellen, her dark eyes gleaming through her rich mascara.

"Fine," she said turning back to the terminal.

Ellen stepped closer, her hand on her hip. "Fine? Fine what? Fine, you don't speak to me anymore? Or fine, you will treat me like I deserve?"

Charley let out a sigh. "Jesus... Stop with the drama already Ellen."

Ellen waited for a valid reply as Charlie shook her head with frustration.

"I'm sorry Ellen. I didn't mean to be a bitch. I'm just working on this report and I'm getting irritated. I'm actually glad you're here. You're our strongest server, you always were. Everybody knows that," Charley said swiping the screen. "Doesn't do us much good though when George has you tied up on a single table all night again. Two expensive specials and Cristal... Another big check comped' table at that."

Ellen was relived. She knew Charley and George had something going on. The last thing she wanted to do was to make enemies out of Charley. Nonetheless, her days of being insulted and talked down to were over. She was a new woman since her return from Vietnam, a confident strong woman. Something she had never been in her whole life.
Chapter 10

George felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. Looking at the incoming number he saw it was the Harden CEO.

"Hello," he answered calmly.

"Hey there George. Just wanted to tell you things look good. I sent the report into the head office. They like what they see. If all goes well I can have a closing set for... let's say... twenty three days."

Flushed with anger, George paused to calm his tone.

"Of course they liked what they saw. However as I stated at our last meeting, I cannot hold the sale for you that long."

The CEO was concerned. "I asked for a faster closing, but they're not going for it. It's just standard procedure. We have to prepare all the paperwork, the title search and so on. Maybe I could push it through a little faster, no promises mind you."

Not getting the answers he wanted, George added pressure. "I have another interested buyer as well, a cash buyer. He is aware of your offer and assures me he could close in ten days, if I come down to 13.3 million."

He waited without another word for Dan to respond.

"I just can't do that George. It can't be done, even if I push for top priority. I can shoot for fifteen days if that is agreeable."

George sat silent for a moment.

"How soon can you send a letter of intent?" he asked.

The CEO relaxed. "I can send you an intent letter today. I will have the head office draw it up."

George acknowledged. "Very well. Send it via email and overnight a hard copy of the letter with a fifteen day closing and I will honor your offer."

George relaxed after Dan agreed. Pacing the Ship's deck, George called his friend Safar.

"Do you have the info on the lender from New York?" he asked.

Safar assured him he did. "Yes George. I have it ready as you asked."

George took down the information and thanked Safar.

"Good luck my friend," Safar said. "I hope all works out for you."

George lit a cigar as he replied.

"I have all confidence it will. Soon, I will be back home. You must come for a visit after I return."

Safar sighed. "It has been over two years since I have been home. I very much look forward to returning. I need a break from this American lifestyle."

"I understand my friend. Tonight you dine here. We have a very interesting special prepared. I am confident my chef's flavors will remind you of our wonderful land."

Safar agreed he would attend the dinner before making his goodbye.

The next call George made was to The Unknown Caller.

"I need the details on the New York backed lender, a Mr. Neil Rabkin. I will send you what I have on him. You take care of the rest. I need his upcoming meetings, personal schedule, wife, kids, schools, county records, everything. I need it all by tomorrow."

The Caller assured him he would deliver the information on time. Sliding the phone into his pocket, George leaned on the deck railing, the sun warming his face he puffed the cigar in satisfaction.

Excited well-dressed diners began filling The Ship just after six o'clock. The orders stacked up fast, pushing the kitchen to a steady pace by seven. The servers didn't dare make waves for the cooks. They stood patiently at the pass waiting for Rob to push them their orders in turn.

It was only eight by the time the lamb special was half sold out.

"Miguel. Count out the how many portions of lamb are left," Rob yelled.

Miguel poked under the cast iron lid with a fork, counting chunks in his mind.

"I say... maybe twenty."

Rob wrote on the whiteboard; 16 Lamb."

As the servers came and went back out, with arms loaded, he reminded each one.

"Only 16 specials left."

The kitchen printer began spewing orders for more specials; shortly the lamb was sold out. All that remained were the portions reserved for George's guests and two portions for the kitchen crew to share. For an hour prior to Safar's arrival, George continually opened the oven door, tasting the broth out of the black pot.

"I am thinking the flavor couldn't be as my mothers was. Then I taste it again, and I am thinking, perhaps it is. Slightly different than I remember maybe... but this is good. Very good, Rob. If you studied in my country you could easily master this dish quickly. A high compliment for any foreigner I assure you."

Repeating the same procedure several more times, George complimented him each time. Rob worked on, not paying any attention to his interruptions.

"Thanks George," he said casually as he organized orders for the pass.

Testing steaks for doneness with a prod, peaking into the centers of glistening fish filets with a knife tip and swiping sauce with the back of spoons, he tasted one in every two or three dishes as they passed. When all was spot on he called the order out to the servers.

"Order, table 42. One cod, two steaks mid rare, one rib... Heather! Forty-two. Here go, go!"

The servers stacked the plates on strained forearms and rushed out the swinging doors.

Just after eight, Safar arrived at the valet in his black BMW. Escorting his wife Maran, holding the door for her, they walked onto the bustling Ship. George was waiting by the hostess desk.

"Safar, my good friend. Maran, you look very lovely tonight! I have your table ready, please follow me."

George walked the couple to a table in the farthest rear corner of the dining room.

"We have a very special treat for you this evening. First, the appetizer, immediately followed by the main course, the reason I asked you to come tonight. It's an amazing slow roasted lamb. It brings me fond memories of home as I am sure it will you as well."

Leaving the table, George walked straight to Ellen.

"My guests are seated. Please bring the appetizers. Bring the entrees when you remove the appetizer plates. Remember, don't ask questions - only answer questions."

Ellen nodded then sprinted to the kitchen.

"Rob, George's guests are seated. I need their apps."

Rob called out to Miguel. "Amigo, first the hummus then two falafel apps. Lets get em' out now. Micah, you work with Army on the other orders for a minute."

Miguel called back from the grill. "Si Amigo!"

Rob quickly plated a special platter of fresh hummus and pickled vegetables for the valued guests. Stacking and slicing through plate-sized pieces of grilled pita bread, he fanned them onto the platter.

"Man I wish I had a traditional kiln to cook this bread in... Take this one now. Come right back for the falafel," Rob said handing Ellen the platter.

Ellen rushed out as he handed it off. Setting the platter on the table, she smiled as usual, almost asking if they needed anything else. Pausing for a brief second, she realized neither diner had even looked up at her. Walking away, she felt rude dropping off food without a word exchanged.

Back behind the swinging doors, Ellen stood watching as Rob rolled a basket of freshly fried Falafel onto a clean white towel. Rolling them back and forth until all excess oil was absorbed. On a cookie sheet, he dusted them with sea salt. Streaking his best olive oil across the plate, he placed the hot falafel on the platter. Arranging them in a semicircle around a garnish of minced tomato, cucumber, coriander, and chopped parsley, he stood back inspecting the plate. For the finishing touch, carefully spooning out of a sizzling skillet, Rob placed steaming caramelized onions and mushrooms beside the garnish.

Turning the plate, he looked at every nuance. Hands high above the plate, he drizzled crushed pine nuts. With a final swath of olive oil, then quick a squeeze of lemon, he handed it Ellen carefully.

"Keep it level, they will roll off easily. Tell them the garnish is..."

She interrupted. "I can't tell them anything. George said not to speak, only to answer questions. They don't even look at me."

Scowling, Rob threw his arms up.

"Well... Don't them anything then. Either they like it, or they don't."

Pausing, he tweaked the circle of orbs.

"I love this cuisine. I just wish I knew more about it. I can only find info on these dishes online. Not a single place in this city cooks truly authentic Middle Eastern food. I am at a loss to learn more. I guess I would have to go over there to really understand the nuances of their traditional cooking. Serving these people makes me nervous."

Ellen took the plate. "Makes you nervous? Imagine how I feel. I'm not allowed to say a word, or even look at them."

Walking out slower than usual, she steadied the plate, careful not to spill or disturb the circle of golden falafel.

Placing the platter on the table, Ellen noticed the Hummus plate was still nearly intact. She considered leaving it on the table until Safar pointed to it, waving his hand as if to say 'Take it away.'

She took the dish as quickly as she set down the falafel, whisking it from the table without a word. Handing it back into the pass to Rob, she pointed out they had barely touched it.

"Damn! I guess they don't like it," Rob said as he took the plate from her. "I wish George had not invited these people here. They are used to true authentic food. Mine is just a seat of my pants creation complied from web recipes. I had no idea he would invite people used to the real thing here to eat this."

Ellen felt sad for him as she watched his face look sorrowful.

Taking a piece of bread from the platter, Miguel swiped it into the hummus. He chomped into it with his free hand as he turned three steaks on his grill.

"Eets great! If they don't like eet, no problem, fuck em' we will eat eet."

Rob sat the plate beside the grill for Miguel.

"Trust me, it is a problem Miguel. I can't serve things that don't measure up. What was I thinking? Hopefully they like the falafel. I will start plating the lamb."

He shrugged with a look of failure at Ellen through the pass as she walked out back to the table.

Walking past the table with a glance, Ellen noticed they had each ate only a single falafel. Leaving the others abandoned on the plate. Ignoring the platter, they seemed unconcerned about it whatsoever. Pretending to straighten an adjacent table, she paused beside the couple, listening for any sign of their satisfaction, or discontent.

Taking a seat beside Safar, George forked a falafel off the platter.

"How long has it been since you have enjoyed a taste of home?"

Safar looked unimpressed.

"Too long. It looks very good sure. But it tastes like it was made by an American."

George leaned in.

"You want to know a secret?"

The diners leaned in close to him curiously. Ellen strained to listen as she arranged chairs.

"I believe it was made by an American!" George said laughing.

The men laughed. Maran looked irritated, folding her napkin over and again on her lap.

Knowing the entrees would be ready any second, Ellen whisked the falafel away to the kitchen without a word. At the pass, she shrugged as she passed the plate to Rob.

"I overheard him tell George. 'It tastes like an American made it.' I guess that's a bad thing to them."

Rob laughed then shot her a look of disappointment. Ellen simply smiled at him nervously.

"Here, this is the lamb. It's all I have left. If they won't eat this we're fucked," he said as he passed her the entrée plates.

Ellen blew a sigh as she took the plates. "You never know... Maybe they will love it."

Rob shrugged. "After the last two disappointments, I have a feeling that is a long shot. God I wish I could learn to cook authentic Middle Eastern food. It's a cuisine I have next to no experience with, but it's amazingly intriguing."

Arriving at the table with the lamb, Ellen noticed both the diners look up at her for the first time.

"If that tastes as good as it smells, we may finally have a meal before us to enjoy," Safar said as she placed the plates in front of them.

Seeing Safar occupied with his food, Maran shot Ellen a split second smile. Safar pulled off a forkful of tender meat, chewing it slowly, as if testing it for perfection. He said nothing, but the second, larger forkful was the tell that Ellen was looking for.

"At least he ate a second bite this time," she thought as she walked away from the silent diners.

Back in the kitchen, Rob was eager to see her return with news.

"They seem to like it," Ellen said. "They are eating it anyway, silently of course, but at least they didn't wave it off like the other dishes."

Rob hung his head in his hands. "I wish they would just talk to you like normal people! We would know what the fuck is going on."

Ellen agreed. "He seems like a dick, his wife is half afraid to even look at me."

Rob nodded. "Yeah that's probably normal."

Ellen shrugged.

Passing the table, Ellen noticed her diners were working into their lamb with good measure. Safar snapped his fingers as she passed by.

"Wine," he barked, without even looking at her.

She froze. "What kind of wine?" she wondered. "He's so picky, how could I ever choose a wine for them?" Sprinting off, she found George.

"Safar asked for wine. I can't imagine what variety he likes," she said nervously.

George walked with her quickly to the bar.

"Jules. The wine I ordered please. The bottle and two glasses."

Jules handed him a bottle. "The Distributor dropped this off. He said he was out of the one you ordered. This is very similar he said. It's Turkish, it's called Kavaklidere."

George read at the label aloud. "Lal Rose, 2013... It will have to do," he said, handing it to Ellen.

Ellen opened the bottle, nervously walking back to the table with the glasses in hand. As she started to pour the wine into the glass, Safar waved her away again, motioning for her to hand him the bottle.

Pouring the glasses to the rim, he handed one to Maran while he took the other. Tasting it, he smacked his lips. Looking the bottle, he read the label.

"Turkish!" he said to Maran with disapproval.

She shrugged as she took her first drink.

"I think it's fine," she said quietly.

"Of course you do," Safar shot back. "You probably think having a Turkish husband would be fine too, and perhaps Turkish children as well."

She scowled at him. "Calm down Safar, we are in public. It's good wine, what difference does it make where it is from?"

He rolled his eyes, still looking angry as he quickly consumed his half his glass in one fast swallow. Pushing it away, he resumed forking big chunks of lamb into his mouth greedily.

Charley was oblivious to George's guests. Rob's presence in the kitchen had resulted in no food complaints, nor returns for her to deal with. Locked in the office, she sat studying the daily report. The server's mysterious sales and tip outs were still far higher than average. She knew something was amiss, something she could profit from significantly if she could only understand it all. Yet, after over a week of trying, she still could not discover the answer to the mystery.

With several minutes to spare between entrees and dessert, Ellen decided to check her schedule. Finding the office door locked, she knocked, wondering who would lock the door during dinner service.

"What do you want?" Charley yelled through the door over the noisy kitchen.

"It's Ellen, I wanted to check the schedule."

Opening the door, Charley put the computer to sleep as Ellen walked in.

Ellen smiled. "I just wanted to see if I was on the schedule yet."

Charley sat ignoring her as Ellen scanned the employee roster.

"Hey, I'm not on here. I thought I would be by now."

Charley turned to her. "You're not on it because I didn't put you on it. George hired you back not me, he can figure out your schedule."

She turned back to her computer, scanning through endless lines of daily, weekly and monthly data from The Ship's past sales reports. Her frustration caused her to have zero interest in anything to do with Ellen.

"I suppose I will go and ask George then," Ellen said, heading out the door.

Charley jumped up, touching Ellen's elbow.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I am in a frazzle over these reports. Just go back to your old schedule. You worked Tuesday thru Saturday dinners, closing on weekends right?"

Ellen nodded. "Yeah, I have to say that's more closing than I'd like, but it's not a real problem."

Charley pulled her back into the office. "Look, I know you do your job well with no problems. Work whenever you want. You can write your own schedule. How's that?"

Ellen wondered what her angle was. Charley was never nice, nor accommodating in all the years she knew her. But the open schedule she offered was too good to argue about.

"Ellen, are you familiar with these reports?" Charley asked.

Ellen shrugged. "Sure, I always ran my own report and had my money ready so Sandra didn't have to do it for me."

Charley shut the door. "I want you to go over a couple things with me. Do you have time?"

Ellen knew Safar might have a meltdown if he wanted for anything and found Ellen missing.

"After these two guests leave I'm open all night. I can help you then."

Charley smiled and nodded. "Okay, great," she replied, as Ellen dashed back to the table.

Sitting back in his seat, Safar sat with his hands resting on his thighs, elbows out.

"Look my dear Maran, our server has finally returned," he said sarcastically as Ellen walked up.

As Ellen silently gathered the dishes, Safar never spoke another word. Ushering the empty plates off to a bus pan, she jogged to the kitchen.

"Rob! Desserts."

He stopped in the middle of breading a fish filet.

"Miguel, drop that cod for me please."

Washing his hands under the steaming water, he took a towel as he walked back into the big cold storage room.

Returning, he placed a tray of balled cheesecake on the counter. Shaking a few at a time in the icy batter, he slid them into a cast iron pot of hot virgin oil. The orbs instantly turned a rich golden brown, floating to the top in seconds.

Rolling each gently on a towel, he sucked the oil off the crust. With a paintbrush, he swiped a reduction of blueberry, mango, bourbon, apple cider and lime across the platter.

Resting the cheesecake globes in the bold colored sticky swipe, he took a foot long piece of thin wire in hand. Ellen watched as he dipped the wire into a small pan of a spiced caramelized brown sugar. Holding it high above the platter, he laced the tops with thin threads of the sweet golden liquid across the orbs.

With a loud slap of his hands, he clapped a dust cloud of cardamom infused powered sugar across the entire plate. Fanning the platter with towel, he blew off the excess sugar dust, leaving only what was stuck to the sticky strands.

"There you have it. One double portion dessert for two, I hope they like this. I don't have anything else up my sleeve for dessert tonight."

Ellen's mouth watered as she watched in reverence.

"If they don't like this, they aren't human," she said as she whisked it away.

Placing the beautiful dessert in the table's center, she issued each diner a small plate with a new fork & linen. Safar looked intrigued.

"We already tried the falafel. Surely this is not the same dish with a new garnish?"

Ellen spoke for the first time. "No sir. This is our signature dessert. Fried Cheesecake served over a blueberry, mango, bourbon, apple cider and lime reduction. It's laced with a spiced caramelized sugar and finished with a dust of cardamom infused powdered sugar. Enjoy."

She walked away to the bar without another word.

The Ship bustled around her as she stood silently still, watching their faces for tells like a pro player in an All-In Heads-Up Poker Tournament showdown. Maran gave herself away first. Eyes closed, she drew her head back as she savored the first bite. Then leaning forward, still chewing, she sliced off another piece of the golden orb. Safar looked indifferent. However, the pace at which he was devouring the dessert told Ellen all she needed to know.

Putting an arm around Ellen, George stood at her side.

"I didn't exactly get the feeling things went off without a hitch as Rob hoped," Ellen said as they stood watching.

"I have faith the meal was satisfactory. Safar may be hard to please, but his empty plate tells the truth."

George walked to their table with Ellen in tow.

"My friends! What else can I bring you tonight?" he asked.

Maran waved. "Oh George really, we are stuffed from gullet to gut. I found it very delicious."

Safar nodded slowly. "Yes, yes George we can eat no more. I did find it enjoyable. A wonderful treat, this dessert... and most proper service as well."

Ellen was shocked at the remark about her service. He had barely spoken a word to her the entire meal. Not to mention, he waved her off, ignored her and nearly shooed her away.

"I am honored you found our fare a treat. It is my pleasure," George said reverently.

Rising, Safar handed Maran her jacket.

"Goodnight my friend, I hope to see you soon," Safar said.

George shook his hand smiling. Maran tugged Safar's arm, motioning with her eyes towards Ellen.

"Yes, yes of course, the gratuity. The American tradition," he said, fishing out a roll of cash from his pocket.

Peeling off one, then two bills, he paused. Looking at the bills in his hand, then to his wife, he saw her look. With a coaxing glance, Maran urged him to offer more. He added one more hundred-dollar bill and placed the money on the table.

"I'm certain you are being too gracious!" Ellen said, looking at the three crisp hundred dollar bills.

Safar shrugged. "Perhaps by American standards, but not by mine. You were a proper servant to us, I find that rare here in your country. It was just as refreshing as the meal to me."

Maran and Ellen exchanged a quick smile and a friendly glance. Ellen knew it was Maran's look that encouraged Safar to leave the additional hundred. She patted Ellen's arm with a wink as she turned with Safar to leave.

George escorted the couple to the door as Ellen gathered the dishes and glassware, and the three hundred dollar bills. The hostess saw the trio coming towards the door. Quickly she scurried out a package from the hostess desk.

"Chef Rob wanted you to have these as a parting gift."

Safar read the tag on the box. "Oatmeal cookies, with dates, raisins, almonds, honey and cardamom."

Intrigued, he opened the box lid. "Look Maran, they are still warm."

Snatching one out, Safar took a big bite as he walked on. Handing the box to Maran, he focused in on his cookie.

"These are very good," he said, holding it up for George to see. "Tell the Chef I want two dozen more. Perhaps you can bring them over, we should have a visit soon."

George agreed. "Indeed, I will see you very soon my friend."

The valet whipped their black BMW around the circle, stopping even with Maran. Safar opened her door. She slid in, holding her purse. Safar moved into in the driver seat and closed the door. The couple sped off with a wave. George watched until they disappeared. Walking back in, he was thinking about Rob's unexpected parting gift.

"Fresh baked cookies! A wonderful touch, I need to try one of those cookies... they looked... and smelled so inciting... I wonder if Rob made more of..."

Glancing at his watch, George noticed the time, 9:57.

"That's almost seven in California. I may still catch him."

George called the CEO's number.

"Hello George. I bet your calling about that Letter of Intent," Dan answered.

"I am indeed," George replied.

"No problem, I have it here. I will email it as we speak."

George gave him an email address. In a few seconds his email app lit up.

"I see it came though," George said. "I shall look it over, if I have any issues, I will call back. I appreciate your promptness."

Hanging up, George quickly scanned the email. Everything looked just as he had hoped.

The Unknown Caller's phone buzzed. Answering quickly, he didn't bother to say 'Hello'.

"I have what you wanted. Send it, or meet?" he asked right off.

George replied in a near whisper. "Meet, tonight. My place, midnight."

The Caller acknowledged. "See you then."

Pleased, George swiped the phone off.
Chapter 11

Having only the single table, Ellen's closing duties were finished quickly. She helped the other servers with some of their more tedious closing duties to save them time. After she had everything under control, she went back to the office. Knocking on the locked door, Charley answered, opening the door for her.

"So, what are you working on?" Ellen asked, sitting next to her at the desk.

Bringing the report up on the computer, Charley studied the screen.

"I'm trying to find where each server's totals are located."

Ellen pointed out the server total category.

"Duh! I know that Ellen. I mean I want to see every order, every tip, one by one, before it's all added together."

Ellen frowned. Why would you want to see that?" she asked.

Charley answered with a confusing jumble of mumbles. Ellen went on with her explanation nonetheless.

"Well, to see the individual orders, you click 'Admin', then enter the password."

Spinning in her seat, Charley crossed her arms in a huff.

"Password! I don't know the fucking password!"

Ellen laughed. "No wonder you can't edit it then."

Charlie sat back, arms crossed with a scowl on her face. "I don't know what it is, do you?"

Ellen thought for a minute. "Well, it used to be 'Fanny', Sandra's dog."

Charley typed it in. The screen flashed. This time a cursor appeared in the row of numbers.

Ellen was relieved. "Oh Good! That's it. We would be screwed if that didn't work. Now, click 'Check Adjust'... And just scroll down to the server's number."

Charley's expensive nails clicked the computer keys quickly. Ellen watched as the screen loaded.

"Now, click 'Detail Report'. Choose the check number you want...then click 'Edit' and you can adjust each ticket individually."

The screen flashed again, loading a long list of individual check numbers, check totals and tip amounts. Charley beamed with satisfaction.

"How do I change the end total? You know, like for when I to void something off a check after it has been cashed out," Charley asked.

Ellen went on to explain.

"Just put your cursor on the figure you want to change and right click. It will highlight the items and tip. Then type the new numbers in."

Charley followed her instructions, smiling as the numbers lit up in blue. Ellen pointed to the screen.

"Now you can adjust that entry any way you need to. But don't forget once you change it you can't go back and default to what is was, so you better write down the original numbers in case you need them. Once you change those numbers, the old ones are gone forever. If your changes don't add up to the credit card totals, you can't balance the card machine. If it's a cash sale, it will affect the server's end of shift cash out amount, including their tip out total."

This was exactly what Charley was trying to understand for over a week.

Reading over the recent sales totals, Ellen scanned the screen as Charley wrote down the steps to adjust the tickets. Ellen couldn't believe the numbers she was seeing.

Pointing, Ellen commented on the inflated sales. "Wow! That server had... over four hundred bucks in tips! On a Wednesday... That's amazing."

Charley quickly realized she didn't want Ellen reading the report.

"Yeah that was a night when George gave away almost every meal, he comped' entire tables, drinks, desserts, everything. It was thousands of dollars. The guests were tipping like mad when they were told they had no bill."

Standing in mid-sentence, she turned to Ellen.

"Thanks Ellen, that's all I needed. I will be fine on my own now."

Charley stood by the door, holding the handle, silently encouraging Ellen out of the office.

"Okay, sure thing Charley. I'm glad I was able to help. If you need anything else, just ask," Ellen said as she stepped through the door.

Charlie feigned a smile as Ellen walked out into the kitchen. Rob watched as she came out of the room, Charley stood behind as Ellen walked away, closing the door with her eyes locked onto Rob's in a dead stare.

Tossing his towel to the bin, Rob walked Ellen to the door.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yep! I had an easy night," Ellen replied. "Don't you have to clean?" she asked.

Rob shook his head. "Nope. Thanks to Maria we are all ready to go."

Ellen smiled. "Sounds good to me. It puts you home earlier with me, right where I want you to be," she said as she squeezed him around the waist.

After clocking out, they walked to the curb to hail a cab home to the Lady Jane. Across town, the doorman buzzed George's apartment.

"You have a visitor sir. He says he's expected but didn't give me a name."

George pushed the talk button. "Send him up please Mathew."

Entering the room, The Caller took a seat on the sofa. George sat across from him, a drink in his hand.

"Do you have what I asked for?" George asked.

The Caller nodded as he took out a flash drive from his pocket.

"You'll find everything on there. Meeting schedules, county records, his calendar, his wife's schedule, info of his children and their families, three in all. Their information is on there as well."

George placed the drive into his laptop. "Very Good. Very good indeed, I am pleased you were so thorough."

Placing his tablet on the table, George handed The Caller a thick stack of banded bills.

"This is for up to today, the real payoff will come soon after the plan is complete."

The Caller pocketed the cash, not bothering to count the exact amount. He knew George always rewarded him well for his work.

"We need a date with Mr. Rabkin..." George said as he read the screen.

Walking to the bar, The Caller made a drink.

"Any ideas?" The Caller asked.

George scanned the man's appointment schedule.

"I see here he has a date next Saturday, at Jag's Steakhouse... Eight o'clock in Fields Ertle."

The Caller sipped his drink as George read on.

"His wife has the same on her calendar. Reservations for two... It appears they will be dining alone. This may be my opportunity..."

The Caller took a seat on the sofa with his drink. "Do you need me there?" he asked as he sipped.

George stepped to the bar to refill his glass. Walking slowly, he poured a drink, deep in thought.

"Yes, of course. After all, Jag's is popular steakhouse, you enjoy a good steak as much as anyone else correct?" George replied, waving him out to the patio.

The Caller followed George through the sliding doors.

"Sure. Why not? Blind dates are always so much fun," The Caller replied.

George nodded at him with a smile.

"Running The Ship day to day has enlightened me to many aspects of the restaurant business. Saturday night will be their busiest night. I will book a party of twelve. That will require three tables. The last minute reservation will delay them from seating their guests as quickly as usual. If Mr. Rabkin is delayed being seated, he will no doubt be aggravated. I will let him sweat out the wait then offer him one of my empty tables. He would be a fool to say no. That will get him close to us for the evening."

Raising his eyebrows, The Caller nodded in appreciation for George's subtle plan to catch his prey off guard.

"What will the restaurant say when they see there is only the two of us and not ten other guests?"

George waved him off. "I will explain that my invitations were lost. An email issue perhaps. It won't matter anyway. I will order expensive champagne the moment we are seated, that will allow me quite some time to pass before they insist they will have to seat my empty tables. By then, Mr. and Mrs. Rabkin will be seated with us. I will have no concern who they seat in my empty tables after that."

Finishing his drink, The Caller took the empty glass to the bar.

"It's a subtle move. No one would see it coming. Rabkin will simply assume you are merely a helpful stranger, offering him the only open table in a crowded busy restaurant. Question is, what then?"

George smiled. "Then? Then, I will draw him into my plan like a moth to flame. After he hears my dilemma, he will be powerless to resist the urge to offer me what I want. He will undoubtedly seize the moment to his advantage. I know these Wall Street lenders well my friend. They can never resist the opportunity to make a fast dollar from a wealthy man in need of a short-term loan. Their banks have built a worldwide empire doing just that."

Thumbing his phone, The Caller walked to the door.

"Saturday then. Should I pick you up?" he asked.

"Yes," George replied. "You will drive, I will introduce you as my brother Azad. I will work out the details of the story by then. After I finalize my plan, I will fill you in on the details along the ride to the steakhouse."

The Caller nodded as he twisted the silver door handle. "I will pick you up at say... seven?"

George shook his head. "No, six. I want to be certain I arrive before he does."

The Caller nodded and disappeared out the door. As The Caller left, George sat back on the sofa. Crossing his legs, he slowly studied the information The Caller collected closer.

"Mr. Neil Rabkin... What can I find here that moves you?" he said to himself as he sipped his wine.

"What could motivate this man to be determined to offer me twelve million dollars?"

Scanning over the hundreds of documents The Caller had collected on The Rabkin family, George noticed a recently dated court disposition.

"What is this?" he said under his breath.

"Catherine Rabkin vs. Neil Rabkin Jr."

George was intrigued. He read the details as he paced the patio, cigar in hand.

"The court finds for the plaintiff in the matter of divorce... Catherine Rabkin awarded the property and estate located at 7117 Indian Hill Rd..."

Switching to a web browser, George looked up the property records in the county auditor site.

Reading the property report intently, he hit on a possible lead.

"Could this be the motivation I seek?" he whispered as he read the records.

"Deed transferred on June 22nd 2009. Transferred from Neil Rabkin Sr., to Neil Rabkin Jr... With no purchase price... interesting."

Searching the county marriage records, George found more to the story.

"Marriage license issued... Neil Rabkin Jr. and Catherine Nippert, May 10th 2009."

Puffing his cigar, he thought about the dates.

"So, this property was a wedding gift to Neil's son. Now, it has been awarded to Catherine in the divorce. I have never met a Jewish woman named Catherine... She could be a gentile. Losing such a valuable family heirloom property, to a gentile no less... Rabkin must be bitter over this for certain."

Searching the auditor site again, he traced the history of the home.

"1945... Just after the war..." he said out loud. "Hiram Rabkin listed as original owner. Then in 1967, it was transferred to Neil Rabkin.... No purchase price... This was Hiram's wedding gift to his son perhaps? Yes... Of course! Neil gifted it to Jr. as a wedding gift, just as Hiram had gifted it to him on his wedding day. Now it has been lost to the family forever in a divorce. He must be very upset over losing a property such as that. I wonder... What is the value?"

Searching the tax records he read the number... $2,890,000.

"And such a valuable home as well. That must have been a tragic loss to himself and his family. This... this is what I was looking for. This will do perfectly."

Taking a seat, George relaxed. Puffing his cigar, his imagination conjured up the tale he would weave to coax Neil into his twelve million dollar trap.
Chapter 12

Over the next week, things went smoothly for all aboard The Ship. Maria, Ellen and Rob were enjoying life on the Lady Jane. Maria's new job was easy to her and she was learning quickly. The crew was impressed with her hard work ethic, her tireless drive to learn and eagerness to help wherever she was needed. Her efforts gave the entire kitchen crew a lighter workload in their daily duties.

The tight group was put off at first by her silence. They had rarely heard her speak a word. But over the course of the week, they had come to respect her as a valued addition to the crew. Miguel and Armando were often seen chatting with Maria on the deck during breaks. She welcomed their attention as they asked her an onslaught of questions about her homeland and previous life.

Charley's new found tip swipe scam was richly paying off to the tune of over five hundred a night. No one seemed the wiser. George was in good spirits as he had the Harden Group committed to buying The Ship. Not to mention, he had finished fine-tuning his trap for Neil Rabkin. The servers and bartenders were reaping the rewards of George's extra tip outs to balance his false orders. From bow to stern, all was well with the crew of The Good Ship Cincinnati.

The deep red Saturday afternoon sun faded into the river. Across town, Mr. Rabkin was dressing for the dinner party, his wife insisting that he wear a tie for the occasion.

"A Tie? Shmy! Why do I need a tie, we are just going to dinner. I'm not wearing it," he said in a huff as he swiped the tie from his neck.

Not wanting to cause a fight before the rare night out alone, she tucked it in her purse as they headed to the car.

Pulling into the valet circle at the Jag's Steakhouse, George waited for The Unknown Caller to open his door. The Caller knew George wasn't acting arrogant; it was all part of his show, a well-rehearsed play of power. The doorman greeted them as they stepped to the glass doors. George subtlety folded a hundred dollar bill for the hostess.

"Achmed party, we have reservations," he said passing her the folded bill.

She took the money without noticing the denomination at first. As she scanned her reservation book, she looked at the bill in her hand. With a look of sudden surprise, she smiled up at George.

"Thank you sir! Thank you very much. I see your reservation for a party of twelve. Yes, we have you tables ready. Please come this way," she said, smiling as she walked George and The Caller to their table.

"I will seat your guests promptly when they arrive," she said, beaming a smile again.

"Very well," George said. "Some of the guests may arrive a little late. How late, I cannot say for certain."

The girl shrugged. "Not a problem sir. I will keep an eye out for them."

The Caller was dressed in an expensive black Armani suit. Sitting next to George, he scanned the faces in the crowd. A server walked quickly to the table.

"Hey guys, I'm Carly, I will be your server tonight. Would you like a drink while you wait for the rest of your party to arrive?"

George waved her closer. "Tonight is a celebration. We shall begin with a bottle of Cristal for our table. A 2002 vintage if you have it."

"I believe we do," Carly replied, nodding with a smile. In a blink, she shot off to ring in the pricey drink order. Standing at the terminal, she nudged a waiting server next to her.

"Two guys from my party of twelve just sat down. They started off with a bottle of Cristal. Specifically a 2002... Tell me these guys don't have money."

The waiting server shot Carly a surprised look. "Damn. If they keep buying shit like that you will make a fat stack off that party."

Carly smiled slyly as she dashed to the bar to fetch the champagne. Arriving back at the table with the bottle and glasses, she presented it in a bucket of ice.

"Would you care for appetizers while you wait?"

George shook his head. "Not quite yet. I prefer to enjoy this fine beverage for now. Please allow us a few moments to savor our drinks. After my party arrives we will begin ordering."

With a fast nod, Carly left to attend to her other tables.

"I need to buy us as much time as possible before they realize our 'guests' are not arriving at all," George said to The Caller. "Otherwise, they will seat the tables. With any luck, my empty extra tables will put Mr. Rabkin on an agonizing wait,"

The Caller poured a glass of the fizzy Cristal as he nodded. "It's early, and already this place is packed. I have a feeling those vacant tables will set them back for sure."

George agreed as he sipped his glass.

Jag's was quickly filling up to capacity. Diners were being shuffled to the bar area as they waited to be seated. By seven thirty, George's still vacant tables put the restaurant even deeper into a wait. Mr. & Mrs. Rabkin arrived, expecting their reservations would allow them to walk straight in to a seat.

The hostess greeted the couple in the lobby. "Rabkin... Yes, I see your reservation here. "I'm very sorry but it will be just a few minutes before a table is open. You can always enjoy a cocktail at the bar while you wait," The bubbly hostess said as she feigned enthusiasm.

"How long are we talking here?" Neil shot back at her, cold and serious.

"Well, I don't know for certain, I would think fifteen minutes, maybe twenty," she replied.

Looking at his wife, he let out a loud sigh.

"Twenty minutes! Then it will be a half hour. How long after that before we see a menu? Then we will have an even longer wait for the food. It will be at least an hour later before we see any food. I should have never agreed to come here," he huffed to his wife as he waved the hostess off.

Mrs. Rabkin wasn't embarrassed at his remarks. They had been married for forty-eight years, she was quite used to his impatience and rude frankness. Dealing with his insensitive demeanor was her daily routine.

Ignoring the rude comments, the hostess stared blankly at her reservation book as Neil complained.

"This is crazy, I'm not waiting an hour to eat," he said with a growl.

"Settle down and be patient," his wife shot back in a whisper. "We can wait at the bar and have some wine until our table is ready. Wine will do you good."

He grumbled as she rubbed his back. "I don't want any wine. What's so special about this place anyway? Fifteen minutes, we will wait a half-hour at least to be seated. You'll see..." he mumbled.

Mrs. Rabkin looked over at the hostess with high browed politeness.

"We will wait in the bar. Seat us as soon as you can please. Thank you," she said, taking Neil's arm as she nudged him towards the lounge.

Taking the only two seats remaining, they sat far from the bar by the patio doors. Neil scanned the crowd. People were already lined up three deep along the bar.

"Not a single person here has on a damn tie! You would dress me like a funeral director if I let you..."

Ignoring him, she studied the wine menu. "Neil will you please just calm down. You always act as if going out to dinner is some terrible task you have to suffer through. We haven't been out in four months. I think you can handle a half hour wait," she whispered as she read the list.

Stopping at their table, the cocktail server smiled. "Can I get you a drink folks?"

Mrs. Rabkin scanned the menu again. "I think we will go with a bottle of the Mount Eden Chardonnay Santa Cruz Mountains," she replied.

"Very good choice," the server said, before jogging off.

Neil leaned close to his wife. "Why would you choose that wine?" he asked gruffly. "There's a hundred wines on that list, and you choose a whole bottle of some wine you've never heard of."

Fumbling in her purse, she looked up at him. "It reminded me of Eden Park. You know how pretty Eden Park is this time of year," she replied with a smile.

Neil stared at her in aggravation, saying nothing.

"I'm just kidding Neil," she teased. "The description was filled with flavors I like... melon, honeysuckle, fig... It sounded good to me. It's supposed to be vibrant."

He sat staring at the crowd. "I think your head is vibrant. It's vibrating off it's rocker it's so vibrant. 'Honeysuckle... What's next? Rose petal wine?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Neil turned away from her.

"How much is it anyway?" he asked, turning back.

"I have no idea. I didn't ask, the menu didn't say," she replied.

Spinning around in his chair, he shot her an angry scowl.

"You ordered something with no idea what it costs? So you are fine with paying whatever price they choose to slap on it? That is ridiculous. What if they say it is a hundred dollars! What then? You think they wouldn't? They are just waiting for sucker like you to come along. One born every minute... You're just like your mother."

Turning back towards the crowd, Neil sat near fuming over the wine, beads of sweat forming on his shiny bald head. His wife pursed her lips as she leaned back in her seat crossing her legs, one foot shaking nervously. She had hoped her long awaited night out would be relaxing. Neil was well on his way to ruining any chance of that.

George had been watching the couple closely through the crowd since they sat down in the bar. As the server brought their wine, George noticed Neil didn't pour himself a glass.

Returning to George, Carly asked if he had any idea when his party would arrive.

"I expect them any minute. I appreciate your patience. I realize you are very busy," he answered.

Carly wasn't sure how to reply. "I understand. It's just that we are on a wait already, this is prime dinner hours and Saturdays are always super-busy. My manager will be wanting a timeline, or he will likely move you to a two top so we can seat waiting guests at these empty four tops."

George asked her for just five more minutes. "If they are not here by then, come back and we will make other arrangements. I apologize for the delay, if you can give me just a few more minutes I would very much appreciate it. And please, bring another bottle, as this one is running low," he said, pointing to the bottle of Cristal.

Delighted with a second high dollar order, Carly didn't press the issue. "Sure sure, no problem. I will be right back with that."

George smiled to her with a nod.

The Caller nudged him. "Your lender looks like he is getting pretty impatient. I doubt he can hold out five more minutes."

George laughed. "When she comes back with the champagne, I will tell her to offer him seats at our table.

The minutes passed by painfully slow for Neil.

"It's been over twenty minutes since we arrived," he barked, wiping his forehead. "That girl said, 'twenty minutes, maybe' I told you it would be a half hour or more. Finish that wine and let's go somewhere else."

His wife shot him stare. "Don't be ridiculous. I can't chug a bottle of wine in five minutes. I'm not wasting it either. Besides, there is nowhere else to go. Do you want to walk into another restaurant with no reservations after eight on a Saturday night? It will just take even longer if we leave. Just relax and try the wine. It's really good."

Neil shook his head. "I am not waiting another minute. I'm not kidding, there is no way the food here is worth all this bother."

Mrs. Rabkin knew she couldn't hold him off much longer. Drinking her wine, she felt dread sink in over knowing they would leave, drive through a few crowded restaurant parking lots and end up spending the night at home as usual. She would probably even have to cook a quick meal. Then wash the dishes after Neil headed off to bed. Her hopes of a nice dinner out were crashing fast.

Returning with the Cristal, Carly smiled with a nervous look.

"I see no one else has arrived yet. I'm very sorry, but my manager insists we have to seat the tables. I have a great two top for you over by the bar."

George waved her closer. "I understand. You are very busy and I do not want to hold up your progress any longer."

She smiled and relaxed, happy that he was not demanding to hold the empty tables any longer.

Before she turned to take them to another table, George pointed to the bar.

"Do you see that couple there beside the patio door? The man there, in the blue jacket, and the woman in the green dress?"

Carly nodded as she looked across the crowd.

"Would you ask that couple if they would like to be my guests and sit here with us? I would be delighted to keep this table, and if I had two more guests to fill these seats, you wouldn't have any reason to move my brother and I to a smaller table. If my party hasn't arrived by the time my new guests and I are ready to order appetizers, then you can seat my other tables as you please."

Carly nodded slowly. "I could certainly ask. I have no idea if they would agree, but I will ask for sure."

George watched as Carly approached the Rabkins. He studied the look on their faces as Carly pointed towards George and The Caller. George smiled at them with a wave as she explained George's unusual offer. Carly nearly had to step out of the way as Neil jumped off his seat.

"Of course we would like to be seated now. I don't care who you seat us next to," he said laughing loudly.

Mrs. Rabkin spoke as she took her wine and rose off her seat. "Thank you young lady, we would be delighted to meet our gracious companion."

Neil shot her a look. "Companion! Now you're trying to make a companion? What's next? Invite the man and his wife to our house for cocktails? What will you two talk about? How hard it is to get a weekend hair dye appointment, or where to get the best massages?"

"No Neil. If - he even has a wife, and if she is like most other married women, we will likely talk about our husbands. How demanding they are, how stubbornly right they think they are, and how completely incapable they are of managing for a week without us. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Neil walked to the table silently thinking about the possibility that she was telling the truth. "What then?" he wondered.

George and The Caller rose as Carly seated the couple at the table.

"Hello. I am George Achmed, I am pleased to meet you," he said, holding out his hand.

Neil shook it quickly and sat down. "Neil Rabkin, this is my wife Abby. We appreciate your kindness. This place is terribly busy. I was ready to leave."

Mrs. Rabkin agreed as she sat down, scooting her chair under the table. "Yes we are very appreciative..."

Neil spoke over her. "Were you expecting guests that didn't show?" he asked.

George held out his arms. "I am thinking my new email has failed me. I sent out invites to a ten friends, but here we sit alone, except for my brother Azad. He is visiting and staying with me. I reserved tables for twelve, yet now we are still waiting by ourselves. When I realized we would be dining alone, I thought perhaps someone with a long wait might take me up on my offer to share our table so we wouldn't be moved to the noisy bar area."

Neil nodded. "I'm sorry your party didn't get the invites, but I'm glad we were able to get these seats. I don't want to sit in that bar either."

Frowning, Mrs. Rabkin felt bad for George. "Oh that's a shame your friends are missing your party. Is this your birthday?"

George smiled. "No, tonight was to be a celebration. I have sold my business and I am retiring."

Neil raised his eyebrows. "Good for you. It takes a hell of lot to retire today than it did forty years ago I can tell you that. You must have made a pretty penny."

George nodded sheepishly. "I am proud to say I did. Now, I look forward to moving back to my homeland and devoting all my time to what is dear to me, my wife to-be and the new life ahead of us."

Hearing of the love interest, Mrs. Rabkin perked up. "So... you have a fiancée? Will she be coming tonight?"

Neil shot her a look. George hung his head as he leaned forward.

"Sadly. She cannot. She doesn't know I am going to propose yet. And I cannot propose until I have a suitable home to offer her and our future family to come. I am holding off until next week to find out if my plans go through before I ask her to be my wife."

The conversation took a silent twist.

"I am so sorry to hear she won't be coming," Mrs. Rabkin said. "I would have liked to meet her."

Neil took a sudden interest in his menu. George clapped his hands loudly, making both the Rabkins jump in their seats.

"I came here to celebrate. So tonight the four us we will feast!"

The Caller poured the Rabkins glasses of champagne as George began to toast the table.

"To new beginnings, and forgiveness of the past."

"I second that," Neil said.

"I should hope so," his wife said to Neil in a whisper as she held her glass up to the toast.
Chapter 13

On the Cincinnati riverfront, Saturday night was rushing by fast and furiously aboard The Good Ship. Servers hustled, working up sweats as they jogged in a constant haste. The brigade behind the line worked at the fastest pace possible while still preserving quality. Every burner was covered with sizzling pans. Every inch of flaming grill space sandwiched with smoking meat. Everyone was pushed to the limit. No one on the busy crew even noticed George was not onboard, no one except Charley.

Chained to the server terminal, Charley found herself locked into never ending ticket adjustments, server demands, guest demands, bartender demands, urgent demands for keys to locked stocks as well as her usual duties. She was working harder than any night in the past.

With George missing, and with her newfound password, she had undisturbed access to the Ship's computer. Yet, she couldn't manage a single second to take the time to use it. All she could hope for now was time after closing. Uninterrupted, she could dig deeper into the mystery of the rapidly inflating sales, assuming George didn't reappear.

Heather ran to Charley side with panic on her face.

"Charley! These guys have a $786 dollar tab and they are insisting I accept Euros for their check. I don't know what to do with a Euro. You need to talk to them, I've tried but they won't listen...Please Charley, you have to come and make them pay me."

Charley snatched the check from the Heather's hand. Stomping across the dining room in her usual fast trot, she stopped beside the table.

"Hello. I'm Charley, the general manager. I understand you wish to pay your check in Euros?"

A red-faced semi-drunk blonde man at the end of the table spoke up. "Of course! It's legitimate currency. Its value is more stable than your American dollar," he replied, laughing to his friends at the table. The other men laughed along with him, as they sat eyeing Charley. Charley stood staring, a smirking smile came across her glossy lips.

"It's legitimate currency in your country. But here in ours, we prefer American money. Everything else is basically worthless to try to spend. They will accept your Euro at the bank perhaps. But this is not a bank. This is a restaurant. You're finished eating, we need the table, so it's time to cash out... With American cash, or a credit card. That's all we accept."

Staring at the arrogant blonde man, Charley stood still, a hand on her hip. Her coal black eyes never blinked as she watched in silence for his reply. He looked at the woman on his right. She was glancing at him with obvious doubt on her face. Charley could see it in her eyes. They both knew his bluff had been just called.

Smugly, he shrugged. Charley stood staring in her glare. Turning his eyes towards the woman next to him, she couldn't even make eye contact from embarrassment. Ignoring him, she opened her purse, fishing through the pockets mindlessly, as if searching for some lost item.

The blonde man rolled his eyes with a sigh. Charley heard him mumble something about 'Stupid Americans' to his friends as he reached into his breast pocket. Like a Casino card dealer, he flicked a black credit card across the table.

Charley smiled. "That will do just fine. Thank you for dining with us this evening. I hope you enjoyed your meal."

Turning away, she left Heather to snatch up the card, dashing to follow behind her. Taking the check from Heather's hands, Charley mentioned adjusting the bill.

"I'm adding a 20% gratuity before you ring that out."

Heather protested. "No Charley. People hate that. I get better tips when I don't add that silly gratuity. I never do it."

Charley shot her stare with cold black eyes. "Fine. You do what you want. If I were you, I would add it now while you still can. Euro bastards like that never tip. Ask any of the servers. You'll get five bucks if you're lucky, trust me, I've seen it too many times."

Heather looked torn. "Well, okay I guess... If you think..."

"I think yes. I say we add it in while we still can," Charley insisted.

As her long red nails clicked across the terminal screen, Charley added the tip and processed the card, printing a new ticket, tip included.

"Drop the receipt, smile, thank them and walk the fuck away," Charley said, handing Heather the ticket.

Taking the receipt with a fast nod, Heather headed back to the table.

Charley paused at the terminal. It was getting late. "Where was George?" she wondered. She had not seen him all day. She couldn't help but wonder why he had not called. He had not invited her to his apartment tonight. Nor did he even mention getting together with her in the past two days. She didn't expect him to be dedicated to her this early in their relationship. But she did expect him to want sex. Yet it had been days now since their last liaison. Now, he was unexplainably missing on a Saturday night. It all made her nervous.

The thought that George had shown interest in her just to lure her into the manager position crossed her mind. The job was far worse than her server position in many ways. Her schedule went from five hours a day, three to four days a week as a server, to ten or twelve hours a day, six days a week as manager. The pay was the same, or less than the servers were taking home, mostly it was less.

She had struggled at first with the responsibilities that came with the new position. Now, she was feeling more secure in the role, but she realized the job was way too tedious of a step backward from her previous server position. If not for disappointing George, and the potential of the skim, she would quit as manager for certain.

She wasn't about to waste her time working all those hours, days on end, for the check she was taking home. Her server tip skim was working well. Between all the servers on the floor, she could manage to add a serious bonus for herself. But how long could the skim go on? She knew something was off. Her natural born hustler's sixth sense told her that the clock was ticking down. Soon she would have to make a change, or make a run for it. She knew she needed to cover her tracks with great care.

Walking down a lily-lined aisle to an altar with George had been her motivation in the beginning, now she had her doubts. George wasn't falling head over heels for the passionate porn star style sex she was using to reel him in with. If he were to lose interest, he may fire her as well. She knew she needed the skim to secure her if she were to be cast off. The uncertainty of it all gave her many anxious moments.

Tonight, she felt a dire need to dig deeper and figure out why the numbers were so unusually high. It could be no coincidence that since the very day George took over, the numbers skyrocketed. No doubt The Ship was busier now thanks to Rob's unbridled creations, but not by the amount the numbers had shot up.

"What is George really up to? What did he have to hide? And how could it benefit her relationship with him?" she wondered.

Desperate to find out, she needed to learn his secret and secure a trusted position with him. That would get her one step closer to that golden Arabian altar and all the wealth that came with it.

The night raged on furiously. In The Ship's hot hectic kitchen, dishes rattled, pans clanked, and flames soared as the cooks cranked out the orders. In the dining room, the servers worked relentlessly. Dashing and jogging with heavy trays in hand, loaded with heavy porcelain plates topped with Chef Rob's cuisine transformed their shift into a comprehensive cardio workout.

Amongst the hustle of servers, only Ellen appeared calm as she went about her duties with a casual pace. Charley saw her chatting with Jules at the bar.

"Hey Ellen. Do you have any plans for tonight?" Charley asked, as she slid through the crowd beside her.

"Not really, just going home to have bite to eat with Rob and Maria," Ellen replied.

Charley shot her a fake smile. In her most polite tone, she asked for her help again.

"Will you have time to run through some reports with me? I want to print a profit and loss statement from the day George took control until now. I need an up to date comparison from what we did in the past right up to today."

Ellen was surprised. Not only at her tone, but at the unlikely interest in her job. She never would have imagined Charley would be willing to stay late working on profit and loss reports.

"Sure Charley. I can stay for a bit. Rob may not be ready to leave as early as I will anyway. I can help you until he is ready to head out."

Flashing her fake smile again, Charley thanked her and dashed off. Deciding to make sure she had enough time with Ellen, she thought of a reason to delay Rob's closing duties. Walking into the kitchen, she closely inspected the line, the dish room, then the walk-in. Returning to the pass, she snapped at Rob.

"We need to get this place looking perfect for tomorrow. I have an inspection coming. I need you to get your crew cleaning the whole kitchen when the rush dies down. It needs to be perfect, the walk-in, and the dish room, all of it. I need you to see to it. I will look it over before you leave."

Rob placed an order of still sizzling shrimp in the pass in front of Charlie's face. With fast fingers she snatched one off the top. Biting the stolen shrimp, she walked back out into the dining room without another word. Rob watched in aggravation.

"Miguel! Tell Army to take Maria and start cleaning as soon as we die down. From the back to the front, tell him to make it perfecto. Start with the walk-in".

After turning several steaks on the flaming grill, Miguel dashed back to the dish room.

"Bitch," Rob mumbled. "Tells me in the middle of Saturday night rush we have an inspection... on a Sunday morning? The Health Department isn't even open on Sundays. Stupid bitch... How the hell did she get this job anyway? Never mind, I remember. It's those legs, those lips and..."

Maria and Armando cleaned as the cooks worked through the orders. Even though Rob knew there was no inspection, he and the crew were proud to show Charley the kitchen was in inspection condition on any given day. The unexpected delay would afford Charley extra time with Ellen on the computer. With George away, this was a rare opportunity to finally discover the secret to the mystery.
Chapter 14

A jazz trio beat out an improvisational version of "Mack the Knife" across the Jeg's dining room. The tip tap of the snare blended with the bassists groove, setting the momentum for the staff and diners. Carly bounced in time over to George's table to take their orders.

"Ah... here is our lovely server Carly," he said as she walked up. "I am so happy to have your pretty smiling face serving us tonight."

Blushing at his forwardness, she smiled nervously. "Would anyone care for an appetizer?" she asked, still flushed.

Leaning back, George smiled. "Of course we would," he said, quickly interrupting her embarrassment. "Appetizers all around. I despise sushi, but with that exception bring us your finest appetizers."

She looked at the four diners, then back to him. "All of them?"

He nodded. "Yes, bring us all of your best appetizers, I wish to sample everything you have to offer."

Raising her eyebrows, she smiled. "Okay sir, No sushi, our best apps. I will get the order in right away. Another bottle for the table?"

George put his arm around her waist. "There is no need to ask if we need more drinks each time you come to the table. Simply bring another whenever our bottle is half empty."

Her smiling face turned serious as she hurried off with a nod to bring more champagne and enter the over-the-top appetizer order.

Mrs. Rabkin stared knowingly at Neil as he squirmed in his seat. She knew George's unusual order would have him reeling in disgust. Neil had never once ordered an appetizer, even at her insistence. George's indulgent splurging would no doubt sit uneasy with him. She watched him closely, interested to see his reaction.

"Some of these appetizers are almost twenty dollars," Neil said as he read the menu.

George laughed. "My new friends, there is no need to concern ourselves with prices tonight. This is a celebration! It calls for indulgence without remorse. Please, let us sample all this chef has to offer. Perhaps, we will find something the kitchen does fantastically, perhaps not. Either way, we feast, we drink, we enjoy. That is my humble request of you."

Mrs. Rabkin blushed with a red-faced smile. George was a shining beacon of light in her usual dull argumentative evening's out. That fact that he could overcome Neil's frustrating frugalness so easily was refreshing to her, and also exciting.

Almost immediately, an expediter placed a creamy spinach artichoke dip on the table, crispy fried yucca and crostinis sat alongside.

Mrs. Rabkin swiped a piece into the cheesy mix. "This is fantastic," she said as she nibbled the steaming spinach mixture.

Staring at Neil with teasing eyes, she slid Neil a portion to sample. Chewing into it, he nodded.

"It's pretty good. Can't say I'd ever pay eleven dollars for it, but it's tasty, for a chip dip... You say you sold your business?" Neil asked.

His wife shot him a scowl. "Not now Neil. We are here to have a lovely dinner. Can we please not talk business for once?" she asked, cutting him off.

George took his cue. "It is fine my dear. I am excited to talk about it, assuming you don't mind of course."

With a nodding shrug from her, George answered Neil's question.

"I have sold my beautiful restaurant, I am sad to see it go, but I am a very happy man. Soon I plan to marry and retire in my homeland."

Neil listened as he continued with his scrumptious spinach. "Hard thing to do these days. Tough times to retire in," he shot back without looking.

"Retiring was not the hard part," George said frankly. "It's moving forward that is my dilemma."

The Caller suddenly spoke up for the first time. "Yes. Mine too," he said quietly.

Neil looked at them curiously as he picked through an artisan cheese plate. George noticed Neil's interest in the food.

"I believe we should order now, before the kitchen gets any busier," George said, looking around the room for Carly.

She saw his look from several tables away and jogged over in seconds.

"Ready for entree orders? Or would you prefer I just order one of all of those as well?" she asked with a laugh.

George pointed at her with a wink. "You are a wild cat Carly. I like your claws. Please, allow my guests to order first while I make my final decision."

Carly scribbled the Rabkin's orders into her book. The Caller ordered next.

"The Big Oscar, medium, no blood," he said, handing her the menu.

Turning, Carly faced George.

"The Chateaubriand," he said, handing her the menu.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "That's an eighteen ounce roasted tenderloin dinner designed for two," she said, staring.

"Then I am sure to be well satisfied with the portion. The flavor and quality however, remains to be seen," George replied, holding up his hands laughing.

She laughed with him as she repeated the orders.

"One Big Oscar no blood and one Chateaubriand... for two."

Pausing, she afforded them opportunity to change their mind. As everyone nodded, she gathered the menus.

"Very good, I will get your orders in immediately."

Mrs. Rabkin noticed George admiring Carly's form as her youthful hips swooshed away. She watched his eyes follow the sexy server until she disappeared from view.

"So George... You are planning to get married?" she asked coyly.

"Very soon," he replied. "After I return home we will plan our wedding. My only regret is that my ultimate wish of returning to my treasured family estate may not come to pass. Of course we can find another home, but this one has intangible beauty, deep history, old world grandness... it is a family heirloom."

Leaning forward, he whispered. "This is more than an estate, this is a birthright, a 426 year old family home, handed down from father to son for thirteen generations."

Sighing, he sat back, sipping from his glass silently as if saddened by the thought.

Mrs. Rabkin looked puzzled. "What is the dilemma with the house?" she asked.

"It is my home at the moment," The Caller replied unexpectedly. "It was inherited by me after our mother died. George was out of the country and I was the only one to care for it. I was newly married at the time. My wife and I divorced last month. It was only a year ago the updating and remodel was completed. Nearly three million in new improvements, it's so beautiful."

Surprised, Mrs. Rabkin spoke up. "Three million, just in rehab?"

George interrupted. "Not just rehab mind you, but improvement. It has been fully updated into the modern era. It is now completely solar powered, with a self contained water system and a hydroponic greenhouse large enough to feed the family and staff."

George sighed. "When I was there last, the greenhouse was filled with blooming orchids, what a heavenly aroma I remember from that day."

The Caller agreed. "As George said, this home has been in our family for over 400 years. It is a testament to the finest craftsmanship in all of our country. It is one of the few remaining historical estates left intact after all the wars our country has endured. Great care was taken in the restoration. The technological improvements were skillfully integrated, very discreetly, to maintain the authenticity."

Speaking up, Neil looked George's way.

"It sounds like a Taj Ma Hall to me. Three million in updating, I bet it will set you back a fortune to purchase it."

George nodded. "Indeed it will, for anyone else wishing it purchase it, but for me... it's a mere half that."

Smiling with a smirk, Neil questioned him. "How's that? You gotta' a half off coupon in your pocket?" he asked with a chuckle.

The Caller spoke up again. "I was married in Geneva, where my wife is from. She filed the divorce there. In the settlement, I was forced sell the estate and split the proceeds with her. She would have never been awarded such a thing in my country. But lacking the funds to pay for her half myself, I am now forced to sell it nonetheless. Fortunately, I arranged to have the appraisal reflect it is only worth 24 million, when in fact it is worth double that at least. Since I am only required to pay her half of the appraised value, George has agreed to buy her half for 12 million. Unknown to her, I will forego the other 12. In return, I will continue living in the home with George, indefinitely. This way he can purchase it and it will stay in our family."

Neil listened to The Caller with interest as he continued.

"In addition to free residency, I have the first option to repurchase it for a mere 10 percent more than George pays for it, if he ever decides to sell. Either way, it will remain in our family as it should and we can preserve it for future generations to come."

Neil nodded. "So you get to live for free in the palace while George and his new bride move in to a fifty million dollar estate for only twelve. Not a bad deal for either of you," he said, nodding his head in-between bites. "So what's the problem?"

Sighing, George refilled his glass from the bottle.

"It is an exceptionally good deal indeed. But sadly, it may slip from our fingers just when we are so close."

Neil leaned back with a scowl. "How's that? Is she wanting more money for it now?"

George shook his head in dismay. "No, but she has found another buyer. At only 24 million, any savvy investor would be a fool to pass it up. The buyer will certainly agree to the asking price after he tours the property in person on Tuesday. I fear it will be lost to us forever after that."

Neil studied the situation. "I take it you didn't net enough proceeds from your business to get a contract in on Monday, before this other buyer previews it?"

George hung his head. "That is the worst part! I am getting more than enough to cover the cost. But I must wait two weeks for the payment. The ex-wife will not hold it for me. You see, she is..." George trailed off as he glanced at The Caller.

Turning back to Neil, he tilted his head with a shrugging smile.

"She is not of our heritage. My brother married outside our culture and religion. She does not understand, nor care what this property means to our family."

Neil and his wife shared a solemn knowing look as George explained.

"I have assured her I have the funds coming shortly. Yet even still, she refuses to offer me trust on the purchase. She insists on a contract accompanied by proof of funds. So you see, I may be too late. I am so close, yet so far away at the same time."

George clenched his fists in anger. "I would gladly pay a million dollars to get those funds in time," George said, before drinking his full glass down in fast swallow. "However, the buyers of my business will not waiver on the closing date, fifteen days from now. It is very frustrating. Not only is the home worth at least fifty million, but it is also all we have left of our family legacy. My father would curse us both if he were alive. His heart would burst if he were to hear we lost our treasured family home forever... Worse, the buyer is a German investor. To think of four hundred years of family heritage... Swallowed up by a foreign investor for a song. It makes me very sad,"

"I as well," The Caller added as he tipped his drink back.

Mrs. Rabkin had been listening intently. She hated business talk, especially over dinner. But she found herself drawn into the intriguing tale nevertheless. She was beginning to very much like George. She knew Neil had easy access to loan George the funds to solve his problem, however, she didn't want to spend the evening mulling over figures and details, which Neil was certain to do without her intervention, as he always had.

Just as Mrs. Rabkin was about to interrupt the group's financial focus, Carly and another server arrived with the entrees. As they placed each plate in front of the guests, George laughed over the portion of beef before him.

"You weren't kidding my dear. This is indeed an entree for two. All the better, I have plenty to share."

Carly smiled at him. "Would you like a few extra small plates, for sharing?"

George looked at the curious faces around him staring wide-eyed at the massive slab of tenderloin.

"I believe I will," he replied. "A few plates to share this delicious looking meal with my guests."

Checking to make certain the other diners were in fine form, Carly dashed off to fetch the plates.

The savory meals hushed the table instantly. Everyone, including George was silently slicing and chewing their charbroiled treats.

Fearing the financial talk would resume, Mrs. Rabkin spoke up first. "This meal is amazing."

Neil looked over at her plate. "That does look good. What all is on that platter?"

She pointed to the items with her fork. This is an eight-ounce filet mignon, grilled tiger shrimp, buttered king crab, and lobster tail with hollandaise. It's just wonderful... The best of everything all in one dish, I really like this place. I'm so glad we waited."

George agreed. "I must admit my tenderloin lives up to its name... very tender indeed. The charred crust is seasoned perfectly. It is truly delicious."

Neil had been sitting silent as his wife and George talked about food for next few minutes. He was still fixated by the words George had said earlier. "I would gladly pay one million dollars to have those funds in time..."

Neil's instincts told him this was an opportunity to make a sizeable profit for a mere thirty-day loan. His attention to his meal was distracted by the desire to seize the moment and seal the deal before dinner was over. His head swarmed inside with fast math... "12 million for thirty days... a one million dollars interest... That's an 8.3 percent return. With two phone calls...I can sell this deal for four percent and keep four point three for myself."

Neil mumbled quietly as he prodded his Kobe filet with ambivalence. His thoughts were sharply focused on the prospect of making over five hundred thousand in a mere month. It was too good of a deal to let slip away.

Mrs. Rabkin was deep in a conversation with George about the nuances of sauce making. Seeing her fork a thumb-sized lump of king crab across her lips, Neil seized the moment to interrupt.

"It would be a sin to lose an heirloom property like that over a divorce," Neil shot out, loud enough to command attention.

George looked up at him as he spoke. "I can hardly bear the thought of it all," he replied sadly.

Shooting Neil a cross-look, Abby suddenly stopped chewing. Taking a drink from her glass, she set her fork down abruptly. "I just can't understand why you refuse to sit through a single meal without talking about work," she said in aggravation.

Picking up her wine, she took several long swallows, staring at Neil with sharpened eyes.

George couldn't pretend not to notice her frustration. "The lady is right I am certain," he said with a calm tone. "We all came here to enjoy ourselves tonight. Talking of problems and work has no place at the table, especially not a table with such fine flavors to offer, and such wonderful company as well."

George held up his glass for a toast.

"A toast if I may," he said to the guests.

The diners took their glasses in hand.

"To fine food, new friends and good fortune to us all."

The table toasted with a clink all around.

The table talk morphed from money into 'Mmm' as the diners stopped talking of George's problem and embraced their last few bites of their meal. Shortly after, Carly came by to check on their progress. The Caller pushed his empty plate towards her. Taking his plate, she asked if he would like dessert.

"I certainly would. I'll have your best bourbon, on the rocks," he replied.

She giggled as she whisked his empty plate away.

"Anyone else care for dessert before I go?" she asked.

George shot curious look towards Neil and Abby. "If I may?" he asked the couple.

Neil nodded, "By all means. Order what you like. You seem to enjoy ordering."

George smiled. "We will all indulge in your finest creations. Impress us with your choice of selections. Please bring one for my brother as well. Even though bourbon may be on his mind now, when he sees our desserts I am certain he will have a change of heart."

Carly laughed. "Sure thing. Four, of whatever I want to order... I like you sir. You make my job easy."

Brushing blonde locks away from her face, she smiled over her shoulder at George as she left the table. He winked at her as she swished away.

Well aware of the server's flirt, Mrs. Rabkin brought up George's love interest again.

"Tell me more about your fiancée George. I'm sure she must be a true beauty to have a man like you longing to marry her."

George smiled slyly as he moved closer to her. Inching forward, Mrs. Rabkin curiously leaned towards him.

"She is an amazing beauty," he whispered. "Eyes, dark as a stormy night, her hair black as an Arabian stallion... Her skin, smooth and bronzed by the sun. Her hips, round and full... ready to bear me many children." His hands formed an hourglass shape in the air as he said the words.

Pausing, George looked at Neil with a smile.

"Her smile soothes my soul. But her temper... hot as the devil himself!" he said laughing, resting his hand on Mrs. Rabkin's arm.

She laughed with him as she leaned into his shoulder. Suddenly she realized their apparent intimacy. Situating herself, she sat up proper in her seat.

"Well, she sure sounds like a catch," Mrs. Rabkin said, refocusing on her drink.

Neil laughed with a chuckle. With that, the table sat silent. George poured the glasses full again as he studied Neil's face for signs of interest. Just as George had hoped, Neil broke the silence quickly.

"Getting back to this property..."

Abby stared at him again.

"Damn you Neil..." she whispered as she took her drink in hand.

He interrupted her, waving her quiet. "Now, just hold on a minute dear. This is important. Before you crucify me right here in the middle of this dining room, I have something to say. I've been thinking about George's dilemma."

She paused her scolding and listened curiously. The table went silent, waiting for his next words. Neil looked at George over his glasses.

"You need 12 million by Monday. It would be too much of a risk the other buyer could get a contract in if you held off any longer. Earlier, you mentioned you'd pay one million dollars to get those funds. Was that a figure of speech, or were you serious?"

George nodded. "I was very serious indeed," he said calmly.

With an understanding nod, Neil resumed.

"That's about eight point three percent in interest. If I could get you the 12 million by Monday, would you agree to the one million in interest, plus the full principle in thirty days?

George nodded again, "Absolutely. I would agree wholeheartedly."

Satisfied, Neil leaned back, wiping his hands on his linen. "You say you sold your business, for how much again?"

Taking a drink, George replied. "13.5 million," he said, casually refilling his glass.

Neil nodded. "Fine, that will do fine. I would need a letter of intent from your buyer stating the closing date and net amount. I would need it all by tomorrow if you want to make that Monday deadline."

George's face beamed with excitement. Neil had taken the bait.

"I have the letter of intent in my email. I will forward it to you along with the contact information, for confirmation. I will send it tonight. If indeed you can make such a loan so quickly, you will have my sincere gratitude, and my brother's as well."

Neil nodded. "Assuming the documents all check out, I can safely say I get you those funds by Monday."

Standing up, George shook Neil's hand with an exuberant smile.

"What fortune has blessed me this fine evening! I am happy to accept your offer my new friend. I am delighted to have met you. I thought my celebration was to be in vain as no one showed up. Yet, tonight has turned to my favor with such great fortune. I enjoyed a wonderful dinner with such lovely company, and found the answer to my prayers. What blessing it has turned out to be that my email invitation failed to reach my guests, Allah works in ways we cannot foresee. Tonight, he has truly blessed me."

The Caller raised his glass. "Don't forget me George. Allah has blessed me too you know."

George held up his glass at The Caller, with a wink in agreement.

Neil nodded as George thanked him again. Abby knew Neil couldn't care less about Allah, Abraham, Mohamed, Jesus, Sheba or any other such notion. Although she and Neil occasionally attended Temple, the banking gods he so diligently served were the only gods he worshiped. He cared only about the next profitable deal. She had overheard him talking about loans such as this a thousand times in the past. The business often interfered with her plans and occasions. It was always an infuriating disappointment.

This time it was different for her. Neil was helping someone Abby was suddenly enamored by. She had fallen under George's spell during the dinner. Still suffering from the loss of a valued property in their own family, she was sympathetic to the misery that was involved for George and his brother. She had a genuine interest in wanting to see him succeed in his plans. That alone was cause to forgive Neil his rudeness by interrupting their dinner with business.

Taking her glass in hand, she paused. Looking over at Neil, she felt a renewed fondness for him. With a subtle smile, she winked as Neil's eyes met her gaze. He had not seen that wink in many years. The sight of it warmed his cold emotions, stirring his loins in the process.

"This dinner may turn out far better than I expected," Neil thought as he looked at this wife with a knowing smile.

Carly carried her heavy tray high as she wormed through the tables bringing the desserts to the table.

"Here you are folks. Our best Pam Sturkey Exclusive desserts," she said, smiling.

Placing them in the center of table, she pointed to each as she named them.

"Chocolate layered Bailey's cheesecake. This is a chocolate cake, layered with Bailey's liquor infused cheesecake then iced with vanilla butter cream and striped with chocolate ganache."

Mrs. Rabkin's eyes lit up at the sight of it.

"This one is our Black Raspberry Cheesecake. It's infused with raspberries sitting on a chocolate chip and Oreo crust. Here is our Heath Bar cheesecake. A traditional graham cracker crust stacked with rich cheesecake, laced with Heath-bar crumbles. Topped with white chocolate."

The dinners stared in silent attention as Carly finished describing the attractively created dishes.

"Lastly I have a special dessert for my bourbon lover," Carly said as she placed a dessert before The Caller.

"I tried my best to pair your bourbon to a suitable dessert. I chose our Banana Bread Pudding, my personal favorite by the way. It is a fresh from the oven bread pudding with Tahitian vanilla gelato and caramelized bananas. They use rum in our bread pudding sauce so I thought I would ask the chef to replace the rum with bourbon. I hope you like it."

Looking up, George raised his eyebrows with a wide smile.

"Very quick thinking young lady! You paired that very well, and we were not even expecting such a creative effort."

The Caller agreed as he pulled the plate near. "Bourbon bread pudding. I think that sounds excellent."

George nodded in agreement. "I do as well. Bourbon rather than rum, what a wonderful twist on an traditional classic."

Carly beamed with pride. Bouncing on her toes as they complimented her. "Wow! Really? Thanks!"

She scanned the tables for empty glasses and pointed to The Caller's bourbon.

"Another with your dessert?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," he replied.

She smiled back with excitement and scurried off to the bar. As they ate their desserts, George whispered to The Caller.

"I think our cute little Carly has taken an interest in you."

The Caller shrugged as he took a sip of the whiskey then forked a chunk of bread pudding in his mouth. Savoring it slowly, he paused.

"She is very attractive, but a bit young for man of my years."

George nudged him with an elbow. "What has age to do with true romance? I feel... love is in the air..."

The Caller nodded, as he forked a piece of the dessert onto George's plate. "I do love this bourbon bread pudding. Here, try a piece. It is very good. You should mention it to your Chef."

After the dessert plates were wiped clean. Carly stopped to check on the table.

"Did you enjoy the desserts?"

In turn, the diners complimented her again on the food and the service.

"Sounds great! Are you staying for coffee or cocktails.... or should I bring the check?"

George asked her to bring the check. Neil stopped her before she whooshed away.

"The lady and I are on one check if you don't mind," he said, pointing to his wife.

Carly told him she would split them off the table and turned to leave. As she passed near, George tugged her arm in his direction.

"Please leave it all on one check, and bring it to me when you're ready," he said with a whisper.

"Ok, no problem," she said. "I will be right back with that."

Carly jogged away to add the bourbon to their total. She was excited the bill had grown so high by George's appetite for expensive items.

Arriving back at the table, she placed the black book on the table in front of George as he requested. Scanning the bill, he stuck several bills into the binder. Carly reached to take it away when George waved her close.

"This... is for you my young lady. You have been a true delight of a server to us tonight."

He tucked ten folded hundred-dollar bills into her hand. She looked at the money, counting the edges by sight in the folded stack. Seeing they were all hundreds, she stopped still.

"That's more than the food bill... Thank you so much sir!"

George smiled with a wink. "You are more lovely than any dish your chef can create, therefore it's only appropriate."

Blushing, she thanked him again, pulling away reluctantly to bus the dessert plates.

Carly's emotions were fluttering with excitement and elation. Neil and Abby shared a look of surprise over George's massive tip. Neil never tipped well. Abby's eyes looked at Neil's with a laughing smile. She knew he was reeling in agony for such a squandering of money. George's graciousness fueled her spite for Neil's cheapness. Neil was well aware of her tease as he scooted his chair away from the table. Gathering his coat and glasses, he avoided further eye contact with her.

Walking together out to the lobby, George and Neil exchanged a few words. The valet brought the Rabkin's car around. George shook his hand again.

"I will send the letter of intent in the next hour."

Neil nodded as sat down into the car. "Don't delay George, this is a lot of money to put together by Monday morning. You will need to send your contract over the second the bank opens if you want to beat that buyer."

Closing the door, Neil rolled the window down. George leaned close.

"May I thank The Mrs. and yourself for a wonderful evening. It was a true pleasure dining with you. My celebration could not have turned out better."

Abby blushed as George peered towards her with a smile and a wink. The car drove away slowly. George watched them leave as he lit a cigar. The Caller stood at his side.

"All went well with that," The Caller said.

George puffed the cigar to life. "Indeed it did my friend. Things will be moving along quickly now."

By the time the Caller dropped George off at his apartment it was nearly eleven. The Ship's crew would be working their closing duties by now. Charley would inevitably stay hours after, struggling with her duties. George dialed her number. A voicemail greeting started to play. Hanging up, he texted her.

"Come to the apartment. Stay with me tonight. It's been too long. Tonight, we celebrate."

After a few short minutes Charley replied. "Sure thing. But celebrate what?"

Seconds later, George texted his reply. "Life, love and the pleasures we are here on earth to enjoy."

She replied quickly. "Sounds good to me. Be there around midnight."

Charley found herself enthusiastic over his invitation. She had expected him to be enamored with her as so many other men had, but his focus on her so far was not as dedicated as she had hoped. Tonight, it seemed his interest was shining on her again.

To wet his appetite, she dashed into the office. Sliding her thin panties to the floor, sitting on the edge of the desk, she shot a photo between her tan inner thighs showing her smooth freshly waxed womanhood. She texted it to George with no words attached whatsoever.

In seconds, her phone beeped with a reply.

"Come now. Leave immediately."

Charley smiled at her phone as she read his message. She lost all concern for working on the mystery report numbers tonight. Getting to George was all she could think about. In her haste, she decided to have Ellen close out the servers so she could leave without delay. Poking her head out of the office door, she called out to Rob.

"Rob. Will you tell Ellen I need to go now and that I will make it up to her if she can cash out the servers and close for me?"

Rob nodded as he looked at her through the pass.

Walking out of The Ship. Charley thought about George. Maybe she could still keep his attention focused on her, if she worked her seductions harder. Her usual methods had not been enough to keep this man hanging on her arm. George's ambivalence demanded more out her than she had initially expected.

As she walked to the car, she found herself realizing how different George was from any other man she had ever met. Part of her, some small smidgen, was warming inside her cold heart. Was she actually developing a true fondness for him? Would this new feeling grow into a... "A love?" she wondered as she fished her keys from her purse.

Laughing out loud at the idea, she chirped the lock. "Don't be a fool girl," she said to herself as she slid into the seat. "There is no real love in this world, only mutual expectations... I'm not about to start believing in that love bullshit. And neither is he I'm sure."

Her Lexus squealed its tires as she turned into the street. She pushed the car to high speed in an effort to get to George's as quickly as possible. She would have to up the bar to impress him tonight.

"I wonder... What will make him realize he shouldn't ignore for days like that again?"

Her mind filled with images of steamy sex. "I am going to have to teach him how much nicer it is when I'm around..."
Chapter 15

At the pass, Rob explained to Ellen she would be the manager for the night. She began checking the closing tasks from each server. Stopping in the kitchen, she watched Rob box the last to-go order for Jules.

"I'm hungry too Rob. Do you think there is anything here we can heat up at home for a midnight snack?"

He paused in thought. "There is some crab cakes left that should have been cooked tonight. I will fry those off and bring them with us."

Ellen was giddy. "Ooh our own crab cake buffet! Any sides with that order Chef?"

Rob smiled. "I think I can put something together."

"Make sure you have enough for Maria too," she said, smiling back as she disappeared into the office to prepare the end of shift reports.

Ellen loaded the shift report. Only Jules still had a food order tab still open. The server's were already finished. Ellen scanned the report for the server's cash out totals as they began to file into the office.

Just as Charley had been, Ellen was shocked at the sales figures, not to mention the tip out amounts. Ellen had helped Sandra with the end of shift reports in the past. She had a general idea of The Ship's sales from past the two years. The new totals were nearly triple what The Ship had ever done before.

The unusual numbers were intriguing to her. With no chance of being questioned by Charley or George, she printed off several key reports while cashing out the waiting servers. Heather came into the office to cash out as the servers filed in and out of the door.

"Geez Ellen, you should close every night. You're so much faster than Charley," Heather said.

Ellen laughed. "I only need to collect your money. I ran the reports before you guys came in. That way, you can just pay me and get going."

Heather chuckled. "Yeah, Charley waits until we get in here to run the reports. Then she make us wait even longer while she keeps adding it up again and again, it takes forever."

Ellen shrugged. "Maybe she never has time to work it all out prior to closing, I had a lot of free time tonight."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Yeah, like she is so busy she doesn't have time," she said sarcastically. "Mostly all she does is stay in this office, staring at that computer."

Taking Heather's cash, Ellen placed it in the safe.

"Well, she is trying to learn, she asked me to help her with the reports. You have to give her credit. I would have never thought she could handle it at all. But she is, and The Ship seems to be in better shape than ever so..."

Heather shot Ellen a doubtful look. "Really? You think so? Well, I guess, it could be worse," she said as she walked out counting her tips.

The servers continued cashing out in the office. As the last server left, Ellen added up the totals, making certain her deposit matched the report to the penny. Rob walked in breathing hard and sweating.

"You ready?" he asked with a loud breath.

"Yep. Just finishing up, I just have to lock the safe and take out this trash," Ellen replied.

"Good, I will call a cab. Maria and I will be outside," Rob said as he dashed away.

While finishing up, Ellen printed a copy of the monthly sales report, along with many other individual reports. Locking the safe, she snatched the thick stack of papers off the printer, switched off the lights and closed the door, locking it behind her.

Dumping the office trash into the bin, she noticed the wine stained report George had thrown out sitting on top of the discarded papers.

"Charley shouldn't be throwing these in the trash," Ellen said to herself. "These contain all of The Ship's sensitive information. They should be shredded."

Tucking the discarded report under her arm with the rest of the reports, she locked the front door and met with Rob and Maria outside.

Standing under a pole light in the parking lot, Ellen couldn't help but to scan the reports.

"Wow, look at this!" she said to Rob. "This time last year we were averaging 12 grand on a Saturday night. Tonight, we did over 31."

Rob was surprised. He knew based on food production roughly how the good sales were. He had worked a few twenty-five thousand dollar nights in the past when The Ship catered a private party simultaneously with a busy night. At the end of those nights, the coolers sat empty. The stocks were depleted to nothing and dozens of bags of trash would go out rather than usual eight or ten.

Since George's arrival, The Ship had been steadily getting busier, but not to the level of thirty thousand dollars per night, not based on what was going out of Rob's pass window anyway.

"Maybe the bar is pushing the numbers up," he said. "That band is keeping people drinking and staying later,"

Straining to see, Ellen read off profit and loss figures and sales statistics in the dim light.

"I want to go over those when we get home," Rob said. "Maybe I can pinpoint where the difference is, and improve the future by using that as a target,"

Ellen was lost in thought as she read.

"Improve did you say?" Ellen asked with a laugh. "Rob, this place is raking in a fortune. I don't think you need to worry about improving anything."

By the time the cab pulled into the marina, dropping off Ellen, Rob and Maria at the Lady Jane, Charley was relaxing on the patio at George's apartment. She was naked except for the velvet robe draped around her tan body. George had wasted no time. The second she entered the door he was waiting.

Grabbing her up in his arms, he carried her to his big bed. Like a chucking a sack of potatoes into the back of a loaded truck, he tossed her onto the silk sheets. His clothes were already off, shedding his robe he leaped onto the bed beside her.

Tossing her clothes to the floor, Charley proudly exposed her tantalizing body. George hovered above her on all fours. His eyes were fiery with lust as he gazed down at her. Sliding down to the bed, he rested his head on her firm thighs. Parting her legs, he slid between them.

Kissing and licking down her thigh, his tongue found her innermost warmth. Her head fell back onto the pillow as his lips pulled at her womanhood. With eyes closed tight, her breath quickened from his touch. Her round breasts rose up and down as waves of pleasure erupted within her. In minutes, her legs shivered as she felt the orgasm building inside her. Rising up off her pillow, she strained to see his face as the orgasm began to quicken. As the intensity peaked, she gasped, falling slack onto the sheets. George looked up at her from between her legs. Her cold black eyes seemed to soften.

"Now, lets see what I can do for you," she said as she spun up on her knees.

Straddling George, she pushed him back onto the bed. He watched silently as Charley stared into his eyes. Slowly sliding her hips down over his manhood, taking all she could at first, she paused with a sigh.

Easing him deeper into her, inch-by-inch, she took all of him inside her. Sitting up with her hands on her hips, her gaze stayed fixed into his eyes as she began to rock. Her rhythm was slow and deliberate.

In the soft light he watched her toned thighs strain as she pushed herself up and down. Her hips working back and forth, she began to bounce. Long curls of her hair dark hair dangled over her face as her tempo increased.

Sitting up off the bed, George leaned on his elbows, straining to grasp Charley's bouncing breast between his lips. Finding his target, his lips bit down on her hardened nipple, gently he sunk his teeth into her flesh until she gasped.

Feeling him so deep inside her, she began to work her hips harder, grinding down onto him with all her effort. His arms around her waist, his teeth clamped to her breast, she felt him grow even larger inside her. Suddenly, his lips let loose as he fell back onto the pillow. The look on his face told her he couldn't hold out much longer.

Managing to get up on her feet without breaking her rhythm, she sank down deeper still. With her knees up to her breasts, she bounced her bottom as high as she could manage without allowing him to slip out of her. He felt her long nails grip his chest for balance as she bounced harder. He watched her burning legs begin to glisten from her intense work out. She slowed as his mouth opened, frozen in a silent cry. His eyes widened. She stared dead into them, whispering soft sexy words as she rocked on top of him again with all her effort.

His hands grasped her hips hard. Pulling her down onto him tightly, he held her still. Pushing all he could into her tightness, he gasped loudly. Closing his eyes, Charley felt him pulsing deep inside her. She slid down to his chest as he continued to throb, more slowly now. Sliding her legs back, she eased down on top of him, his chest rising and falling from hard breathes under her breasts. His fingers brushed her hair to the side as he stared at her face.

"That was quick," she said teasingly.

George looked at her with a grin. "A wonderful beginning. There are many more to come tonight, for us both my dear Charley."

She rose up on one elbow, tossing her hair to the side, looking at him with a smiling stare.

"You can have anything you want from me tonight. I am ready when you are."

Laughing, he rose off the bed and slipped on his robe.

"I am certain you are my dear Charley... Now, let's have a drink outside, the air is perfect. I feel like having a bit of cigar with a brandy."

Sliding up off the bed, she stepped towards the bathroom. His eyes feasted on her nude body. Following every curve of her back down to her bottom, he fixated on her form as she tiptoed to the bathroom. She could sense his gaze. Using her best effort, she swished her hips, flexing her thighs and calves by tip toeing as she seductively slipped away.

"Such perfection in form and beauty," he thought as he watched her disappear behind the bathroom door.

Several blocks east, the mighty Ohio River lazily swayed the Lady Jane. Even though she spanned over one hundred feet, her immense buffeted hull was not immune to the rise and fall of the river waves that rolled from the coal-laden barges as they passed in the night.

Rob came out of the tiled shower drying off. His primal ambition was telling him to not even dress. Notions of undressing Ellen pressed his thoughts as he slid beside her on the bed. She didn't notice him as he squirmed closer. Locked in an intense study of the Ship reports, she was oblivious to the towel wrapped nude man lying beside her.

Holding silently still, Rob watched her reading. Sliding his fingers through a lock of her hair she turned her head slowly, her eyes following behind, pausing, glued to the page. Instinctively she reached without looking, feeling for Rob with blind fingers. Her fingertips brushed his bare manhood. Feeling the unexpected, her hand jumped back to her side as she spun her head around quickly.

"Oh my god! I wasn't expecting that," she said with a laugh.

Inching closer beside her, he coaxed her on.

"I'm fresh, I'm clean, I'm getting hard and you are priority one on my list of things to do tonight."

Reaching over her hips, he ran his hand down between her thighs. She grabbed it, stopping him from going deeper.

"Hold on Rob. You have to see this."

Rob used his other hand to circumvent her grasp.

"I just want to see this," he said as he tugged at her leg.

She fought his hands away. "I'm not kidding, this is crazy. You have to look at this."

He paused his efforts. "You are crazy. You want to read work reports. I'm naked, clean and ready. Just like you want."

Lunging on top of her, he pushed her flat against the bed, pinning her arms beside her head. Sitting with his waist even with her face, she looked up at him, ignoring the growing manhood inches from her lips.

"Rob... C'mon. I want to as much as you do... But, you have to look at this, then I will. I promise."

Seeing the seriousness in her eyes, he released her and slid back down to the bed.

"What's so interesting about a work report that can't wait?" he said in frustration.

Ellen had highlighted several rows of numbers. She pointed with her pen as she explained the quick facts on the page.

"Look, this column is the weekly deposits for the month prior to George's purchase of The Ship."

Rob glanced at the numbers with a lack of interest as she pointed them out.

"Fifteen, eighteen, seventeen... That seems normal, so what?" Rob asked as he read.

She nodded in agreement, turning to another page.

"Now, here are the numbers from this past month."

Her pen slowly slid down the page. Rob followed along, his eyes growing wider.

"Wow! We have tripled the sales in the past month. That's awesome!"

Ellen turned to another page. "These are the totals broken down by category."

Rob scanned the list. "What the hell? It isn't just food that's making more money, it's the bar! These are mostly all bar terminal sales."

Setting her pen on the page, Ellen looked at him with raised eyebrows. Shuffling the papers, she pulled out another sheet of figures.

"Right, this is the bar report, itemized," she said, showing him the paper.

Rob scanned the figures. "It looks like... Lets see. Yeah... This one bartender is kicking ass. That must be Jules."

Ellen smiled. "Nope. Guess again."

He thought about it with frustration and blankness. "I don't know Ellen. Who is it?"

Placing another page on top of the stack, Ellen continued.

"I will tell you in a minute. First, look at this. These are the food sales, itemized by employee number."

Rob took it from her. Scanning the list, he saw one employee's sales were in the tens of thousands.

"Who the hell is this server thirteen? I don't remember a thirteen. Is that Charley's new number?" he asked, staring at Ellen in surprise.

With a sly shrug, Ellen replied. "I have no idea. I have checked off all twelve servers on the floor, on every shift, part time and full time. They are all accounted for, all twelve. This thirteenth server... doesn't exist. Neither does the mystery bartender."

Rob looked at her with amazement.

"What the hell Ellen?" he whispered as took the paper from her hand.

"It gets even weirder," she said smiling. "This is an older report I found in the trash tonight. It's a fully detailed Profit and Loss report from the day George took over. Managers usually just view these reports on the computer. Mostly because of how many pages it takes to print. They rarely ever print those. I have never seen one printed in full in the two years since we opened. The fact that someone bothered to print it, then just tossed in the trash is very odd. Among many other things, it shows every transaction rang in all month."

Taking the thick report in hand, Rob looked it over.

"It has wine spilled all over it. That's why they threw it out I guess."

Ellen shook her head. "But they could have just re-printed the first few stained pages. Never mind that, just look at the transactions, on this page."

She turned the crumpled pages to the show him where to look. Scanning the totals, he shrugged.

"Yeah, so. All the server numbers have great sales. What so weird about that?"

Ellen pointed her pen to several of the guest check numbers.

"Look at this check for instance. It's for ten rib dinners and five bottles of Cristal."

Rob read the list. "Wow, that's a pricey tab."

Ellen smiled. "Don't worry about the price. Look at the time of the order."

Rob slid his eyes over across the lines of information to the hour and date.

"05:21"

He shot Ellen a look of shock.

"Ellen, that's five thirty in the morning! We're not even open at..." his voice trailed off as he stared at her with wide eyes.

Ellen took the stained report back.

"Exactly. This report shows every transaction since the day George took over. If you look closely, it shows tens of thousands of dollars in sales every week, all rang in prior to The Ship's opening. Some of those sales are spread across the board, on every server number. It all looks legit, except every sale occurred before we open."

Rob took the report in hand for a closer look. Ellen pointed out numbers with her pen again.

"The deeper you dig the more odd it gets. That phantom bartender has tens of thousands in sales too. Every one was rung in before we open plus... thousands of dollars were rung in on Sundays, when we are closed. And get this... every single check on that thirteenth server number; the phantom bartender and the extra server orders... were all paid in cash. Never once has a check been paid by a credit card on any of those orders."

Staring at the ticket times, Rob was in disbelief.

No wonder the sales are triple," Rob said.

"See why I wanted you to read it?" she asked.

He nodded his head, deep in confused contemplation.

"Not a single credit card... Tens of thousands in mysterious cash sales outside of our operation hours? Extra tips going to the servers... What is going on here Ellen?" Rob asked in frustration.

Shrugging, Ellen replied. "It's simple. Someone has created two false employee numbers and adds fake sales to the Ship's real sales, early in the morning and on Sundays. I can only guess it is to back up the cash deposit amounts and balance the books. Don't forget, no one even has access to create a new employee number except George and..."

Ellen stole his next word before he could get it out.

"Charley!" They both said simultaneously.

Nodding, Rob went back over the times and dates of the food sales again.

"It has to be Charley. That little bitch is helping George pull a scam."

Ellen nodded. "She's covering their tracks too. The weekly reports I just printed show the same exact sales totals as that stained P&L. Except the one I printed tonight is all in line with our actual hours and days of operation. The false sales dates and times on this old report have all been painstakingly edited. Only this single wine stained P&L shows the true dates and times the fake sales were added...

Someone went back after that report was printed and manipulated the ticket times one by one, so no one could notice the impossible sales. You can only do that with each check individually. There is simply no other possible way these two reports could read different. That took time... a lot of time. With no credit card sales, there is no other record of the real times the sales were entered. Now they are gone forever."

Staring at Ellen, Rob held the report in his hand.

"I would have never imagined Charley was smart enough even to read these reports, let alone edit them in such detail. There are hundreds of tickets to change to make it all line up right with our real hours."

Ellen nodded. "Yep, and everyone says she is always locked in the office on the computer all day and night. Plus, she just asked some me odd questions about editing the Admin' tab in the computer. She acted as if she forgot the password."

Rob scowled. "Did you give it to her?"

Ellen shrugged, nodding her head.

He looked angry then replied with a near shout.

"You did! Why would you do that Ellen?"

Suddenly she felt defensive.

"Because Rob! She's the manager. She has to edit comps and charge offs, kitchen re-fires, broken liquor bottles, returns, gift certificates... all kinds of stuff. She said George comped' almost the entire dining room not long ago and messed up her totals. Jules told me the same thing the day I came back to work. I was trying to help her. I didn't think I was helping her pull off a scam. She acts like she's half stupid most of the time. I never thought she was trying to trick me. I just thought... she was kinda' ditzy and didn't know how to do it."

Looking puzzled, Rob was confused.

"If she bothered to ask you for the password, I doubt she knew it all along. That's why that stained report shows the real ticket times. After you gave it to her, she went back and changed everything..."

Ellen felt regret. "Now, thanks to me, she can edit all the all the outside-of-hours sales as she goes along. She's making sure from now on, the report will always look legit. Which it does, I would have never known the truth if I had not found this wine stained report in the trash. All record of the out of line times and dates would be lost forever without this single P&L. But now that I have it to compare the current reports, I can easily see what is really going on."

Rob shook his head.

"I can't believe this. Charley just isn't that smart. We've known her for two years. You know as well as I do, she isn't capable of manipulating these reports like this. And besides that, where is all this cash from coming from? We're talking about a couple hundred grand, just in one month!"

Throwing her hands up, Ellen was perplexed.

"I have no idea. But I don't think Charley has a couple hundred grand a month she needs to hide. Even still, it has to be Charley, George or both editing the system. They have the only access to pull this off. Those Admin tabs are all password protected. There is no one else on The Ship with the password except those two. Charley claimed to have never known it, until I gave it to her. That leaves just..."

Standing up off the bed, Rob poured a drink from the bedroom bar.

"That means George bought The Ship to launder illegal cash. And his little cohort Charley is helping to cover his tracks. That means... we're living on a fucking drug money boat or something. This is bad Ellen..." Rob said with a solemn tone.

Ellen nodded, hiding the reports in her dad's duffle as she went on.

"The really bad thing is, now the computer has been edited, it all looks totally legit. Only someone with intimate knowledge of all of our actual servers and their individual numbers would realize the fake sales never existed by looking at these reports now."

"Maybe that's why George made Charley the manager, so she could do the editing and no one else would see the scam," Rob shot back.

Nodding in agreement, Ellen shrugged. "Even the IRS couldn't decipher the truth now that the dates and times are edited. They don't know whom these server numbers belong to as I do. With no credit card records to show the real times... To anyone else, besides Charley, it all adds up, right down to the last dime. The servers could notice inflated sales on their numbers by looking closely at their end of shift report, but since the false orders all have tips added in... Why would they bother? They just think they had a stellar night and leave happy."

Pondering the mystery, Rob rubbed his head.

"Obviously George is running the extra money through the terminal. We don't even know if Charley is really involved. So far this is all just a theory. That wine stained report is the only proof anyone will ever have."

Ellen agreed. "If George is doing this alone, he is very good at it. Maybe Charley isn't helping him. Without that single report, even I would never have a clue about the fake sales entries, nor the phantom employees. If Charley doesn't know by now, she will never figure it out."

Tapping on the duffle, Rob tucked it into a drawer under the bed.

"We need to keep these safe," he said. "Someday, it may be all we have to protect us."

Ellen scowled. "Protect us, from what?"

Rob shook his head, "I don't know, George, or the cops. Who knows? All I know is this is serious money, six figures a month easy. That kind of illegal money is scary stuff and now we know about it. Look what he did over a silly video... This has me worried, for both of us. We need to get our own place and get off this boat soon."
Chapter 16

Maria found working in the kitchen suited her well. Never in her life had she imagined earning a decent living by doing such simple chores. Her hair was growing out fast. With her new clothes, painted nails, make-up and modest costume jewelry, she finally looked like a woman.

Years of hard work and her healthy diet had rewarded her with a fit figure. When Maria first arrived in America, she was a strong, muscled, capable, and deadly woman who looked manly. Now, she was beginning to shine as beautiful female for the first time in her entire life.

Living with Rob and Ellen on The Lady Jane, Maria's life was transformed nearly overnight from a shaved-headed backwater gang guard to calm peaceful woman in a matter of weeks. It was hard for her to grasp at times. The Lady Jane's appointments were unmatched in quality and luxury by any vessel on the river. Maria found herself free to nap on the deck sofas in the summer sun, shower in the steamy Italian tiled glass lined stall and dine in a gourmet kitchen. The silk sheet clad king size bed was an unimaginable improvement over the coarse straw sack of bedding she had slept on her entire life.

Ellen and Rob went everywhere together. They both used every spare moment to teach Maria everything about life in America. Rob spent many Sunday lunches and midnight snacks learning from her as she cooked authentic Vietnamese dishes for the trio.

Come Monday, Ellen wanted to look deeper into the reports in an effort to discover anything she could about what was going on. She still had the password, but her access was very limited, as Charley had not asked again for her help. Only when both Charley and George were not aboard could Ellen get time alone in the office.

Charley arrived on The Ship just before lunch. She had spent the weekend with George, nearly all of it in the nude. Long before she left her apartment for work, George had left to attend his all-important meeting with Neil Rabkin. Arriving at Neil's office, George waited in the lobby just as the office opened. A raven-haired secretary exchanged glances and smiles with him as he thumbed through a sailing magazine.

"Well hello George," Neil said as he walked into the lobby.

George stood up to greet him with a solid handshake.

"Come on into the office," he said pointing the way. "Rebecca, hold my calls until Mr. Achmed and I are finished."

They stepped into the office as Neil closed the door the behind them. Taking a seat behind his desk, Neil took out a three-page contract and handed it to George.

"There are a few pages of legal requirements here. But I was able to pull off the bridge loan as promised. No easy feat in such a short timeline, but the deal was attractive to my backers."

George looked over the terms, reading every line on every page. He knew he would never repay a single dollar of the loan, but needed to act as if the terms were important to avoid suspicion. Neil waited silently as George read. Finishing the last page, George took a pen from his pocket and signed the contracts. Neil double-checked the signatures and initials then presented George with an envelope with the check inside.

Sliding out his prize, George scanned the check.

"12 million... from a single dinner conversation," he thought to himself.

Neil spoke up as he watched George study the check.

"That cashier's check will clear for deposit immediately. It will serve as the proof of funds you need for your property contract."

George looked up from the check with a smile.

"I cannot thank you enough. This is just what I needed to secure my family property. I was almost certain I would lose it."

Neil sat back in his chair. "No need to thank me George, your one million in interest is reward enough."

George smiled. "That is a great deal of money for such a short term loan. I suppose you are correct."

As George took his jacket off the chair, Neil leaned forward. In a serious tone, he reminded George of the terms.

"Remember, the entire 13 million is due in thirty days. I spoke with the Harden Group accountant earlier today. Your buyers checked out with no problem. That is the only reason I was able to convince my lenders to risk the loan you know. Those fellows over there seemed very excited about buying your restaurant. 13.5 million dollars, it must be a real money machine."

George smiled again as he nodded. "Indeed it is. And again, thank you very much Neil."

Neil stood up, shaking George's hand again briefly as he prepared to leave and deposit his multi-million dollar check.

After lunch, George's checked his account and found his funds were available. Clicking the keys on his computer, he transferred the full amount into his anonymous Bitcoin account. After double-checking to be certain the transfer was complete, he arrived at The Ship feeling terrifically pleased with his successful plan, and life in general.

Charley was in no mood to entertain his folly. She had been aggravated since her arrival as a busser and two servers were late. Earlier, Charley found herself forced to clean and serve tables in the lunch rush. Bussing a table, she spilled a glass of red wine on her brand new $270 silk blouse. Carrying a heavily loaded tray of orders to a table, she broke a heel off her new $560 Giuseppe shoes, nearly falling, narrowly avoiding crashing every plate.

Sitting in the office in her bare feet, she felt a wave of relief as George walked in.

"God I'm glad you're here. I nearly dumped an entire six top order when the heel on this shit $500 shoe snapped off. Plus, I spilled wine on my new shirt clearing a table like a damn busboy. I've been running non-stop since I got here. Now I'm limping around barefoot and my shirt is ruined. I've got to get out of here for a bit so I can change and be ready for dinner service.

George studied her silently as she told her tale of woe.

"Relax my little kitten. You go home, take your time. I will have Ellen take charge until you return."

Smiling, she pecked him with a quick kiss.

George rubbed her shoulders as he whispered in her ear. "Tonight you will leave early. I want to resume our weekend adventure. I feel particularly hungry for you today, by tonight my appetite will be famished."

Smiling, she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I would treat you to an office liaison but I have just got to get out of this shirt," she said with a sigh.

Gently pulling her face to his lips by her chin, he kissed her.

"Go now. Go home, relax and change. I will meet you at the apartment at nine."

Charley looked concerned. "Nine? The Ship will be pretty busy at nine. Maybe I should come back until the rush slows down."

George scowled. "Nonsense. Rob and Ellen can handle The Ship. They are professionals at this work. Everything will be fine. It is only a Monday after all. I want you home with me as soon as possible. Take the night off. Come to my place at nine. I have a gift for you."

Charley smiled and kissed him again. Wiping her lipstick from George's lips, she agreed to meet him on time. "I will meet you at your place at nine then, and I just may have a gift for you as well..." she said slyly smiling.

Ellen overheard Charley's conversation as she approached the open office door. She was excited to hear Charley and George were both leaving. She would have unrestricted access to the computer.

Seeing Ellen, George waved her to him. "Ellen my dear, I need you to act as manager tonight. Do you mind filling in?

Ellen laughed. "Not at all. Tell Charley to take all the time she needs."

George patted her on the shoulder. "I knew you would understand. I have complete faith in you. You are a fiercely capable woman Ellen. I greatly respect that."

Ellen realized she had a chance to really dig deep into the past reports, if she had enough time.

"I don't deserve too much credit," she said with a shrug. "To tell you the truth, it's no real chore. Mondays are cake. Charley can even take the night off if she likes."

George raised his thick eyebrows. "That is very kind of you. Charley has worked very hard lately, very long hours for days on end with little or no breaks. I am certain she will appreciate her unexpected day off. It sounds as if this has begun as a bad day for her. No doubt she will be relived to know it she need not bother to return tonight."

Pulling his hand from his pocket, he took Ellen by the hand, subtly placing three folded hundred-dollar bills in her palm.

Seeing the bills, Ellen shot him a surprised look. "George... You really don't have to..."

He hushed her with a finger. "I merely reward you for professional work, nothing more. You deserve it. Say no more about it now please."

She thanked him again as he turned to leave. The Ship was hers for the next ten hours. This was her opportunity to finally discover what other clues were hiding deep among the Ship's reports.

As George's car sped way, Ellen logged into the Ship computer. She felt like an undercover spy as she sat in the locked office, scanning through page after page of numbers, quickly printing anything she thought needed further study. Rob checked on her as he prepared for dinner.

"What are you up to?" he asked as he peeked into the office.

"Give me some time here please. I need a few more minutes to print these reports," she replied in haste.

As Rob shut the office door, Heather came into the kitchen.

"Rob, where is Ellen?" she asked.

He nodded towards the office. "Don't bother her now. What is it you need?"

Heather stepped closer to him, with a whisper she spoke. "I need to go home for a few."

He looked at her, shrugging. "Charley is off, and two of the servers are late. You and Ellen are all we have on the floor right until they show up."

Heather winced. "Rob I need to go home, just for a minute. I would really rather explain to Ellen... girl problems... you know what I mean?"

Rob didn't pry. "How long do you need?"

She looked at him hopeful. "An hour? I will hurry. I promise."

He looked at the locked office door. "Fine, it's a quarter to two, be back by three, I don't want Ellen stuck with this whole place by herself. Heather thanked him as she dashed out the swinging doors.

Even though the only customers at the moment were bar patrons, Ellen knew she would be seriously busy shortly. She focused her efforts on the reports while she had the time to spare. This was a rare opportunity to access the computer alone without fear of being found out.

The printer whirred as it spit out page after page of warm reports. Ellen didn't have time to study them in detail now. She was simply focused on printing as much as she could while she had the opportunity. She planned to go over them at home later with Rob. She had just finished printing the last page when Rob called out to her.

"Ellen! There are guests seated."

Ellen closed out the report window and logged off the computer.

"I'm coming!" she replied.

Stuffing the thick stack of papers in a manila envelope, she hid them in her locker before jogging off the dining room.

"Hello. Welcome to The Good Ship. I'm Ellen, I will take care of all your needs today," she said as she stood beside a freshly seated table.

The couple listened but didn't even look up at her.

"I want a Dewers on the rocks," the man said as he read the menu.

"I will have a vodka martini, with something fruity for a twist," his lady companion replied.

Ellen noticed they were still reading. "Do any of our appetizers tempt you before I get your drinks?"

"Just the drinks. We're still looking," the man said, as he waved her away.

"No problem, I will be right back with those."

Ellen walked to the bar were Jules was setting up for the coming rush.

"Hey Elle!" Jules said as she stacked beer in a cooler. "Do you have an order?"

Ellen nodded. "Yeah, but take your time. This guy is one of those 'You're my damn servant, know your place' types.

Jules laughed and began making the drinks anyway.

Dropping them off, Ellen took their food orders. In the kitchen, Rob heard the printer grinding out their order.

"Look sharp Miguel! First order of the night, let's set the tone and get it perfect. One rib, one filet bloody."

Miguel began the order as he called it back.

"Amigo? I haven't seen you in so long man. You don't come to The Pub anymore. We need to get together, for some cervasas you know?"

Looking at Miguel smiling, Rob replied.

"Yeah you're right. I've been so caught up lately, it's been a crazy month."

Miguel nodded in understanding. "I hear you are living the good life, on a big ship down at the marina. You should have a party. Share the wealth with us less fortunate you know?"

Rob laughed. "I wouldn't call it a ship. But it's one hell of a floating apartment. Maybe you guys should come over before we move out. Tuesday would be good."

Miguel smiled big. "Si si! Tuesday. Me, Army and Micah, we will come see you. I will bring the drinks, Army will bring everything else."

Rob smirked. "Everything else huh? Well, I guess I could use a little smoothing out. We will meet up there after work tonight then. I will tell Ellen."

Heather returned looking fresh and relived just in the nick of time as guests were filing in.

"Did the other servers show up?" she asked Ellen.

"Yeah. But even still, if it was up to me, I would give them extra side work for being so late," Ellen replied.

Heather laughed. "You wouldn't be as hard on them as Charley will be. She's a real bitch. I bet she fires them all and keeps their last check for herself."

Wondering what would be their fate, Ellen helped Heather finish setting up the last few tables for service.

"Oh well, it's not my problem. Charley is the manager, she has to deal with it," Ellen said.

Heather paused in silence for a moment. "What if you were the manager?" she asked. "I mean, it would only make sense. You are far more experienced than anyone else on The Ship, even Charley... especially Charley," she said laughing.

Ellen laughed along with her. "I wouldn't say no. But George and Charley... you know."

Heather rolled her eyes. "Yeah I know. I see them sneaking off to have a quickie or a blowjob all the time. Plus, she stayed with George all weekend."

Ellen paused her work. "All weekend?"

Heather continued wiping the table. "Yep. All weekend. I bet she's sore after two days and two nights with George."

Judging by the reported sales, Ellen suspected more false orders had been rung in on Sunday. She wondered how Charley or George could pull that off without the other knowing... unless, they did it together. Finishing her table, she jogged to the kitchen to share the information with Rob.

"Rob, I just heard some interesting news. Charley spent the entire weekend with George."

Rob looked at her, cocking his head in confusion. "Yeah, so?"

Ellen raised her eyebrows. "Our daily report shows $7780 so far today, so more orders must have been rung in on Sunday. Heather just told me Charley was at George's all weekend, she would have noticed George leave and come here. Whoever did it, would have to come here to do that. She must be working with him after all."

Rob pondered. "Maybe he made up some excuse or something. You never know."

Ellen didn't look convinced. "I don't know Rob. I have a feeling they must be working together."

Rob agreed. "Sounds like it to me. Either way, we will never know. I'm getting more and more nervous about this whole business. I think we should just stay out of it."

After Ellen left the kitchen, Rob became more concerned over the fact that they had discovered the scam.

"George was willing to beat me up over a video. If he finds out we know about this... What then?" He thought about the severity of the dilemma to himself as he plated the orders.

Pacing in his apartment, George waited for Charley to arrive. He checked his voicemail.

"Hey there George. Dan here. Just wanted to make sure your letter of intent went through to your lender. Any problems give me a call. Mike and few others from our group are stopping by for dinner on The Ship tonight. Mike wants to show off the new venture to a few of the corporate planners. No big production needed. Just treat them like any other guests. Anyway, give me call if you need anything."

George wasn't expecting another visit until the closing. Now he would have to change his plans with Charley and get back to The Ship.

The doorman rang the apartment.

"Charley is here sir."

George told him to send her up.

Walking in, she sighed as she tossed her purse on the bar. Kicking off her shoes, she sunk down on the sofa.

"What do you want to do tonight?" she asked.

Sliding beside her, he rubbed her leg. Pushing her short skirt up to her waist, he saw she was naked underneath.

"I already know you want to do that," she said teasingly. "What about dinner?" she asked.

George knew she wouldn't be happy with the news.

"I regret to tell you this, but I must return to work tonight."

She sprang up. "What? Why? Ellen can handle it."

Easing her back down to the cushions, he pulled her bare legs apart, exposing her womanhood.

"I'm certain she can. But I have unexpected guests I must attend to," George said, running his fingers down her thighs to her heat.

Charley pouted. "So... no dinner, no night out, no sex, nothing... just go back to work?"

Smiling, he pushed her flat down on the sofa.

"I think we have time for one of those things on the list."

She sighed as she opened her legs giving him better access. He looked at her tempting body, then up into her eyes.

She knew what he wanted. He liked the show. Biting her lip, she began rubbing her self with a single finger. She saw his eyes gleam as he watched her perfect pink nail move in circles gently around her prize.

"What if I insist we have dinner and drinks before you get anywhere near this?" she asked, tapping her womanhood with a teasing tone.

Grabbing her wrists, he pinned her arms behind her head. With his free hand he slipped his belt out of his pants, wrapping it around her hands, pulling it tight.

"You may attempt to tease me my kitten. But I always get what I want."

Staring at him with sharp black eyes, Charley watched as he tied the belt around the sofa arm.

"So you're going to tie me up, fuck me, then send me back to work?" she asked.

Smiling, he looked into her eyes with a devilish grin. Saying nothing, he pulled his pants halfway down, not bothering to remove them. With his arms at her sides, he kneeled over her. Her eyes stared sharply into his as she parted her legs. Moving between her legs, with a single thrust, he pushed inside her.

Her hands tied, she lay in his hold. Right from the start, he thrust into her deep and hard, pumping furiously, rocking her body, shaking the sofa. She drew her legs back further, propping one on the sofa back, the other dangling high in the air. Shaking her with his thrusts, he liked the way her firm breasts bounced to his rhythm. Continuing his hard pounding for several minutes, he suddenly slowed. Charley strained her legs back farther as he moved to get deeper into her. Pushing into her with one final push, he paused as his release filled her womanhood.

Admiring the sight of her tanned body tied to his sofa, George breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction. Removing the belt, he pulled her up close to him.

"Don't worry my little kitten. There will be time for me to make it up to you tomorrow," he said, still breathing hard.

She stared at him without a word. Still angry their plans were canceled. He could see she her mood was hostile.

"I will take you shopping, how is that?" he asked.

Smiling, she dashed on top of him, straddling his lap.

"Anywhere I want to go?" she asked.

He nodded silently.

"Anything I want to buy?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

Smiling, he nodded again. She pressed her lips against his, staring into his open eyes, looking for any sign of a lie.

"Fine. I will tell Ellen to work for me tomorrow. You and I will spend the entire day shopping. We will have lunch, then shop until the stores close. Then we will go to dinner at wherever I choose and after that... Well, after that, you can have me any way you want me. And it better last longer than that little stunt you just pulled."

George winked. "Ah my little kitten. You are so easy to please aren't you?"

Charley reached between his legs, rubbing his still stiff manhood against her bare wetness.

"Maybe it's you who is easy to please," she replied coyly as she sprang off the sofa.

The Ship was nearly full by the time George and Charley arrived.

"Damn. It's busy as hell for a Monday," Charley commented as they walked through the crowded dining room. George was pleased.

"Indeed it is. And as it should be, after all we offer only the finest cuisine," he replied.

She shot him a smirk. "You sound like a commercial sometimes."

He offered no reply. She stared at him as they walked into the kitchen.

"You really believe all that bullshit don't you?"

Patting her bottom, he closed the office door behind them.

"Of course I believe. It's not bullshit if you see it through now is it?"

Tossing her purse on the desk, she sat in the chair.

"I'm making reservations for dinner now. Let's see... where should we go? Ruby's, Nicola's, Braza, Otto's, Barresi's... ooh what about Jag's?"

George interrupted. "No. Not Jag's."

She turned with a curious look. "What's wrong with Jag's? I hear it's great."

He shrugged as if not to care. "It's too far. It's way out in Fields Ertle. Let's stay in the city. We don't want to waste a minute of the night. I want to get you home and begin the best part of the evening you know."

She turned back to the computer. "Fine. Downtown... Oh I know, The Orchid's at Palm Court. It's in the Hilton on West Fifth.

"Excellent. We can walk in the evening air from my apartment," George said.

Spinning in her seat, she perched her hand on her hip.

"Walk? From your place? No no no George. I am not walking in high heeled shoes over the river and eight blocks up a hill."

He took her shoe in his hand and slid it off. Holding her foot, he kissed her pedicured toes.

"Then leave you shoes off. You have such beautiful feet. They delight me with their petite perfection, you look better without shoes."

She reveled in the sight of his affection as he rubbed her toes.

"Go out to The Orchids, barefoot. Do I look like I have even an ounce of hippie in me? I'm not going anywhere barefoot except the beach. Besides, I will be wearing the new shoes you are buying me tomorrow. I wonder which pair I will wear? The Miu Miu Mesh's, or the Valentino's, or the Gucci Bootie's? Oh... I know. The Manolo Blahniks. They are black lace thigh highs... Tell you what. I will not only wear them to dinner, I will wear them to bed. You'll love them, you'll see."

George's smile grew larger as he listened to her. "If you say I will, I truly believe I will."

She scowled. "Of course you will. They look great with skirts, dresses, anything short. But on these legs..." she said as she ran her nails up her thighs. "They will look best with nothing else at all."

Charley made the reservation online as George rubbed her feet. Having trouble, she tapped the keyboard in frustration.

"What the fuck!" she yelled, tapping the keys over and over. "It won't print."

A window flashed on the monitor, 'Paper empty'.

Charley pulled the drawer out of the printer.

"Jesus! What the hell?" she said.

George leaned over to look.

"Charley, there is no reason to jump to anger every time an issue arises."

She turned to him with a scowl.

"I just put paper in here this morning. It's gone now, all of it."

Opening a desk drawer, she took out more paper to refill the printer. George wondered about the minor mystery. Charley grew angrier.

"Someone stole my damn paper. Fucking assholes," Charley murmured under her breath.

The machine quickly sprang to life, slowly spitting out their reservation confirmation. The copy was very light, barely legible. Charley looked at the monitor, another window flashed across the screen, 'Replace Ink Cartridge'.

Charley slammed her hand on the keyboard.

"Son of a Bitch! I just replaced that ink cartridge too. It took forever to get that little thingy lined up again. I had to mess with it like five times."

George's face turned solemn as he pondered the situation.

He realized the only people with access to locked office were Rob and Ellen. "What were they printing? And why?" He wanted to find out immediately. Charley followed as he headed to the dining room looking for Ellen. Suddenly, in a sprint, Ellen passed by them through the swinging doors without a word. As he turned to catch her, she dashed away into the office. The door shut and locked before George could grab the handle.

"Ellen. Ellen, please open the door," he asked calmly.

"Not now George, just give me a minute."

George was perplexed at her response.

Rob noticed the scene as he expedited the orders.

"What's up?" he asked George.

"I just missed Ellen as she went into the office," George replied. "I wanted to go over a few things with her."

Rob watched for the door to open, but Ellen stayed locked inside. Concerned, Rob walked over and knocked on the door.

"Ellen, Ellen it's me."

The three stood waiting for several seconds, they heard only silence. Then Ellen cried out with a whimper.

"Not now Rob. Just give me a minute."

His mind flashed with imagination.

"Did George know about the reports? Was Ellen trying to avoid him, was she hiding in fear?"

"Rob grew worried. "Ellen, open the door. It's just me."

The handle turned. Rob opened the door and quickly shut it back.

"What's going on Ellen?"

She was seated on the old sofa, her hands holding her stomach.

"I don't know... I got a sharp pain and then I felt dizzy. It's getting worse,"

She writhed onto her side as Rob ran over.

"Oh my god Rob... I think I'm going to pass out."

Jumping up, Rob dialed 911 on the desk phone.

"The Good Ship, 102 Riverwalk Way, I have a 26 year old female here with severe abdominal pain on the verge of unconsciousness. Please send paramedics immediately."

Rob opened the door, explaining to George about Ellen's sudden illness. George looked at her with concern in his eyes as Rob kneeled at Ellen's side.

"Ellen, the EMT's are on their way. You just relax until they come. Everything will be fine."

Unable to speak, Ellen felt comfort in Rob's words. Through watering eyes, she noticed George standing at her feet. She saw genuine concern flash through his eyes. Even as she lay struggling in stabbing pain, she wished George wasn't at fault for the financial misdeeds on The Ship. In just a short time, he had caused many changes and made strong impressions in her life. She had no ill feelings towards him whatsoever, only respect and gratitude. Now, seeing him for the first time since secretly printing evidence off his own computer she felt guilty.

Suddenly, she felt the room spinning. With a surge of rushing hot flashes, George's worried face faded away into blackness as she closed her eyes and slipped out of consciousness.
Chapter 17

Standing outside with a smoking cigar, George watched for the ambulance. Rob stayed at Ellen's side, keeping track of her pulse and breathing while Miguel, Micah and Army were struggling to get the orders out alone. Maria had rushed to the office. Holding Ellen's hand in silence, she hung her head in intense worry.

In the dining room, nearly every table was full, only the Harden Group's reserved table remained empty. Tomorrow was the all-important closing date. The last thing George wanted now was for the VP's to show up and see flashing lights of an ambulance at the door.

Hearing the sirens echoing in the distance through the evening air, George stepped to the valet station. He stood waiting as the ambulance pulled in. Waving to the driver, he called out.

"Come this way, to the service entrance, follow me please."

Directing the EMT's to a delivery loading area, he followed behind the ambulance as it screeched to halt.

Not since the near fatal encounter on the drug boat had Rob felt more worried. Whispering comforting words to Ellen, he cooled her head with a cold towel. His eyes shed hot tears as he sat beside her. The EMT's came into the office laden with gear. Rob jumped away from the old couch, pulling Maria away with him.

"Thank God!" he said. "Please get her to University Hospital fast."

The Ship's crew couldn't help but gather outside the office as the scene unfolded in the crowded kitchen.

Checking Ellen's vital signs, the EMT's heaved her up onto a stretcher, quickly rolling her to the waiting ambulance. Rob jogged beside along the way.

"Ellen, if you can hear me. I'm coming with you. You're going to the hospital now, I will be right there with you."

Rob jumped into the ambulance. Before the doors shut, George appeared at the door.

"I know you are worried about Ellen, I am worried as well. But you must let them care for her now. We all need you here, not only are we at full capacity, but I have a special party arriving at any second. I am truly sorry Rob, but tonight I must insist you remain."

Rob spun around facing him. "Fuck that George! Ellen could die! I am going with her."

George looked at the EMT as he strapped and oxygen mask over Ellen's sleeping face.

"Is she in danger of death?" he asked.

The EMT kept on with his work. "Her vitals are erratic but stable. Her pulse is becoming rapid. We have to go now sir."

George looked at Rob. "You can do nothing for her now except be the man in her life. You are needed here. It is your work, your responsibility. If you leave now, and abandon The Ship and I... I will be forced to abandon you. Your job, your home, your income. It's your choice Rob."

Rob looked at Ellen under the mask. The EMT reached to close the door.

"She's in good hands sir. Please step away from the vehicle, we are leaving this instant."

Stepping back, Rob let the driver leave without further delay. He stood watching as the big van drove out onto the street, its sirens screaming as it sped off into the traffic.

"Damn you George! What the hell is so important about food at a time like this? Miguel can cook the damn food. Who the hell do you think is cooking it right now?"

George put his arm around Rob's shoulder as they walked back inside.

"I feel deeply sorry, but I must insist you stay. On any other night, I would accompany you to the emergency room myself. But tonight, I have very important guests arriving any minute. Their food must be cooked to perfection and impressive, only you can prepare it to my wishes. There is much importance with this meal. Please try to understand, if it were not so important to me, you and I both would be following Ellen as we speak. The moment the guests have been served, you are free to leave and stay with her as long as you like. I will call a car for you the moment you are finished."

Rob rubbed his head. His emotions were a roller coaster of worried, scared, sad and angry. As desperate as he was to go with Ellen, he realized he could not abandon their home and his job.

"God Damn you George. I can't believe this. If whatever it is you have planned is that important I will make it my mission to pull every dish off with perfection. But you have to understand, I... I love Ellen. I can't bear the thought of working here with her laying there possibly dying in the hospital."

George looked at his watch.

"You won't have to stay here long. I will call a car now to deliver Maria to the hospital immediately. She can remain at Ellen's side and call you with any news of her condition. Ellen will feel at ease with her nearby if she wakes."

Rob realized George was trying to make the best of the unfortunate situation.

"That would be good. I hope these people get here soon... I really need to leave. I feel terrible working while she... I mean she could..." Rob's words faded as tears began to flood his eyes again.

George grabbed Rob hard around the shoulders.

"To be a truly successful man... You must be strong, in all aspects of life, through the wonderful, the painful and the tragic. You must always walk head first into the darkness, even when you have great fear. It is the only path for man who wishes for success. Ellen deserves a successful man do you not agree?"

Rob could only nod his head as they walked back into the bustling kitchen. Suddenly the sounds in the hectic galley fell strangely quiet. No one spoke to Rob about the situation. They simply worked around him in silent unison, speaking only when necessary. The air was thick with tense emotion.

With Rob secured behind the line, George watched from the lobby for his guests. Just as he was about to light his cigar, he saw them arrive. The valet took their car and sped away. George opened the door with a big smile as they walked aboard.

"Good evening George. Do you always greet every guest like this or are we just special?" the Harden man asked.

George walked them past the hostess to their table.

"Of course you are special. Anyone who is buying my beautiful Ship is very special to me indeed," he laughed, the VPs laughed with him.

From the moment they were seated, the table came alive. Vivid colors, bold flavors and artistic pride were presented to them on polished plates. One after the other, Rob sent out perfectly prepared treats to the valued guests. George instructed the bar to pull nothing but the best wine from the stock.

Jules scribbled a list of the best five labels. Rob numbered them for her to accompany each course. She brought Rob a tray with shot glasses of each variety. Just as each course was nearly finished, he sipped the paired wine, adjusting every nuance of the final seasoning or sauce to mesh perfectly.

From his seat at the bar, George could see the joy on their faces as they ate. The VPs exchanged surprised glances to one another as the dishes were set before them. They nodded across the table in silent appreciation as they savored the fabulous food. Heads bobbed in reverence, quiet sighs and murmurs out numbered the comments.

As each course was finished, the table turned to their wine, always kept full as Jules popped the cork on bottle after bottle. The server couldn't even bus the table without pausing to answer a never-ending string of questions from the diners.

"Those stuffed olives in that last dish, what was in that filling again?"

"What was that brightly perfumed seasoning in that wild rice?"

"That Asian sauce on the crab cakes is mysterious. What was in that exactly?"

"What is the sauce on that fish?"

"What is that crust made of?"

"What is in that rub?"

"Where did Chef Anderson train? Do you know the name of the New York restaurant he came here from?"

The servers felt as if they had been thrust into a spotlight Food-TV interview.

George reveled in the success of the service. His guests were impressed. He stayed away from the table until the desserts arrived. Bringing fresh ground coffee beans in a French press to the table himself, he began to prepare their coffee as if it were his regular routine.

"I must admit the dessert before you is one my latest vices," he said, patting his stomach as he laughed.

"You must try this coffee, a wonderful Ethiopian variety from ancient native trees," he said with a smile as he poured steaming water over the course ground beans in the decanter.

"It is simply magnificent with this dessert."

Every eye at the table watched curiously as he pressed the plunger down into the press.

"These are many expensive machines to create fine coffee, but I still prefer this simple method."

Pouring the contents into a carafe, he swirled the black brew in the clear container. Looking at his watch, he counted off the seconds.

"These particular beans have a memorable history for me," he said in a near whisper.

They listened intently as he told the story of how he first discovered the coffee. Gently pouring each diner a cup, George began telling the tale.

"As a young man, while crossing the vast wilderness of Ethiopia on a motorcycle, a deadly sandstorm whipped up behind me. As the blowing sand approached, it blackened the sky... I feared for my life as it rushed to snare me into its black cloud of death. Suddenly, at the last possible second, I saw a small shelter in a tiny time-forgotten village. Heading towards it at full speed, a one hundred year old woman waved me into the door of the corrugated steel roofed shack. The shack shivered and creaked under the strain of the winds and sand. As the storm raged around us, I watched her silently hand grind and brew these very same beans before my eyes.

The aroma calmed me to an indescribable peace. With my first sip, I was hopelessly addicted. And I have been ever since. I always keep a personal cache with me wherever I travel in the world."

Breathing in the steam deeply, he sighed with a smile. "The aroma alone still brings me peace to this day, just as it did that during that terrible storm. Tonight, I am proud to share it with you. I hope you find it as wonderful as I do."

Placing the cups carefully beside their desserts, George stood back from the table. Spreading his arms out wide, he smiled.

"Now, I will leave you to enjoy."

The diners looked up at him in hushed appreciation. The coffee story filled them with curiosity. No one spoke a word. They simply took the cups in hand and sipped, nearly expecting some sort of magic spell to fall over them as the black brew touched their lips.

Rob's signature dessert was mesmerizing. It was a new version of his Virgin vanilla bean cheesecake. Delicate globes of silky cheesecake, flash fried to a crisp crust on the outside, hiding a warm fresh pomegranate center inside, dusted with powdered sugar infused with essence of orange and lemon... plus Rob's latest secret ingredient.

No one could figure out exactly what the subtle unique flavor was, but they all agreed they were intrigued by it. The deeply rich exotic coffee was the perfect compliment to the creamy dessert. As they finished, George returned.

"I hope you had an enjoyable meal. I am very happy you chose to dine with us tonight. The next time I see you will be tomorrow at our closing. After that, The Good Ship and all she has to offer will be under your control. I have enjoyed her comforts and luxuries. Now, you will be afforded the privilege of dining in this fine fashion everyday."

Laughing, he patted the senior VP on the back. The VP turned smiling.

"I gotta' hand it to you George, you've done a great job here. You are a natural born host as well. Are you sure you want to leave the restaurant business?"

George bowed his head as he leaned near. Almost whispering, he replied.

"As beautiful as The Ship is I have very pressing business back home. In addition, my fiancé is anxiously waiting for me to arrive. She will be my only concern now. Young, beautiful, ripe, and only twenty-six... With no children of mine own yet... I am certain you can understand."

The senior VP's faced face flushed red as his companions giggled. With a chuckle he replied.

"My wife Jill and I have been happily married for twelve years now. We have three wonderful children, but I think I can appreciate your point."

George patted him again as he walked them outside to the valet.

"Goodnight. I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning at the closing," George said as he bid them goodbye.

The party filed into the car, still sparkling with chatter about their amazing meal.

As the VP's car pulled away, another pulled in, driven by The Caller. George leaned into his window.

"Did you take the sister to the hospital?"

The Caller nodded.

"I will send Rob out shortly. Take him there as well then meet me at my apartment. We have much to prepare in the next 24 hours. We are very near the end of this journey my friend."

The Caller shrugged. "I wish you would fill me in on the details in advance instead of these last minute meetings, but we'll play it your way."

George didn't like being second-guessed.

"Things have worked out well so far wouldn't you agree? Soon, you will be a truly wealthy man. Just trust in my plan." George tapped the car's roof and walked away.

Walking back in, George thanked Rob for the amazing meal he prepared for the VP guests.

"You have my sincere thanks and gratitude. Now, go to your beloved Ellen, be by her side tonight. Your car is outside waiting."

Rob dashed to The Caller's car, not bothering to take the time to clean up or change. Arriving at the hospital in his dirty whites. Rob asked the desk clerk for Ellen's room directions.

"Down this hall, left at the double doors, right at the nurse station. Her door is on the left, number 107."

Rob jogged the halls until he came to Ellen's room. Opening the door quietly, he stepped into the silent room. Lit only by the blue light of the TV on the wall, Maria was watching a travel show about Thailand when she saw Rob coming in the door.

"Hi Rob!" Maria said smiling.

Shaking Ellen slightly, Maria woke her as Rob walked up to the bedside.

"Ellen, it's Rob, he's here now."

Ellen opened her sleepy eyes.

"Rob, when did you get here?"

"I just walked in, I came straight form work, can't you smell the kitchen on me?" he asked laughing, trying to lighten the nervous tension that had built up in him for past few hours.

Smiling, Rob sat beside her on the bed. Taking her hand into his, he asked her what had happened.

"What did they say the problem is? Are you okay?"

She hesitated before saying anything.

"More tests to do. They say I'm okay. But I have to stay for now... I can't take it. I want to go home. I just want to go home... with you."

Rob could see the tears welling in her eyes.

"It's okay. I will stay here with you," he said as he rubbed her shoulder.

Ellen frowned. "No, that's silly. Go home. Take a shower. Have a late night dinner with Maria. I will be out of here soon. Maybe tomorrow."

Rob couldn't bear the thought of leaving her. Working while she was being admitted and waiting hours to see her was hard enough. Going home without her would only result in a sleepless worried night. He was determined to stay with her until she was released.

"I am sleeping here, on the floor if I have to. I will go to work from here tomorrow."

Maria pointed to a nearby empty bed. "You can sleep there. The nurse said I could. I'm sure you can too."

Rob looked relieved. "See, I have a bed and this room has a shower. I'm staying."

Maria stood up gathering her things. "I will go back home now. I will come tomorrow if you are still here."

As Maria left, the nurse returned. She checked Ellen's vitals, and spread out a blanket on the spare bed.

"Will you be wanting to stay the night with her?" she asked.

Rob quickly replied yes.

"Here's your blanket. This is a private room, the bathroom and shower is right there. Towels are in the bathroom. There is a robe in the there too."

Rob thanked her as the nurse turned back to Ellen.

"Ellen, do you need anything before I go?"

Ellen replied that she didn't and thanked her before she left. Rob closed the door behind the nurse.

"I'm trying out this shower, then I'm coming right back to cuddle. We can watch a movie or something."

Warm and refreshed from his shower, Rob rolled the empty bed next to Ellen's. Climbing in, he snuggled beside her. They talked as Ellen changed the channels until she stumbled onto a documentary about organic farming.

"Hey, wait. I want to see this," Rob said.

They watched, lying close together until Ellen fell asleep. Rob clicked off the TV, falling asleep with his arm around her. Her pain was tempered with relief. He held her as she dreamed.

The sounds of the morning came early at the hospital. Dawn had barely broke when the nurse came in.

"Hello there sleepy heads," the nurse said as she stood beside the bed. "Ellen we need to get you up and ready for your tests."

Rob dressed in his dirty clothes. "I might as well go on home. By the time I get changed it will be time for work. I will see you when I get off. If you're still here, call me. Hopefully you will be home by then."

Ellen hugged him as he was leaving.

"I want to go home. I feel fine," she said, trying to rise.

The nurse quickly commented. "I don't think you will be leaving today. It's all up to the doctor. Let's see what the tests say. We will know more then."

Rob hugged her hard. "Don't worry. I will see you either way, right after work."

The nurse rolled over a wheel chair to push Ellen down the hall. Rob watched in sadness as he stepped out of the room.

Across the city, George and The Caller pulled into the parking garage of the downtown building for the closing.

"I will be out in under an hour," George said as he left the car and walked to the lobby. The familiar VPs were seated with several others from the company.

"Hello there George," Dan said as he stood up to shake George's hand. "Today's the big day!" he laughed as George took his seat.

George smiled at him. "Indeed it is. The sun is shining, the sky is free of clouds and good fortune is in the air."

The rest of the closing party took their places at the big oval table.

After a half hour of signing papers, George was presented with his check. He opened the envelope.

"Thirteen million, five hundred thousand dollars and zero cents," he said to himself.

The group gathered papers and turned to leave. Dan patted him as he passed by George's chair.

"That's a pretty penny. I hope it goes a long way towards your plans."

George rose. Standing, he tucked the check in his breast pocket.

"I am certain it will. This morning, I woke a happy man. Once I arrive back in my homeland, I will be even happier."

They exchanged goodbyes as Dan walked with him to the lobby.

"A very good day to your sir, and again, congratulations. A pleasure to do business with you," Dan said with a wave.

George waved a goodbye as he exited the lobby. The Caller pulled up to the curb. George slid in the big Benz, shut the door and sped off.

"To the bank. Then we will head back to my place. We are in the home stretch now. Only a few moves left to make before this Cincinnati game is over."
Chapter 18

Tuesday started as usual for the crew. Miguel was dragging from a particularly rough late night romp. Micah was also late but scurrying to catch up. Armando was late as well, but Maria had already learned the opening duties and had begun the tasks quickly. Charley was in the office alone. Rob was stirring steaming stockpots of sauces when he heard her yelling.

"What the fuck? How the hell did this happen! Son of a bitch!" Rob heard her yell.

He had never heard her so angry. Normally she drifted in and out of the doors without any real communication with the busy kitchen crew. Today she was livid.

Rob stood behind the line as Charley came out of the office door.

"Rob! Come in here!" she screamed, slamming the door shut.

Rob wondered what the big deal was about as he walked to the door. Standing in the doorway, he peeked inside.

"Come in and shut the fucking door!" she yelled.

Closing it behind him, he stood close to her desk.

"Jesus Charley. What's the big deal?" he asked.

She clicked the mouse on the computer.

"This is the big deal," she said, pointing to the screen.

Rob looked at the monitor. "What?" he asked, puzzled.

"It's gone," she replied, pushing her chair away from the desk.

"What's gone?" he asked, looking at the blinking screen.

"Everything. It's empty. All the reports, inventory records, sales... even the employee payroll... Everything is gone."

Scowling in wonder, Rob stared at the screen. He clicked the tabs for the reports. Just as she said, every category was devoid of a single entry.

"Are you sure you're logged in right? It can't all be gone, something must be wrong here."

Charley sat arms crossed, kicking her foot in an angry nervous twitch. "It is gone Rob, all of it, everything from day one until now. I have tried everything. I rebooted it twice. I checked every connection. The software is still here, but it is totally blank."

Rob moved to the keyboard. "Maybe you're not logged in right."

He continued logging out and back in, each time with the same result.

"Don't you think I thought about that? I'm not fucking stupid you know," she replied in a huff.

Rob felt a panic as he clicked on every tab. "What the hell? How are we even going to get paid? Our last two weeks of labor hours were in there. Tomorrow is payday, what are we supposed to do now?"

Charley sat pursing her lips as she dialed George's phone again. She had called him several times in the past hour yet never received a call back, not even a text. She was expecting to go to lunch and then shopping as he promised. His lack of reply was infuriating her.

A knock rapped at the door. As Rob opened it, a middle-aged woman with a large binder of papers stepped in.

"Hello!" she said looking at Charley. "You must be Ms. Peyton I presume. I'm Kim Gray. It's good to meet you," she said, extending her hand. "I am the training front of house manager. Paul McClure, the GM will here shortly as well as Peg Conner, the training kitchen manager."

Charley and Rob sat dumbfounded. Kim stepped closer, continuing to extend her hand towards Rob. "You must be Chef Anderson..."

Charley spun in her seat, staring at the smiling woman in shock.

"Uh, yeah I'm Rob," he said, shaking her hand. "What can we do for you?"

Kim shuffled the heavy binders in her arms.

"We will have a quick meet and greet then let you guys do what you normally do for today. Tomorrow, we will go over the new changes we will be making."

Rob and Charley looked at one another in wonder, then back at Kim, staring, half stunned.

"You are who again?" Rob asked

"I'm Kim Gray, the operations manager... from Harden Restaurant Group."

He stared at her with curious eyes.

"Were you hired by George as my assistant manager?" Charley asked.

"Oh no, I am from the Harden Group," Kim replied. "We purchased The Good Ship Cincinnati yesterday. Were you not aware? I thought surely George would have told... Judging by your faces I am assuming this is shocking news."

Rob shot a look of surprise at Charley. Fuming, she stood up. Taking her purse, she walking away without a word, dialing her phone in angry silence. Rob looked back at Kim with a curious look of surprise.

"George sold The Ship?" he asked.

Kim looked uncomfortable. "Umm, yeah. We have planning the sale for weeks. I was under the impression you were all in the loop but I see now that obviously I was mistaken."

Stomping through the dining room, Charley went to her car in a fast trot. Kim and Rob followed behind. Stopping in the lobby, they watched her leave.

"I take it she was really surprised. She's the manager correct?" Kim asked.

Rob laughed nervously. "Yeah. Well, she was anyway."

Kim quickly replied to his comment. "Oh, don't get me wrong, you can all stay in place. I'm sure there is room for Charley on the manager roster. You will retain your position as head chef as well."

Rob felt a relief. "What about the servers and my crew?" he asked.

Kim looked concerned. "Hopefully they too will stay. We will train everyone to the Harden way of doing things of course. Usually we usually see a few leave. But all are welcome to stay. I hate to see Ms. Peyton so upset on our first introduction. I had no idea... This must be a real shock. I feel terrible. I was under the impression Mr. Achmed had explained the transition."

Rob looked at her with laugh.

"Yeah, you would have thought so, wouldn't you?" he said, with a wave of his hands.

She continued her concerned look as she walked with him back to the kitchen.

"Introduce me to your team. I can't wait to get to know everyone's names."

Rob realized who the "Special Guests" had been now. George had used Rob's talent to sell off The Ship without even uttering a word to anyone.

"That's why he dragged me back from Vietnam... And kept me from the hospital. That shady bastard," Rob said under his breath.

Kim looked at him even more confused now. He saw her reaction and laughed.

"Just an inside joke. Come on in and meet the team," he said with a laugh.

Rob called for the crew to come to the pass. As they stood looking curiously at Kim, Rob introduced them.

"These are The Good Ship's dutiful cooks and crew."

Pointing, he named the crew.

"Miguel, our souse chef, He's currently training to take a larger role towards lead chef. Micah here is a solid cook on the line and stable in a rush, and Armando... Well, Army takes care of us from behind the scenes. He is training to cook now. And this is Maria. She is taking over Armando's job and learning very fast."

Kim shook their hands in turn.

"This is Kim Gray, our new manager guys," Rob said to the crew. "George sold The Ship to these fine folks, the Harden Group. But before you freak out, just relax. We are all keeping our jobs."

The crew looked on in silent shock as Kim explained the planned meeting schedule. Rob walked into the office with her after she finished.

"So what do we do now?" he asked.

She shrugged with a smile.

"Well today is like any other for you guys. We want to see the crew in action during a service so can make our proficiency reports. Wednesday we will be closed except for a morning staff meeting to introduce ourselves formally and explain what are plans are. We remain closed for two weeks after that. Construction crews will work night and day to get the remodel complete. If all goes according to schedule, we will re-open under our new Harden Group name, The Bahama Breeze just 15 days from now. Hopefully everyone can make the transition quickly and easily."

Sitting on the old sofa, Rob asked about the details.

"What about the wages. I have a salary and a commission... Well, I did have."

Kim skirted the subject. "Paul will go over all of that at the meeting. He will sit down with you and answer any questions you have. He's a talented guy, a master at opening new locations. After we have everything ship shape, forgive the pun, a store manager will be assigned here and you will all work under him or her. I have high hopes they will assign me to this store, but nothing has come down from corporate as of yet."

Rob looked concerned. "So you're not the store manager?"

Kim shook her head. "No I am the operations manger until we reopen. I train the front of the house for new store openings. Peg will train the kitchen staff. When our jobs are done, we move on to the next opening. At Harden we all have our specific duties. It's a well oiled machine."

Rob looked forlorn.

"Not to be rude, but I haven't seen much good food come out of a machine. We actually cook here. In fact, I've never even worked at a corporate store before."

She nodded with a sigh. "Just bear with us through the opening training. I think you will be surprised how well our process works. I'm sure you will find our way of food service fast, efficient and profitable. I overheard that Dan mentioned promoting you to our corporate store test kitchen as a company Chef. He really likes your recipes. You could be creating menu items served in over one hundred locations nationwide, and even grocery stores. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Rob nodded. Outside he faked a smile. Inside he was twisting with despair. He had spent years training to cook and create good food with fresh ingredients, as a chef is supposed to do. He had no interest in creating the next frozen food sensation for a factory style corporate commissary.

Deciding to get back to his simmering sauces and put the thoughts of this shocker on hold, Rob thanked Kim for the info and walked back to the kitchen. As he stirred his sauce, his thoughts were fixed on the sudden turn of events. He doubted Kim's corporate glee would rub off on him anytime soon. Serious changes were coming for the crew and Kim's reluctance to discuss wages couldn't be a good sign.

The Ship's final service flew by without incident. Kim was polite to the crew as they worked, but her constant note taking had everyone on edge. As the dinner shift wound down, Rob explained to her about Ellen.

"Oh my! She passed out right here in the office, in the middle of service? That must have been terrifying. Do they have a diagnosis?" she asked.

Rob shook his head. "Not yet. All I know right now is that she is still in the hospital. I really want to get over there as soon as possible"

Kim put her hand on his shoulder. "Of course. You go on to the hospital now. I will see you here tomorrow for the meeting."

Rob thanked her.

"The crew is totally capable of taking care of the closing work," he said as he took his jacket in hand.

Kim nodded. "I will help them close out."

Rob looked at her with doubt. "Are you sure? I mean you don't know much about The Ship, it's your first day and all..."

She laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Chef Rob, I have opened and trained twenty six stores in my career with Harden, and more before that at my pervious job. I'm pretty sure I can handle this place."

He smiled genuinely and thanked her.

"Thanks Kim. I will see you in the morning!"

She returned the smile.

"Nine sharp. We have the meeting then it's straight back to work disassembling the kitchen. New equipment is on the way as we speak."

She waved as he left.

After calling Maria a cab home, Rob went to see Ellen. At the hospital, he found Ellen's room empty. The nurse was in the bathroom stocking towels and soap.

"Hi, has Ellen been moved to another room or has she left?" he asked.

She turned with towels in her arms.

"She's coming back from the third floor now. She will be back here soon," she said as she took the dirty towels and walked away.

Rob watched TV as he waited. He couldn't wait to tell Ellen the shocking news about The Ship. After a few minutes, Ellen came through the door in her wheelchair. Easing herself into the bed, the nurse reviewed her medications with her then left.

"What's going on Ellen? Do they know what is wrong yet?" he asked.

Ellen explained that the doctor was coming in to explain the test results.

"We will know here in few minutes I guess," Rob said in frustration. "I don't understand why they don't tell you something, it's been almost two days."

Pulling his chair to her bedside, he waited beside her, half watching the show on the muted television screen.

"Ms. Addison," The doctor said as he walked in. "I see you are looking well."

Rob moved from his seat out of the way as the doctor stood beside her.

"I have your tests results here," he said, swiping across an iPad. "The sudden pain was a cause for concern of course, but the bleeding was what really had us worried. The good news is that you are fine. Your vitals are back to normal and you're re-hydrated."

Rob listened intently as the doctor reviewed the results.

"We were concerned about the bleeding of course, but these last tests confirm your baby was unaffected by the placenta previa issue that caused the problem you experienced. With proper care you should deliver a healthy baby in about thirty two weeks."

Rob felt his legs quiver, nearly giving out at the knees. Nearly falling to the empty seat, both the doctor and Ellen turned quickly as Rob sat down with a thud. Seeing Rob's lightheadedness, the doctor asked if he was okay. Rob rubbed his head in disbelief and looked up with a nod.

"Ellen... You mean... you're pregnant?" he asked in shock.

The doctor raised his eyebrows, first at Rob, then towards Ellen. She looked at Rob in a silent nervousness.

"I can see you two have a few things to discuss," the doctor said, smiling to Ellen.

After explaining her medications, he asked her to wait in the room until she was released. After those instructions, he casually walked out of the room.

Ellen was terrified to talk about it with Rob, she found out hours after being admitted that she was pregnant. Still, she had no idea how to face Rob with the news.

"I didn't know what to say Rob. They told me I was pregnant and that I may have to force abort. Then they said I was okay but needed more tests. I didn't know if I was even going to be able to keep the baby when you came in after work. I wasn't going to say anything until I knew for sure."

Pacing the small room, Rob held his head in his hands as she explained. Stopping in his tracks, he shot a confused look at her.

"You knew and you just said nothing? Jesus Ellen what a thing to keep secret!"

She was nearly in tears.

"What if they had to take it Rob?" I didn't know what was going to happen, I didn't know what to say and I was scared you would..."

She began to sob. He felt bad for causing her to be upset as he slid into the bed next to her.

"It's okay Ellen. Calm down, now don't start crying."

Rob took her hand in his.

"The doctor, he just said everything is okay right?"

Ellen looked relieved. "Yeah, I'm okay but what about you, and us... I mean... this is a big deal and if you don't want to be..."

Rob shot her a scowl. "If I don't want to be? Of course I want to be Ellen! Do you think I was going to run away and leave you or something?"

She looked sad again. "I didn't know what to think. It all happened so fast and I didn't even know about the baby until hours after I was here. I was just scared Rob... I'm still scared."

He embraced her in a calming rocking hug.

"I understand. It's okay now. Everything is okay," he whispered.

Suddenly, he paused and looked at her with a look of surprise.

"Ellen... We are going to have a baby!"

She smiled through her tears.

"Yeah I kinda' noticed," she replied with a sniffle.

He hugged her hard again then eased off as he realized he was squeezing her belly.

"It's fine Rob. I can still hug you know," she said with a teary laugh.

He held her quietly. The news of Ellen's pregnancy shoved the thoughts of The Ship's sudden sale out of his mind completely as he lay still in the bed beside her.
Chapter 19

After a brief sleep, Rob shot awake to the sounds of a commotion in the hall. The nurses were struggling to strap down an out of control patient in the throws of a bad drug episode. Ellen didn't wake from her sleep. He looked at her face. She looked like a peaceful angel to him. Not wanting to wake her, he slid out of the bed quietly. Dressing, he closed the door and walked to the nurse's station.

"Hi there. Can you tell me if Ellen Addison is being released today?"

The nurse pecked at her keyboard.

"Looks like she is not scheduled to be released this morning... You would need to check with her doctor."

Rob asked her if the doctor was available.

"Ellen has Dr. Richards. He comes back in at seven this evening."

He looked at her with frustration. "So I won't know until then?"

The nurse nodded. "Only Dr. Richards can release her... so, you will have to wait until he comes back on shift."

Thanking her, he walked back to Ellen's room. She was still asleep. Reluctantly, he decided to head back to the Lady Jane and get ready for work. The meeting on The Ship was mere hours away. As a father to-be, his sudden job transition had just taken on a new importance. As the cab dropped him off in the marina, Rob saw Maria sitting on a bench beside the office, a thick mop handle sat across her legs. Walking up to her, she sprang up.

"Rob! Many problems! I'm so happy to see you!" she said excitedly.

He looked at the fat stick in her hand.

"What's with the big stick? Are you going frog gigging?" he asked with a laugh.

She held it out, shaking it. "I had to sleep here last night beside our things. Someone was trying to steal them, I kept them away through the night."

Rob looked behind her, a pile of items sat beside her. Looking closer he recognized Ellen's Army duffle and some of their clothes and shoes.

"What the hell is all this doing out here?" he asked as he walked over, rummaging through the pile.

"These are my clothes, and Ellen's too. That is her duffle... Maria! Why is our stuff out here?"

She pointed to the slip where the Lady Jane had been docked.

"Look! The big boat... it's gone. It wasn't here when I came home last night. I had no way to call so I went to the office and found our things beside the door. When the office opened this morning, I asked what happened and they said the owner boarded and left yesterday."

Looking down the docks, Rob saw no sign of the sleek white vessel. Running down to the end of the dock, he scanned the slips, then the open water. There was no sign the Lady Jane had ever been there.

"What the? God-damn you George!" he screamed at the open water.

Walking back to Maria, his head held low, he felt hopeless.

"I can't believe it's gone. Have you been sitting here all night?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "A man was looking through our stuff when I got here. I told him they were ours but he laughed and tried to take things. When I tried to stop him, he pushed me away. I was sure he would fight me. I saw the old mop outside the office. I broke off the bottom and warned him to go away. He left, but returned with another man later in the night. They both came very close to me. I warned them again, but they only laughed. I had to strike them both very hard. They ran away, but I worried they would return. I stayed awake on watch here. The man in the office says we have to gather our things and leave or he will throw them away. I didn't know where to go and I can't carry them all alone. I'm so glad you are back now. Where can we go now?"

Rob looked at Maria in the bright morning sun. She was dressed in a yellow sundress and sandals with sunglasses atop her head. No one would have ever imagined she was a well-trained deadly top guard from a drug gang. Rob knew just how dangerous she could be, but the sight of her dressed so feminine, armed with a big mop handle made him laugh.

"I bet those guys are so embarrassed about the hundred pound girl that kicked their asses with a mop. Serves them right. I wish I could have seen that. That sounds hilarious."

Maria sat beside Rob on the concrete curb.

"Where can we go now?" she asked again as he thumbed through his phone.

"I don't have time to do much right now. We have to get to work and my clothes are in that pile. We can't carry all this stuff and I sure don't want it thrown out. I will call a cab. We will go to a hotel for now I guess."

Asking in the marina office, Rob was given several trash bags to pack their belongings into. They filled the bags as they waited for the cab. Once it arrived, they packed the trunk and back seat and headed off.

"Where to?" The cabbie asked.

Rob looked at his watch.

"The closest cheap hotel I guess."

The cabbie asked again. "Sorry buddy. I don't make hotel reservations. I don't know what they cost."

Rob scanned his phone searching for prices.

"The Millennium, West fifth," he said, seeing it was the cheapest hotel nearby.

In mere minutes the cab rolled in front. Rob grabbed a rolling cart and loaded their things as the cabbie waited. Walking into the lobby, he stopped at the clerk's desk. She was eyeing the pile of loaded trash bags on the cart with suspicion. Her stare turned to Rob, still dressed in his dirty whites from the night before.

"Can I help you sir?" she asked with fake politeness.

"We need a room please," Rob replied.

The clerk paused, shooting a glance at Maria. "How many will be staying?"

Fumbling for his debit card, Rob found only his ID and a few crumpled bills.

"Uh... three," he replied, still searching for the bankcard.

Typing on her keyboard, she quickly replied. "I have a double room for one twenty five per night."

He counted out the bills... he had only thirty-eight dollars. "Let's see here..."

She noticed him counting bills and interrupted. "I'm sorry sir, we require a credit card for check-in."

Desperately, he began rummaging through the bags on the cart. "I have a bank card here... somewhere..."

She watched for several minutes as Rob franticly searched the bags.

"Son-of-a-bitch... I can't find it," he said as he dug in haste.

The clerk was looking nervous now. A security guard walked over slowly, eyeing the pair as Rob searched through the clothes. As items fell to the lobby floor, Maria piled them back on the cart. Rob fumbled through the jumbled mess, but still could not find the card.

"I can't find it right now and I have to get to work. Can we check in and bring the card later?"

The clerk smiled smugly. "No, I'm sorry."

Rob knew it was useless to try any further.

"God-damn George!" he said in loud whisper.

The clerk raised her eyebrows, shooting a glance at the guard.

"Sir, I hate to cause you any problems, but you will have to move along outside until you find your credit card," the clerk said frankly.

The guard moved closer to Rob. With a stern look, he rested one hand on his nightstick. Rob stopped searching, looking up at him nervously. Maria sensed the tension and quickly stepped between them. Rob put his arm around Maria smiling.

"I apologize for our delay here sir," Rob said. "I will keep looking through this stuff outside. If I don't find my card I will call a cab and we will be on our way," Rob said.

Nodding towards the clerk, Rob smiled to the guard as he pushed the cart outside, towing Maria close at his side. Once outside, he quickly turned to Maria.

"Don't worry about fighting anyone Maria. You'll end up in prison if you beat up a guard in the middle of a hotel lobby. You don't have to worry about our safety. He wasn't going to hurt us, I'm sure we just look a couple of homeless people to him. Things will be fine. Just relax and let me take care of things from here on."

Looking at his watch, Rob knew he was running out of time to get to work. Their meager savings had been hidden on the Lady Jane, now it was gone. With only thirty-eight dollars to his name, he knew they could barely pay for another cab, let alone a hotel. The missing bankcard would prevent them from getting a room anyway.

The sun was coming on hot as the morning came into full bloom. Standing on the busy street, he wondered how he could take their things to a safe place, not to mention make it to work on time for the big meeting. Just then he remembered Maria was coming to work with him. He would have to stow their belongings and leave them unattended, unless he took them to The Ship with them.

"What a first impression," Rob said under his breath. "Show up in dirty clothes, dragging a big pile of our stuff with us, homeless. This is hopeless."

Rob felt the pressure turn to fear. They were all three officially homeless, their meager belongings stuffed in trash bags, piled on a borrowed hotel luggage cart. Standing stranded near penniless in a hotel parking lot.

Earlier this morning, Rob was beaming with happiness over Ellen's recovery and the news of their child. Now, just two hours later, their whole world had crashed down abruptly. Still in her hospital room, Ellen had no idea, and nowhere to come home to when released either.

Taking a seat on a bus bench, Rob wondered what to do. In two hours, the Harden managers and his crew would be filing onto The Ship. How could he face the new owners under these circumstances? It was too much, too embarrassing to face.

"Miguel! He's our only hope," Rob said out loud.

Calling Miguel, Rob paced the sidewalk, praying he would answer. He knew calling a cook early in the morning was a long shot, but it was their only option now. Miguel's number went to voicemail. Rob tried the number two more times. Just as he was about to give up, a sleepy voice answered.

"Hola," Miguel said in a drowned out tone.

"Miguel! It's Rob. I am stuck at the Millennium Hotel, on West Fifth Street. We have to get to work shortly, all our things are here in trash bags. We have nowhere to put them until we get off. Can you come get us?"

Miguel's sleepy hung-over mind couldn't process the words as fast as Rob spewed them out.

"You're what? Stuck where? Why aren't you on the big boat?" he asked, yawning.

Rob cut him off. "I will explain later. Please, can you come get us?"

Miguel paused. "I would sure, but I don't have a car. Army only has the scooter."

Rob felt a sinking feeling. "Damn. I'm going to get fired before I even start my first day."

Miguel was waking up now. "Wait... Let me think. Uh... my sister's boyfriend has a truck. I call Maria and have her ask Jose to come get you. West Fifth you say?"

Rob felt relief wash over him. "Yeah, Millennium Hotel, West Fifth street. You can't miss us, we're out front in the parking lot, with a cart piled down with our stuff like a couple of homeless people."

Miguel repeated it back. "Okay, seet tight. I will call him, he will come if he ees home."

Rob waited on the bus bench with Maria in nervous tension. The thought of even a single day of homelessness was more then he could bear right now. Shortly, an old Ford truck pulled up to them.

"You Rob?" the driver asked.

"Yes! Thank you so much. Can you take us to Miguel's right away? We can just make it to work if we hurry."

Jose nodded. Maria tossed their stuff in the bed of the truck. Tossing the last bag in the back, Rob motioned for Maria to climb into the truck bed with him.

"We will ride back here, so we can keep this stuff from blowing out into the street," he said, helping her over the side.

As they sped over the city streets to Miguel's, Rob and Maria bounced in the bumpy truck bed. He looked through the tangle of clothes, fishing out a pair of his cleanest wrinkled whites, gathering what he needed for work from the pile of ruffling clothes in the wind.

Pulling in front of Miguel's run down apartment, he had never felt so glad to see such a sad sight. Miguel came out to the sidewalk barefooted.

"Jesus man. You were put out? What the hell happened?"

Rob rolled his eyes. "I will explain later. Right now we have to get this stuff inside and get ready for work. The new owners are having a big meeting first thing, I'm going to look like hell in these wrinkled clothes."

Miguel helped carry in the belongings. Jose honked and waved goodbye before speeding off.

Once inside, Maria shook her head with a sigh. The room was strewn with empty beer cans, stained dishes and dirty clothes. Walking into the kitchen, she frowned at the over loaded sink filled with crusted plates, dirty pots, glasses and pans. Stacking them on the crowded counter, she mumbled in Vietnamese. Rob looked at the clock.

"Do you have an iron? My whites are a mess," he asked.

Miguel shrugged. "I dunno'... maybe."

Digging through his bedroom, Miguel came out empty handed.

"Hey! I have some clean whites my mamma just brought over with the laundry. They may be too short, but they are clean," he said smiling wide.

Miguel fetched the pants and jacket from his room. Rob held them up to his waist, examining the size.

"These are way too short, but I will have to wear them anyway. Thanks man."

Miguel nodded and smiled again. "Si si. You put them on, we have to get going here quickly."

Dashing to the bathroom, Rob took the fastest shower of his life. Drying as best he could with a still damp towel off the shower door, he dressed in Miguel's high-water pants. Coming out feeling semi-acceptable, Rob was as ready as he could be.

"How are we getting to work?" he asked Miguel.

Miguel looked puzzled. "We usually take the bus, or the scooter," he replied as he pointed to a tiny Chinese scooter propped on the patio.

"Both of you? On that thing?" Rob laughed.

Miguel shrugged. "Si. Eets all we have."

Armando came out of his room dressed in only boxer shorts.

"Hey Chef, what are you doing here?" he asked, yawning.

In Spanish, Miguel quickly explained Rob's recent dilemma. Army looked at Rob's bags of clothes and then at Maria. She was working her way through the pile of dirty dishes with diligence.

"We can't all ride on that scooter. I guess it's the bus. Damn I hope we are not late on our first day," Rob said with a sigh.

Armando spoke up. "We have a ride today!" he said enthusiastically.

A slim twenty something year old girl emerged from Army's room, her blonde hair in tangles. Rubbing her eyes, she walked slowly into the room, wearing only see-through panties and an Applebee's work shirt.

"What's up?" she asked as she blinked her squinting eyes.

Armando spoke up. "Amanda, this is Rob, our chef. We all need a ride to The Ship. Can you take us?"

Amanda looked around the room, her vision still trying to focus.

"Yeah sure. I will get dressed."

She slipped back into Army's room, coming back out a few minutes later looking more presentable as she brushed her hair.

The hurried crew piled into the car. Sitting in the front seat, Armando lit a purple blunt as they headed off. Passing it to Amanda, she took long puffs off of it as they drove. Handing it back to Miguel, he drew the smoke in deeply then held it out to Rob. Rob sat crowded between Miguel and Maria in the back seat. With a wave of his hand, he shook his head declining. Miguel shrugged, passing it back to Armando. Maria shot Rob a knowing smile causing Rob to laugh.

"These guys never stop with the weed," he told her as she giggled.

Miguel coughed out the smoke. "Hell no we never stop. Not as long as we have money anyway. You sure you don't want a hit? You look like you need eet."

Rob shook his head again. "No thanks amigo. I need all my wits today. It's been a rough morning to say the least."

Miguel laughed. "That ees why we smoke eet man. Without the weed, every morning ees a rough morning."

Maria giggled again. Rob watched Amanda take long tokes off the blunt. Nervously, he scanned the streets for cops as they made their way across the river.

Pulling into The Ship's parking lot, Amanda dropped the crew off at the side entrance. Rob and Maria jogged up the gangplank as Miguel and Army walked slower behind, discreetly puffing on the last of the blunt. Rob was feeling more confident about the day's events as he stepped into the kitchen.

Kim was in the office.

"Hi Chef!" she said as she saw Rob walking in. Give me five minutes. You and the crew can take a seat in the dining room. Paul is getting the staff together for the meeting as we speak."

Rob smiled as he told her he would be out in a minute. Taking a gym bag from his locker, he went into the crew restroom. Brushing his teeth and rinsing his hair, he hoped the scent of Army's skunky smoke was washed out. Quickly spritzing a shot of body spray, he returned to the kitchen.

Taking their seats in the dining room, the kitchen crew sat alongside Rob. The servers filed in, grouping together. One crewmember was missing... Charley. No one had seen or heard from her since she stormed out the day before. The entire staff was now assembled except for her and Ellen.

"Hello everyone! I am Paul McClure," Paul said as he stepped to the front of the group. "I head up new openings for the Harden Restaurant Group. I have just learned that none of you were aware that we purchased The Good Ship until yesterday. In my eighteen years of opening new locations, that is a first for me. I would have preferred we had not started off with such a shock, but we do have a schedule to keep so there is nothing I can do about it now. I'm sure you all have questions and concerns. Let me start by assuring you, all of you will have the opportunity to continue working here with us."

The servers and crew mumbled quietly to one another.

"I think you will find we are a terrific company to work for. Obviously we will make many changes. We will be closing for about two weeks, then re-opening under the new name. At that time, hopefully you will all work with us as employees of 'The Bahama Bay'.

More mumbles came from the crew as they heard the new name.

"Our focus with this beautiful location will be offering our patrons fun and exciting dishes with a Caribbean flair. From the food, to the atmosphere, our goal is to transport our guests to a vacation style island paradise. Everyone knows how popular Jimmy Buffet is in this town, and you might say our theme is 'Parrot Head' style. So we feel The Bahama Bay will be a perfect fit here in Cincinnati. We will get into the details as we go along...

As grand opening employees, you are all considered honored Bahama Bay 'Natives' to Harden. That's the highest honor in our company. After your training, you will always have seniority over new hires. We call new hires 'Islanders'. Natives train and help Islanders succeed and learn how we do things here at Harden."

The staff whispered to each other again as he went on speaking.

"The lady to my right, Kim Gray will be your manager until we officially open. After we are up and running, a permanent manager will be assigned. For now, Kim will address all questions and concerns. She has been a Native with us for over a decade and she will train our front of house Natives with the skills they need to be successful here at Harden. The back of the house Natives will be trained by Chef Peg, she will be arriving after the kitchen equipment and stock are in place.

Armando whispered angrily to Rob with a scowl. "He says we are going to be his what? His Natives? That's like a slave right? Fuck him Amigo... I'm not anybody's slave. I will..."

Rob cut him off with a fast elbow to the ribs as Paul went on speaking.

Paul smiled at the crowd sympathetically, "I realize this is a sudden unexpected transition but I assure you, working at Harden can be a rewarding career. If you follow the training and managerial tutoring, you can rise up through the ranks to a solid career. We are a fortune 500 Company. We own and operate over two hundred locations across America and we are growing aggressively. Our frozen menu items are featured in over a thousand grocers nationwide as well. There a lot of room for growth with us for all of you."

Rob wasn't impressed by Paul's corporate promises. The servers weren't either. Nonetheless, in silent attention, everyone listened as Paul finished his introduction.

"Now, we are on a fast timeline and we need to get started right away, so I will hand the meeting over to Kim and she will get you all ready to go. Thank you for your patience in this transition and I hope to see you all at our Grand Opening."

Taking Paul's place, Kim clapped, encouraging the crew to clap along with her as Paul gathered his papers and waved goodbye.

Kim smiled as Paul walked away with a wave.

"Hello Natives! I'm Kim Gray. Today I will be processing your paperwork, issuing training manuals and getting to know all of you by name. I have manuals and study guides for every position here. If you would, please form a line, I will pass out the hiring forms and training guides for your position. Please have your ID ready, I need copies of everyone's ID for your paperwork."

The servers looked at one another, slowly rising off their seats, they formed a line in front of the table stacked with stapled manuals and forms. Miguel shot Rob a worried look.

"I don't have-a no ID! Army don't have an ID either..." he whispered franticly.

Micah leaned over to Rob. "My license is suspended man. I don't have an ID either."

Rob tried to calm them.

"Don't freak out. Micah, tell them you need to get a new one. Go to the BMV and get a state ID. Miguel, Army, just hang back and let me see what I can do. Maria, you still have the passport The Caller gave you in Bangkok right?"

Maria nodded. "Maybe. It was on the big boat. I didn't look for it in our things yet."

Rob felt nervous now. Nearly his entire crew lacked the credentials they needed.

Kim passed out the forms and guides as the staff slowly filed by. Rob waited until the line was finished, taking her aside.

"Hey... some of my kitchen crew has expired IDs and whatever. Miguel and Armando forgot theirs but they will get you an ID shortly, same with Maria. She just moved here from Vietnam, but she has a passport."

Her eyes told Rob Kim was concerned.

"Well, I can't put anyone on the employee roster until they show me a valid ID so... I really can't even have them here until then. That's my primary focus for today, getting everyone entered our system."

Rob gave her his ID and she handed him a stack of forms and a thick manual.

"Fill these forms out, then drop them off to me. Fell free to head out after it has been handed in. Take the study guide home and read up for the exam. We train by it to the letter. After your exam, you will be good to go. I'm really sorry, but anyone without an ID will have to wait outside and come back when they have it, I can't make any exceptions."

Rob was worried, he knew it would be unlikely Miguel and Army could get an ID at all, valid or otherwise. They were illegal immigrants, he knew the fear they faced when confronted with a trip to a government office such as the BMV. He felt certain Maria's passport would pass, as the customs agents accepted it on the trip home from Vietnam with no questions. Assuming it wasn't lost.

While the crew waited outside, Rob filled out his forms, lingering as Kim copied his ID.

"You didn't put an address on here Rob," Kim said, holding out a form. "I have to have an address to process this."

Rob wondered what to say. "Yeah, I am in the middle of moving so I don't have it just yet."

Looking up with a concerned look, she shrugged. "Okay, well, you will have to get that for me before we can go further."

Rob casually played it off. "I am actually moving today. Can I bring it in tomorrow?"

Kim smiled with a nod. "Sure. But for now, I can't even have you here, you know, its just policy."

He looked upset as she spoke. "Don't worry Rob. Why don't you go see Ellen, get moved, and settle whatever you need to do today? Come back in the morning with the address and we can get all this out of the way."

He felt relived at her patience and thanked her. Turning to leave, Kim called out to him.

"Rob?"

He stopped as she stepped up close. With a whisper she asked about Ellen.

"Is everything okay with Ellen? I hope she's all right. I was really looking forward to meeting her. She is quite the pro server, serving our VP party all by herself and all. We were all really impressed. Even Peg commented on how Ellen's service was so spot-on that she could easily become a training manager. Is there any word of her condition yet? Will she be okay? I would love to have her here for the opening," Kim asked with concern.

"Yeah she is doing fine," Rob. "She is still at the hospital. I am stuck trying to move us... It's a rough day to say the least."

Kim tucked Rob's papers in a binder. "Take the day to do what you need to do and be back tomorrow. It sounds like you need some time to get things together. I can't imagine what a shock this all is to you guys."

Instantly, Rob felt relived. Basically broke, he asked he about their past due paychecks. She looked at him puzzled.

"You didn't get paid up to date before we took over?" she asked.

Rob shook his head. "No, we were to be paid today for the past two weeks."

Kim looked at him with sympathy.

"That's not good Rob. Our payroll starts after we process you in the system. I have no control over the paychecks from The Good Ship. You would have to talk to your prior manager or owner about that."

Rob thanked her again as he walked out in despair over the missing paychecks. He found his kitchen crew waiting with worried brows. Seeing them on the deck, smoking with the chatting servers, he waved them over.

"Bad news guys... No checks."

Miguel looked angry, shouting back at him. "No check! What you mean no check?"

Army hung his head as Micah joined in. "What the fuck man? I was supposed to get a thousand dollars! Two weeks of hard work plus overtime."

Miguel agreed. "Si, I was getting over twelve hundred."

Army looked sick. "No checks. I'm broke man. We have rent due. What are we going to do now?"

Rob felt their pain as if it was his own. This bad day had turned dire.

Waving them quiet, Rob put his hand on Miguel's shoulder. "We will figure it out if we stick together. Kim says we can't even be here until our paperwork is done. That means new IDs from you three... A passport from Maria, plus an address from me."

Micah flicked his cigarette butt into the rolling water. "Fuck this. I'm going home. I've got to go job-hunting I guess. This place was cool... But now, it suddenly sucks. I love ya' Rob but it's time for me to scoot on down the road I guess. I can't work for The Man in a stiff joint like this. I'd rather go back to Terry's Turf Club. Its just burgers but at least it's cool."

Rob grabbed Micah by both shoulders. "They're not just burgers, they're damn good burgers, the fucking best. Terry's rocks. There's no shame in that kitchen. I might be job-hunting soon myself. I think we all will."

They crew waved goodbye to the hippie. He waved back as he walked away. Miguel and Army stayed behind with Rob and Maria.

"We don't have our checks. Now we don't even have a ride home. Dees sucks man!" Miguel said angrily.

Army nodded in agreement.

"What about Amanda?" Rob asked Armando.

"I can't remember her number. I don't know how to call her," Army replied.

Rob looked at Miguel. "Miguel can you call your sister again?"

Miguel nodded. "I can sure, but maybe Jose is working today, maybe not."

As Miguel dialed the number on his phone, Rob walked over to The Ship's deck, waiting to see if they had a ride. He was basically homeless, broke, and the $2700 check he was owed would certainly never be seen, nor Ellen's or Maria's pay either. His loyal crew was also nearly penniless, jobless and currently stranded. Ellen was still in the hospital... pregnant, and with complications. Rob leaned on the deck railing, staring at the river as he had seen George do so many times before.

"Man if I ever see George again... I'm going to beat him stupid," Rob said under his breath as he stared at the city from the sunlit deck.

Army leaned to the railing alongside and agreed. "Yeah beat him, and take the money he owes us!" he said, punching a fist into his palm.

Rob nodded Army's way. "Yep, That's right amigo... and take the money he owes us."

Miguel hung up his phone. "Maria says Jose will be here in a few."

Rob was relieved that at least they had a ride.

"What now?" Army asked Miguel.

"Now? Now we go home and finish that bottle of tequila. We need to scrape up enough to get some cervasas. Maybe we sell half of the weed, for food and more beer."

Army scowled. "Sell the weed! You're talking loco amigo. That's my Afgani weed. I can't get more for six weeks."

Miguel shrugged. "You can't eat the weed amigo. Sooner or later, we gonna' get hungry."

Army kicked the railing. "This is fucked. I mean fucked man!"

Rob rubbed Armando's head. "I know what you mean amigo... I'm just as screwed as you guys, maybe worse."

Miguel slapped Rob on the back, laughing. "Sheet! Dees ees normal for us. We're Mexicans man. We are used to being broke. Eets a way of life, you know? You will see, eet will be all be okay. You are with us now. We will show you amigo."

Army's face twisted with proud grin as they walked down the gangplank. "Yeah, you are with us now. Ellen and Maria too! We will show you how to get by."

As Jose's old Ford truck rolled in, Rob and Maria climbed into the bed. They rode in the breeze on the way back to Miguel's. All the worry, rushing and struggle of the morning had been for nothing. Army leaned down in the seat, lighting the rest of his blunt. Passing it to Miguel, he took a long toke. Looking at Rob through the open sliding rear window, Miguel held it out between his fingers. Rob paused. Staring at Miguel's face, he saw him wink, pushing it towards him again. With a nodding smile, Rob took it. Taking a long pull, he filled his lungs with the magic Middle Eastern smoke.

Holding his breath, he passed it back. Miguel smiled. "Take another! You need eet."

Rob blew the smoke out and hit it again. "Maybe your right," he said, pulling it to his lips.

"Si. I know I'm right," Miguel said laughing.

The forlorn crew rode along the Newport streets in the sunshine. Armando's sweet Afgani' sinsemilla soothed their frayed nerves into submission as the wind whipped their hair. Rob felt far from the man he was a mere few days ago.

Bumping in the back of the old pickup, for the second time today. Rob felt a grin spreading across his face from his growing high. Maria smiled at him, giggling. He smiled back. In that moment, he felt... almost... young again. His mind flashed back to days spent like this in his youth... Broke and near homeless, the wind in his hair, the sun in his eyes, and an illegal smile across his face.
Chapter 20

"Hello Ms. Addison," The nurse said as she walked into Ellen's room.

"The doctor has reviewed your test results. You are looking great. I have your prescriptions ready and directions for your care. He wants to see you every week for the next four weeks. If you have any pain or bleeding come back immediately. You can expect nausea, cramps, headaches, frequent urination, and mood swings. Those are simply part of the natural process. He has released you, so you are free to go home. Obviously you need to rest and avoid caffeine, alcohol, sugar, salt and especially exertion."

She asked her if she had any questions, then rolled in a wheel chair from the hall.

"I'm fine to walk," Ellen said.

"It's just policy," the nurse replied, insisting she push Ellen to the lobby door.

Stopping at the lobby desk, Ellen called Rob. He had been at Miguel's for nearly three hours waiting for her call.

"Hey Rob! They are sending me home. Should I call a cab?"

Rob knew she would be in for a shock when she learned of their homelessness.

"Ellen... That's great! I will send Carl to get you. I'll call him now."

Rob called Carl and explained Ellen's situation. Carl sped across the river to pick her up. As Ellen saw his car pull up, she felt excited to be heading back home.

"Hi Carl!" she called out with a wave.

Carl opened the door for her.

"Well well well. If it isn't Ellen Addison and baby too! I just can't believe it. Here you are, about to be a mother. I've known you and your dad since you were a little girl. Time has flown by so fast. Your dad would be so proud."

Standing up out of the wheelchair, Ellen slipped into the front seat. They drove, talking about the past few weeks as they headed to Miguel's. Stopping in front of the dilapidated apartment, several thug types stood in a huddle at the corner of the building. Half naked kids played with a broken skateboard in the gutter. With curious eyes, they looked up to see who had stopped at their curb.

Ellen scowled at the scene. "Why are we here... are we going to buy some crack or something?" she asked Carl with a laugh.

Carl didn't laugh.

"This is where Rob said to bring you," he replied solemnly.

Ellen surveyed the surroundings, smiling when she saw Rob come out of a half-cocked door.

"Ellen! I'm so glad you are here," Rob said with a hug. "You're just not going to believe what all has happened..."

Stepping out of the car slowly, her face froze as a dark-eyed drug dealer stared back at her from across the corner. Turning from his gaze, she glanced around nervously at the sights and sounds of the ghetto as Rob took her hand, walking her inside.

"Who lives here? Why are we here?" Ellen asked.

Rob interrupted. "Just be glad we have 'here' to go to. You have no idea what this day has been like."

"Seriously Rob, what are we doing here?" she asked again.

Rob pulled her inside the door. He took his last handful of cash from his pocket to pay Carl.

"Wouldn't hear of it. Any day Ellen needs a ride from the hospital with a new baby onboard is on me. And by the way... Congratulations!" Carl said as he shook Rob's hand. "You'll be great dad I just know it. And Ellen, what a mother Ellen will be."

Rob thanked him. He didn't feel he was off to very good start as a dad, but smiled back appreciative at Carl's happy face nonetheless.

Ellen walked into the dingy apartment, seeing the stained carpet and aging peeling paint on the walls she stopped at the entry. Miguel and Army were seated on a 1970's velvet sofa. Army was breaking up a bright green bud on a tray poised in his lap. Miguel held up a shot glass.

"Hola Señorita Ellen! Contedo de verte!"

Ellen looked at him with a smile.

"Si si Miguel. Que pasa mi amigo," she replied in her best Spanish.

Maria was in the kitchen. Ellen walked to her as she picked up the inciting aroma of the steaming pot Maria was stirring. Taking a spoon, she tasted the steaming broth.

"God your are good at that," she said with a whisper as the soothing flavors warmed her throat.

Rob waved Ellen over to the hall. Leading her to a back bedroom, he sat her on the bare mattress.

"Ellen, The Lady Jane is gone. All our stuff, or what is left of it, is here now. George threw out our things and left on the boat. I guess all of our cash is still hidden inside. Maria slept outside guarding our stuff all night until I got there in the morning. She fought off two thieves in the night with broom handle. I couldn't find my bankcard in the mess. Without it, we couldn't even get a hotel room. We were stranded with our stuff in trash bags at the hotel parking lot."

Ellen looked horrified.

Rubbing her shoulders, Rob continued on.

"Miguel came through and got us all to work. By the way, George sold The Ship and didn't tell a soul. Today the corporate company, Harden Group, took over."

Ellen looked panicked. "We don't have jobs anymore? Oh my god Rob what are we going to do?"

Rob patted her thigh. "Relax, they said we can all keep our jobs, but we have forms to fill out first. They need IDs from everyone in order to start work. Micah quit, and Miguel and Army can't even get an ID at all. Luckily Maria found her passport. She's fortunate it wasn't lost, as I doubt she will ever get another. I didn't have an address so even I am not officially working there until I do."

Ellen sighed a breath of relief.

Rob continued. "All our cash hidden on the Lady Jane is gone... The worst part is... George screwed us on our paychecks too. No one on The Ship will be paid for the past two weeks. We are all jobless and broke, Miguel, Armando, Maria... and you too."

Ellen couldn't believe it. Hanging her head in her hands, she started to sob on the bed. Rob hugged her, trying to console her.

"I'm having a baby Rob! We are broke and have no home. I have prescriptions to buy. I'm not even supposed to work. What are we going to do now?"

Rob hugged her tighter. "I know, I know. I have still my job. I can use this address. Miguel said we could stay here as long as we want. Without an ID, there is no way they can keep their jobs though. So I will have to pay all the bills here for Miguel and Army until they find work. But, at least we have a cheap place to stay. The rent is only $400."

Ellen felt a wave of depression. "We don't even have anywhere to sleep Rob. My clothes are in a pile on the dirty floor. I can't live like this..."

Rob pulled her tighter to him. "We just have to. We can do it. We are still together... we can do this. We can do anything together. Well, almost anything. I'm not rescuing anyone from drug lords in a foreign jungle anymore."

Ellen feigned a smile. As her and Rob walked back to the living room, they saw Miguel and Armando on the couch, doubled over laughing from a youtube video playing on Miguel's phone. Maria had the kitchen clean and organized. A big pot of Pho broth steamed on the stove. She was on her knees in the bathroom with an old rag, scrubbing the floor.

"Maria you don't have to..." Ellen said as she paused at the doorway.

Maria mumbled in Vietnamese as she scrubbed, ignoring everyone completely.

Taking a seat with Rob at the dining table, Ellen realized her new surroundings were going to be a challenge.

"I think I can still work. I have an ID so they should get me going with no trouble," she said.

Rob argued. "Ellen, you just got out of a damn emergency room! You are not working anywhere now. Just relax, we will figure it out."

Seeing her dismay, Miguel stopped laughing.

"Ms. Ellen, we can make do. You and Chef Rob will take my room. Maria can have Armando's room. We will sleep out here. You will see. We will get by. We've lived much harder before. When we first came to this country we had nothing, we can get by fine."

Ellen relaxed with Miguel's kind words. Thanking him, she went back to the bedroom to get it ready as best she could for the night. Maria was still cleaning the bathroom. Rob sorted their clothes and belongings. Army moved his things with Miguel's along a wall in the living room.

Shortly, they all gathered around the dining table. Crowding together, Maria dished out steaming bowls of hot Pho she had put together from bits and pieces from Miguel's fridge. Everyone complimented her as they tasted the food. Her spirits lifted, Ellen sat between Rob and Maria as they enjoyed their meal.

Watching the sunset from the open patio door, Ellen noticed three neighborhood kids peering in through the glass. Miguel and Army slurped their dishes down fast. Exchanging compliments in a mix of Spanish-English to Maria about the food, their words were a mish-mash she had no possibility of understanding. Simply smiling and nodding, she returned their smiles.

Rob felt a growing peace calming his anxiety. The day had been a blur of a waking nightmare. Sitting at the table with his friends, he knew he was in good company. Ellen was safe at his side again. Maria smiled with her eyes across the table as Rob took a deep drink of his Pho broth. Sitting the empty bowl down, he relaxed with a heartfelt sigh. All hope seemed lost when the day began, but now, as the sun sank behind the cityscape, all was peaceful.
Chapter 21

The sun faded away and the night passed by with the clink of beer bottles and cheers of tequila shots as Miguel and Armando drank beer and finished a bottle of mezcal. Rob and Ellen finally fell asleep in their borrowed bedroom around midnight. Maria had long since gone to sleep in her room. Miguel and Armando spread make shift bedrolls on the floor, ready for when they decided to pass out.

In the morning, waking early, Rob took a proper shower and dressed for work. Maria was already in the kitchen, brewing her native concoction of tea and coffee mixed together. Rob had his first taste of the odd beverage in Vietnam. Taking a cup, today, it tasted much more inviting to him than it did then. With a fresh shower and his clean whites, he was ready to begin the day. Taking a few bucks from his remaining cash for the bus, he headed off to his new job.

Coming in through the side door, he was greeted by Kim in the office. He pulled out the slip of paper with Miguel's address from his pocket and filled in the blanks on his paperwork. Kim typed the forms into the computer. Turning in her chair, she asked Rob if he had a chance to study for his exam.

"Yeah about that exam, I'm confident in my cooking. I have a CIA culinary degree, and I've cooked in some pretty tough New York kitchens, not to mention running The Ship's kitchen for past two years."

Kim nodded. "I've heard nothing but the best things about you. Please don't think this exam has any reflection on our confidence in your abilities. However, this exam is a company requirement and no one will be permitted to work in the kitchen until they have successfully completed it."

Rob slumped with dismay. Over ten years of hard work, burned arms and cut fingers, late nights and early mornings behind the line of quality kitchens seemed worthless to his new employers. His experience had trained him far better than any examination from a manual could express. Yet, in his heart he knew completing the corporate paperwork was a necessity to get him one step closer to the check that could provide him with enough funds to support the four people in the apartment that he had just left.

Suddenly Paul appeared. "Chef Rob!" he said with a handshake. "I'm glad to finally talk to you in person, I have heard so much about you. That dinner you created for our CEO must have really been something special. He still raves about it."

Rob nodded in silent appreciation as Paul continued.

"I can't wait to see how your expertise fits with our way of cooking. I think you'll find our menu is not only exciting, but also much easier to prepare than the menu you have been used to."

Rob couldn't feel anything but disinterest as Paul droned on about the nuances about their corporate faux Caribbean fare.

"Would you happen to have a copy of that menu?" he asked Paul curiously.

Paul answered quickly, "Actually you have it already. It's in your study guide. Didn't you have a chance to look it over yesterday?"

Rob couldn't think of a valid reply and stood just staring. Thankfully, Kim quickly interrupted the uncomfortable silence.

"Paul, Rob's been in a bit of a crisis. His girlfriend Ellen was rushed to hospital mid-service the night before we took over. She was our server during the dinner, Ellen Addison. On top of that, Rob was in the middle of moving the day we took over. I told him I would give him a day or two to take care of his affairs at home before I gave him his tests."

Paul nodded in understanding. "Sure, sure... Wow, I hope Ellen is okay. I heard a lot about her too."

Rob explained she was fine as he looked at the study guide for the first time. He appreciated Kim's comment as he thumbed through the manual. Scanning over the menu, whispering to himself as he read, he browsed the new menu items.

"Appetizers: crab cakes with Caribbean roulade sauce, fried shrimp, fried calamari, cheese sticks, jalapeno poppers... Not only was the list boring to him, but it all seemed likely frozen. His eyes moved down to the entrees.

"Rolled steak, Sautéed shrimp, Cuban pork sandwich..." this sucks, he thought to himself.

Paul shot furtive glances at Rob as he watched him survey the menu.

"Sounds pretty simple right?" he asked Rob.

"This is the same old crap they serve at every corporate joint," Rob thought.

Rob's first instinct was to condemn the menu. His mind told him to say one thing, but his dire need for employment told him to say another. His depressing situation convinced him to keep his thoughts to himself.

He settled on a passive response. "Sounds easy to me. Can't say I ever heard of a 'rolled' steak before but we have a great beef supplier nearby, as well as a trusted local fishmonger. I know the owner of Eckerlin's Meats. He always saves out the best cuts for me."

Paul smiled, "See, now that's an excellent example of the beauty of working in a Harden Group restaurant. There is no need to rely on local providers. Our commissary will deliver everything needed from spices & steaks, shrimp & vegetables, to calamari and crab. The first shipment is on the way as we speak. You'll be impressed with our equipment and products I'm sure."

Rob felt a sinking feeling of dread as Paul as described the factory made commissary food products he would be working with.

Walking Rob through the kitchen, Paul explained how the new equipment would be set up and how the food was prepared. Rob fell silent as Paul continued describing their corporate processes. Kim called out to him from the office.

"Chef Rob. I have your company ID card here. You are all ready to go as of today. I also have you on the payroll now."

Rob walked into the office as she was speaking to him.

"Yeah about that, exactly how much am I getting paid again? I don't think anyone ever said."

Kim handed him a form with a pay chart.

"You start off here, at level one, after you pass your exam."

He scanned the line as she pointed. On the far right it gave the pay rate.

"Head Chef - $12 per hour."

Rob scanned the lines below.

"Lead cook - $10 per hour, line cook - $9.50 per hour, dishwasher - $8.35 per hour."

He knew instantly that even if he could save his comrade's jobs, they wouldn't likely want them after hearing what their pay would be. Moving back up the chart, he stared at the $12 per hour, he wasn't even sure he wanted his job anymore. Depression mixed with anger flooded through his veins as he looked up at Kim, hiding his disgust.

"I'm never going to get my crew back in the kitchen for this amount of money. These are hardworking guys, well trained cooks. I don't want to be deep into a Saturday night rush, falling in the weeds with nothing but crying nine-dollar-an-hour newbies to rely on."

Kim looked indifferent.

"I'm sorry you feel that way Rob. The news of the sale was unfortunately sudden. Usually this is not how we approach our staff and offer our positions. However, our corporate rules are rigid and cannot be bent. If you look through your manual, you'll see how you and any other employee can pass more exams and earn a higher pay grade. It's just how we do it. I'm sure you will move up quickly. It's an unspoken policy not to reveal manager salaries... but I can tell you what I made last year."

Rob looked at her curiously.

"Sixty seven, with my bonuses," Kim said in a proud whisper.

With raised eyebrows, Rob nodded. "Wow. That's very good Kim."

She shot him a nod in agreement.

"Just hang in here Chef. Good things will happen with us."

He feigned enthusiasm, but inside he was growing more doubtful.

"Sixty fucking seven, for a top level training manager, traveling eleven months out of the year. That's crap money. This isn't looking good," Rob said to himself with a sigh.

Ellen was at home pregnant, with medical bills mounting up. Maria was penniless, and his loyal crew jobless. He knew by the time he got back, Miguel and Armando would be deep in a savage drunk, spending most or all of what money they had left on liquor and beer. He felt their only hope for salvation rested on his shoulders. The best thing to do now was simply nod and smile along with The Ship's new corporate owners. And allow them to pull the strings on his puppet arms.

"Why not?" he asked himself. "Chucking out their frozen corporate food will be easy. Sign up for life insurance. Go to the Kings Island company picnic. Tuck away a couple hundred a month into a 401k. I have to learn to embrace my new Harden way of life. Maybe get the promotion to that test kitchen job. Move Ellen and Maria to Omaha or wherever they send me. Buy a used pickup truck and maybe even a nice little modular home in a quiet cornfield outside of town. Send our kid to the local Hickville public school. With any luck, Ellen and I could retire on Social Security by the time we are 72. I may as well get used to the idea... It's not like I have time to pursue any other options anyway." His spirits were sinking.

Walking out of the office, he focused on the numbers. "$12 per hour at 40 hours a week is...$480, probably $320 after taxes. So... that's $1280 a month total. Minus $400 for rent, plus Ellen's prescriptions, cabs, food, utilities, laundry and..."

Instantly his skin flushed hot red as he realized his job at The Ship would be no salvation at all. He knew he needed to get the crew their jobs back if they were all to earn enough to survive. Rob jogged back to the office were Kim was pecking on her laptop.

"I'll take this manual home and be ready for my exam tomorrow. I appreciate all your patience with the crew and I. I really hope I can get all of them back in the kitchen. I can assure you things will go much smoother with them in place. Remember, it wasn't just me that created the food the your company was so impressed by, serious credit is due to my staff's efforts as well."

Kim smiled and nodded, "Sure thing Rob, I'll see you tomorrow."

Walking down the gangplank into the Cincinnati sunshine, Rob felt no joy. Fishing the last of his crumpled bills out of his loose pockets, he counted them as he walked. A twenty, a five, nine ones and a handful of change... He had thirty-four dollars and sixty-five cents to his name. The cab ride home would consume half that. He would have to walk.

Stepping out onto the main street; turning west, he began his long trek home. Along the way, he passed by the million dollar apartments of The Ascent. The parking lot was sandwiched with gleaming BMW's, Rovers and Mercedes Benz luxury cars. The wealth of the tenants was a slap in his face, sending his depression even lower.

Walking further into the inner city, the scenery changed to 'Pay Day Loan' signs, pawnshops and gold buying stores. Past the dilapidated Kroger grocery, the scenes around him morphed into the sights and sounds of the truly poor. He passed by a run down apartment complex; a baby crying out through one of it's broken windows. He walked on past rotting abandoned row houses. Foreclosed years ago, they sat long neglected with weeds shooting up tall through the porches. Beer bottles and fast food bags covered a front yard. Three yelling kids ran through the trash chasing a stray cat with a stick.

Passing the infamous Section-Eight projects, the bump bump bump of a loud bass rattled from a low-rider Cadillac parked on the corner. Steely-eyed drug dealers sat on the hood, watching with hard stares as he passed by.

At that moment, he knew his life had quickly collapsed to an all time low. George's scam had sealed his fate in an instant. He wondered if he could ever recover... or if his future, that of his unborn child and Ellen's would be trapped in this ghetto forever. Twelve dollars an hour was certainly not going to get them out of this mire. He had to find a better way.
Chapter 22

Moving on down the blocks, he passed stoic hooded heroin peddlers and laughing teenage punks gathered outside a corner liquor store. Rob made his way to Miguel's front door in quiet reflection. It was well into afternoon. Walking in the apartment, his senses were overwhelmed by the spicy aroma of something Maria was sizzling in a pan perched atop a glowing burner on the stove.

Without even asking what the enticing dish was, he snatched out a piece with his bare fingers. Chewing the spicy meat as he stepped through the apartment to the bedroom, he wondered what Ellen was doing. Opening the door, he found her folding clothes on the bed.

Watching her from the doorway, he noticed neatly stacked rows of their belongings along the wall. The stained mattress was now covered with clean sheets and a soft comforter. Rob sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his whites.

"How did it go?" Ellen asked.

"You can't even imagine," Rob replied as he kicked his shoes into the closet. After I pass an exam I'm going to make $12 an hour. If and when Miguel and Army can muster an ID they will get $8 to $10 an hour, same with Maria. Micah had already quit. He saw it all coming. Maybe that hippie is the smartest of us all."

Ellen folded the laundry quietly. The quick math in her head told her Rob was going to bring home less in a week that she had been used to making on a weekend. The five tenants of the apartment would have little to nothing from week to week to live on.

Ellen had spent a summer in a neighborhood like this when her dad first moved them to the city while he waited for an apartment opening. She knew that once in this economic rut, it was unlikely few if any of the future generations born here would be able to afford to move out of this depressed lifestyle. As she placed folded pants and shirts on the stacks of clean clothes, she silently pondered the notion of being locked into this wretched world for years to come.

"Is this the beginning of the end?" she wondered in silence. "Will our lives turn into a string of weeks, months or even years of living day to day in this economic slavery. What will be the fate of our child?"

Feigning a smile, she sat beside Rob, putting her arm around him.

"This sucks but its all just temporary. You will get a good job again," she said with a sigh. "You are a great chef after all. George sucker punched us and put us in this terrible situation. But remember... Tomorrow is a brand new day. You just have to have faith."

Rob slipped on a pair of sweat pants and clean socks. He thought about Ellen's words. He knew he had the ambition and the talent to get a good job again. But sitting with his socked feet on the stained carpet, he wondered how quickly he could escape from the low paying position.

The evening passed quietly. Rob, Ellen and Maria sat at the table playing poker with pennies until midnight. Rob and Ellen said their goodnights as they slipped off to their room. Shattering their quiet sleep, the front door opened and slammed loudly. Miguel and Armando fell into the apartment with a crash. Rob and Ellen jumped out of bed, dashing out to the living room. Rob saw Army lying on top of Miguel, holding a nearly empty bottle of tequila and laughing.

As the pair struggled to stand up, two unfamiliar bartenders walked into the doorway carrying a case of beer. Rob grabbed Army's hand pulling him onto his feet. With one hand clenched around his bottle, Army's other hand wrapped around Rob, hugging him hard. Armando's head bobbed as he he swerved and weaved. Rob saw Army's blurred eyes trying to focus. Army leaned into Rob's shoulder, whispering with drunken breath.

"Mi casa es su casa mi amigo."

Miguel burst out with laughter as the two bartenders pulled him to his feet. The new arrivals took their seats on the old sofa.

Rob looked at Miguel. "What the hell have you been into? It's barely midnight and you two are soused.

One of the bartenders spoke up. "It's my fault," he said. "I called Miguel to get a little weed and invited him over to the bar. I gave them some 'mistake shots.' The next thing I know, Armando is firing up a blunt. One thing led to another, and now we are here."

Ellen came into the hall. She had never shared a living space with any other man but her father. The drunken antics of her new roommates had her feeling anxious. Miguel shot up off the couch as he finished the last shot from the tequila bottle.

"I have great idea!" he shouted.

Every face held still in anticipation of his next words.

"We have a little money now... So... We all go to The Pub!" he cried out, waving the empty bottle high.

Rob shook his head. "I need to get up early and study a stupid manual to pass an exam tomorrow. I'm stuck working at that silly job to earn enough rent and bill money to keep us all above water here.

It was obvious the tequila was wrestling deep emotions out of Miguel as he listened to Rob's response.

"Exam! Dees ees bullshit! Who in their big fancy company can out cook you? Out cook Chef Rob?" he asked.

Slumping his arms down, he answered his own question.

"None that's who. Why do you worry with dees exams?"

Rob looked at Ellen with a shrug.

"Maybe we should get out of here for a while. We don't have anything to lose. It might do us good to get out. It's been a horrible beautiful day."

Ellen wondered if he was right. She was beginning to know Miguel better and she knew well enough to know he wasn't taking no for an answer. Army saw the look on Ellen's face and instantly took it as a 'yes'. Leaping off the couch, Armando jumped onto the coffee table, taking the empty bottle from Miguel, he raised it to cheers Ellen.

"Miss Ellen, you come to The Pub with us again!" Army called out smiling.

Miguel clapped his hands together hard.

"That settles eet. We go now. Before eets too late."

The group shuffled out the door, beginning their irreverent march across the city blocks to their beloved pub.

Walking into The Pub, Martinez was filling drafts from the tap. He looked up with a smile, waving to the group. Picking up six rocks glasses, he slid them in a row across the bar in front of his guests. Quickly, he filled a stainless mixing cup with ice. Turning to the liquor bottles, pouring with both hands, he tipped bottle after bottle into the mixing cup. Covering the cup with a strainer, he shook the icy mixture as he walked over to the wide-eyed faces. Pouring slowly, he pulled the tumbler across the row of glasses, filling each to their brim. Army looked up at him and broke the silence.

"What the hell is that?" he asked.

Martinez smiled, shooting Army a wink as he tossed the mixing cup into the sink.

"It's my new creation, six organic distilleries, six different nuances that come on in perfect sequence. You'll love it."

The crew looked at one another curiously as they raised the glasses to their lips. Ellen stood behind the line, watching as the guys tipped their drinks back then slamming their empty glasses on the bar.

Well into the late night, Martinez fueled the alcoholic buzz of the crowd. Soon the realities of too many free shots had Rob's vision tripled. He watched through hazy eyes as Miguel and Armando danced with two young servers from the Newport Levy's Bar Louie. After the song was over, Army called the group to a huddle. Arms over each other's shoulders, they formed a circle.

"What we need right now... is a smoke break!" Army said laughing.

Even though Ellen was standing outside the huddle against the bar, she could plainly hear what Army said. A quick glance to her from Rob was returned with a smile. She knew the pressure he was under and the incredible kindness Miguel had offered that had saved them from homelessness. She was glad his friends were softening the blows he incurred today.

Stumbling out the back door, the laughing drunken crew stepped into the brick lined alley. About a dozen other customers had already formed small smoking circles. The entire alley was filled with the sticky sweet smell of pot. Gathering in their own corner, the group watched as Army sparked his lighter to life, sucking its flame against his blunt.

Rob scanned the crowd. The customer's uniform shirts were embroidered with logos from dozens of local restaurants. From the mom and pop pizza joints, to the downtown fine dining district. Every aspect of the service industry was represented in the alley.

Even though his thoughts had been rattled with despair, surrounded by the core of the culinary community in the smoky alley made Rob realize he was standing in the epicenter of his profession. Miguel passed the blunt to Rob. Taking a small toke, he passed it on. Knowing full well the high-powered weed would fuel his dizziness even more; he didn't dare inhale it as deeply as the others did.

Walking to the street, Rob drifted away from the circle. He watched as cabs dropped off tightly squeezed passengers to The Pub's front door. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he stood under the neon beer sign. There was little room to move on the crowded curb. He looked at the incoming patron's clothes. These were not service employees. These were accountants, attorneys and salesmen.

Leaning on the wall, he silently observed the blurry scene before him. As if by an epiphany, he realized as popular as The Pub was, the one thing it lacked was something to eat. Sure, they had a few frozen burritos and soft pretzels stacked in the freezer. Jimmy, the owner's hapless lazy nephew manned the microwave on weekend nights for tips and free drafts. Occasionally, he would stop playing on his phone long enough to issue out wax paper lined baskets of nuked junk food for the drunk and desperate. But it wasn't anything people came here for.

Lingering on the corner, watching the office crowd file in the door, Rob realized The Pub's well-equipped but idle kitchen could be turned into a real asset in the right hands. He was lost in thought as Ellen walked up behind him, sliding an arm around his waist.

"I was looking everywhere for you. It's getting late," she said with a hug. "I'm all for hanging out but it's been a long day and I'd really like to go back home now. You should stay if you want though."

Rob hugged her tight. "Stay? No way. I'm with you."

Arm in arm, they bid goodnight to the crew and began the walk back home. Thankfully, years of gracious tips left him without a bar bill on this troubled night.

Rob and Ellen headed slowly across the cracked cement landscape back to their new humble home. Passing the darkness of an alley, they saw homeless eyes sunk in hollow faces, illuminated by the flickering orange glow from a lighter as the huddled figures sucked on glass pipes. Turning the corner, Ellen gripped Rob's arm tight as they walked close by a gang of drunken thug drug dealers. Ignoring the scene, Rob made jokes about the recent events. She laughed out loud. Laughing was the only comfort they had left.

Without warning, a foul smelling homeless woman yelled out from a sidewalk stoop.

"Hey buddy! Give me a goddamn dollar!"

Ellen moved away nervously as they drew nearer.

"My baby needs food you bastards! Give me a fucking dollar or I will curse you both!"

Ellen stopped in her tracks.

"Oh my god Rob!" she whispered in shock. "That poor woman is living on the streets with a baby!"

Pausing, Rob looked at the woman closer. After a few seconds, he could see she was cradling a lifelike doll. It was realistic enough to fool anyone not looking closely. The woman stared at him with a twitching grimace on her lips. Feeling in his pockets, he realized he had no dollar to give her.

"Sorry lady. I don't even have a dollar," Rob said with an embarrassed shrug.

Walking on, they heard the lady cursing them. Then they heard her whispering comforting words to the doll wrapped in her arms.

"That really gave me a shock Rob," Ellen said as they crossed the street. "What if that really had been a baby? I can't imagine how many children are living around here in such terrible conditions."

Rubbing her back, Rob pulled her close.

"The cops would take it and call Family Services if they saw a homeless baby. I'm sure they see terrible things happen to kids around here all the time though. I'm just glad it really was a doll. I would hate to see something like that in person," he said as they walked on.

"God I hope we can manage to get a decent place to live and get our lives back on track before our baby is born. The mere idea of having a child in place like this is terrifying," Ellen said as she held to his arm.

In that instant, Rob was reminded that his life as a carefree chef had to come to an end. How could he raise a child in the environment that he was stuck in now? Suddenly the emotions associated with the care and concern of a newborn baby flooded him with waves of sadness. Holding Ellen's hand, his began to silently tear. They walked the last few blocks in a sad silence.

The now familiar sight of the Miguel's apartment relaxed the two as they walked inside. Not wanting to wake Maria, they made their way quietly through the dark rooms into their bedroom. Closing the door, they both shed their clothes and slid beneath the covers. Ellen wormed her body up against Rob, inching closer until her flesh fit his form. She hoped tomorrow would bring better fortune but she was still unnerved from the day's events. Even with Rob beside her, she found it hard to sleep soundly in the strange apartment. The constant worry of their situation only fueled her anxiety.
Chapter 23

The next morning, the mood on The Ship had changed as much as the name. Rob came in ten minutes early, hopeful he would have a change of heart about the transition. Kim explained he would be engaged in a complete tear down and cleaning of the kitchen for the day. A construction crew was already loudly hacking away at the dining room and bar area. Overnight, the dining room had already been stripped of its tables, booths, carpet and flooring.

"Any employee who wants to work can help with the refit. It's a standard eight dollars and hour across the board but it could help with downtime until we reopen," Kim said, pointing to a group of servers sweeping up saw dust.

Rob imagined how hard it would be to get caught up at that rate of pay. Miguel and Army still didn't have IDs, so they were still counted out. Staring at the sweeping crew, he knew in an instant his rising career as a well reviewed Cincinnati Chef had truly came to a crashing bitter end.

The pressure of supporting Ellen and baby to come on low pay caused him to go about his day in grim spirits. Sitting on the cold kitchen floor, he scrubbed a drain with a long handled steel bristle brush. He had disassembled and stacked metro racks on the deck. He helped push and drag the kitchen equipment and coolers outside. After stripping the kitchen to its bare bones, he carried big boxes of The Ship's dishware, pots and pans to waiting trucks. The items were to be donated to charity in return for a healthy tax return for the Harden Group.

After dragging the heavy kitchen mats to the deck, Kim waved him to the walk-in. Pointing to the stack of food stocks, she instructed him to toss everything in the trash.

"You have to be kidding!" Rob said, turning to Kim. "There is a several thousand dollars in high quality products in here. Prime rib, baby backs, steaks, fresh seafood, veggies, stocks, sauces, it's all dated and fresh. You can't really be serious about chucking it all in the trash," he replied in awe.

Kim shrugged with her clipboard in hand.

"We are not allowed to donate it or we would. If you want it, feel free to take it. But it all has to be out of here today. Everything has to go, all the spices and such too. We are donating the canned goods but I want to see a nothing but a clean bare walk in at the end of the day."

Rob couldn't believe it.

"Hell yes I want it," he said quickly.

Kim shrugged again. "Then it's all yours. But it make sure it's all out by the end of the day."

Rob was elated. "How am I going to get this all stuff home? And where the hell would I put it? I can't bear the idea of throwing these top shelf ingredients in a dumpster."

Quickly, he called Miguel, dialing with anxious fingers. "Hey amigo! Guess what? I can bring home everything from the walk-in at The Ship. Everything! We can eat like kings for weeks, but where can we put it all?"

Miguel answered with surprise. "Damn! Everything? We can't store all that here. That's enough food to open a restaurant."

Miguel's words hit him like a slap in the face.

"It is enough to start a restaurant," he whispered. "Miguel. Get here as soon as you can with Jose's truck, Bring Armando too. I have an idea."

His thoughts working in frenzy, Rob called The Pub.

"The Pub," answered Katie, The Pub's owner.

"Katie, this is Rob Anderson, from The Good Ship. I have an idea you are certainly going to be interested in... "

Rob outlined his plan to bring all the food from The Ship to the Pub, create a simple menu, and bring in Army and Miguel to cook it.

"I love it Rob," Katie replied quickly. "It's not like Jimmy is going to care. He doesn't serve much of anything really. He's just here for the free beer. He had a bright idea of serving grilled cheese sandwiches once. He ruined thirty sandwiches in one night before I made him call it quits. He's not much of a cook, but he's family and we have to keep him around. Do you think he could help out?"

"Sure. No problem," Rob replied. "He can wash dishes for starters. If he has an interest in cooking, he might even learn something."

Katie liked the sound of Rob's pitch.

"You know, I can't pay you guys much, unless it takes off."

Rob had an answer ready. "How's does this sound, you split the profits from this free food stock with us 50/50. After the free food runs out, if all goes well, we will figure out a new deal."

Katie agreed. "Sure thing Rob, You bring the food and the cooks and I keep half the money. That's the best plan I've ever heard for that old kitchen."

Rob was excited. "Great. Get Jimmy on cleaning the walk-in up. We need a nice clean thirty-six degree cooler ready for this food in less than two hours. The unit should cold by then if he gets on it now."

Katie assured him she would have it ready in time.

Miguel, Army and Maria showed up in the old Ford, anxious to see what Rob's plan was. Waving them to the deck, Rob had the food packed in boxes, covered in ice.

"Take all this stuff, pack them tight in the truck," he instructed, pointing to the big stacks of boxes on the patio.

After packing away the food stocks, Armando dragged away two big boxes of donation items sitting at the curb before they ended up in the back of the charity truck. They were loaded with all sorts of stockpots, pans, strainers, skillets, utensils, kitchen tools, cutting boards, and chef knives.

"It's not really stealing right?" Army asked as Miguel eyed the bounty. "After all, we are really poor. We need charity too right?" Armando asked with a laugh.

Miguel agreed. "Hell yes! We are almost homeless, if that isn't poor what the hell ees? We need this stuff more than the rich thrift store, pack eet all up too."

Riding in the bed of the old Ford, Rob bounced with the boxes as they drove to The Pub. Arriving with a honk, Katie opened the back door. Watching the crew load in all the cases of meat, vegetables, spices, condiments and cookware, Katie looked at Rob inquisitively.

"Are you sure all this is all legal? This stuff didn't 'Fall off a truck' now did it?"

Rob laughed. "Nope, the new owners are donating everything, even all of the equipment. The fresh food they were not allowed to donate. The manager said I was welcome to have it or else put in the dumpster."

Nosing around in the boxes, Katie made a quick count of the ones on top.

"Prime Rib - 30 pounds... one, two three boxes. Rib eye - 25 pounds... two, three, four boxes... My god Rob there is a small fortune here."

Stacking the fresh food in the cold walk-in, Rob was elated.

"Just wait when the food sales start ringing in. We are going to wow the patrons with these high quality stocks. By this time tomorrow, you are going to have the best damn Pub Grub on both sides of the river."

Seeing the cooler filled with fresh ingredients, Katie couldn't help but become excited herself. Since her husband Pete, The Pub's founder, died three years ago, she had more or less let The Pub run itself. Martinez, her trusted bartender, insisted she let him treat the service industry crowd as VIPs. Immediately, he allowed them more lenience with their back alley pot smoking. He discounted drinks and extended last calls discreetly to everyone who worked in the food business. Martinez's plan worked. In no time The Pub was the daily go-to spot for cooks, servers, dishwashers and bartenders. Everyone at the local eateries big and small knew and loved The Pub. Their loyal patronage had kept the little bar alive.

The strong bar sales had kept the pub profitable. Customers often asked for a food, but The Pub had little to offer. Over the years, Katie attempted to serve fresh food several times, but gave up when the costs quickly over took the profits. It was something she could never get to work and a costly mistake every time she had tried.

For more than three years now, The Pub's kitchen had sat dark and dusty. Jimmy's frozen junk food kept the hungry bar crowd from chewing on their cocktail napkins, but not by much. Katie welcomed the notion that for the first time, The Pub would serve good food she could be proud of. It was something her late husband Pete had always wanted to implement, but never lived long enough to see come to pass.

It was a Wednesday night. Rob knew The Pub would be wall to wall crowded. The weeknights were the only nights the service crowd had off or left work early on. Unlike other venues, The Pub's mostly service worker crowd kept the weekdays crowded, the weekends were for the nine to fivers.

"Miguel!" Rob called out as he brought in the last box. "Get this line cleaned, then set up the mise en place just as we had it on The Ship. I will start making the sauces for our prime rib dinner. Army, get the rest of this stuff stocked and organized. Wash all the utensils and pans, wash everything."

Rob couldn't believe how fast his day had changed. Calling Ellen, he told her the news.

"You're doing what?" she asked. "You're going to sell food at The Pub? It's an old smelly bar. Who's going to pay forty dollars for prime rib at that place? I don't know Rob. That's a lot of work for maybe nothing. You might not even make enough money for a ride home."

Rob wasn't discouraged. "Don't worry. What else would I be doing? I make eight dollars an hour now. Eight! That's like six after taxes. I'm under minimum wage take home. I may as well try this. I think it will work. Just last night I was thinking about how busy this place is but has no food. Just relax, we have nothing to lose except a few hours of hard work. If it doesn't pay off right away, I can work both jobs until something better comes along."

Ellen realized he was putting all his effort towards reversing the horribleness of their situation. She also knew he had the talent and ambition to pull it off.

"You know what, maybe you are right. Maria and I will come and help."

Rob argued. "Ellen. You can't be serving tables. You need to rest..."

She cut him off. "I can still walk Rob. If I can walk, I can help. It's not like I will be getting in the weeds or anything, it's just a little old pub. I doubt it will even be busy. I'm coming to help and I will bring Maria too. We will be there in a few."

Rob didn't argue, he knew she was determined. He also knew her and Maria's help would be invaluable if the food actually started selling.
Chapter 24

Around four, Miguel checked the beef in the oven. "Eet needs like-a another hour," he said to Rob, prodding the meat with his callused thumb.

"Perfect," Rob called back. "Army, get the redskin potatoes going. Set out the olive oil, rosemary, thyme, garlic, butter, white pepper and salt. Then clean this asparagus, it has the least life left in it. The rest of these veggies can last days or longer."

Armando snapped into action.

"I'm not a dishwasher anymore right Miguel?" Armando asked.

Miguel nodded. "Se, you-a the training line cook now."

Armando smiled as he handed off a handful of dirty dishes to Jimmy. "Wash them good too! Then bring them back up here to the line. I need them when you're done. Dry them all off too. Don't send me back any dishes with food on them either!" he yelled as Jimmy took the dishes in hand.

He beamed at Miguel with a smile. Miguel grinned back.

"You gonna' make-a good sous chef someday."

Ellen arrived at the Pub with Maria. They could smell the wonderful food the second they walked in. Making their way to the back, they walked into the kitchen with anticipation. The crew was busy hustling to get ready for service. Rob was stirring sauce in a steaming pot. Ellen breathed in the aroma of the roasting prime rib. Her first thought was that Rob wasn't going to be able to sell cuisine this expensive at a musty bar.

Silently, she watched Rob at the stove. Seeing the kitchen up and running inspired her that the venture could work out and was ready to help make it happen.

"Ellen," Rob said as she stood by his side. Hugging her, he stopped stirring. "I'm so glad you're here. You take it easy tonight. I'm not kidding, the moment you feel tired or stressed you sit down or go home... understand?"

She agreed. "There is about twenty little tables out there Rob. I could serve the whole place all by myself."

Rob frowned. "Sure, but you're not going to. You're just here to help, and keep me company."

She laughed as he winked at her.

The sun was sliding into the river. Ellen dug around in the storage room, finding a slate sign and chalk. Dragging it out, she brought it to the kitchen.

"So what's on the menu chef? Since you have no menus, I found this old dusty thing. We can put it on the sidewalk. She cleaned it off in the sink as Rob wrote out the night's menu on the back of cardboard box flap.

"Tonight's Special. Prime Rib in au jus with herb roasted red potatoes and grilled asparagus."

Ellen waited for the rest.

"That's it," he said as she stared at him.

"That's it? A prime rib dinner, nothing else?" she asked with a scowl.

Rob held his arms out. "We've been here two hours. What did you think we could get going?"

She looked doubtful. "What about a burger or something, this is a pub you know."

Shrugging, he went back to his work. "I don't have meat ground for burgers, or buns. I'm not set up yet to take on anything else tonight. Besides we don't have cash for more stocks. Just run the prime rib special."

She shrugged. "Okay chef. How much is it?"

Rob stopped trimming the asparagus and paused.

"Hmmm. How much was it on The Ship?"

Ellen smiled. "Forty nine dollars."

Rob counted in his head.

"Those were twelve ounce servings... lets do eight ounces and charge... twenty... no... seventeen."

Ellen wrote out the special in big colorful letters and put the sign on the sidewalk. Maria helped Jimmy continue cleaning the neglected kitchen as the crew cooked. Ellen made the best of what she had to work with setting up the tables, rummaging just enough silverware to get by with from dusty boxes stacked in a forgotten corner of the storage room.

It wasn't ten minutes after the tables were cleaned before the first order was placed. Ellen walked to the kitchen window.

"Order chef... One prime rib."

Rob ran to window. "Really! Already?"

Ellen pointed to a table by the TV.

"Yep, that lady right over there."

Deflated, Rob shot her a look. "That's not a customer. That's Katie. She's the owner."

He walked alongside Ellen as she brought out the steaming plate.

"Here you are mam, one prime rib special. Please let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy!"

Katie looked elated. "You know what Rob, other than delivery pizza, this is the first time I have ever sat down and ate in my own place in years. It sure looks great too."

Rob laughed. "Well, I hope you like it. It's simple but savory."

They watched from the kitchen as Katie sampled the food.

"I think she really likes it Rob," Ellen said with a smile.

"What's not to like? It's top quality product," Rob quickly replied.

Ellen smiled again. "Is that what it is? Just good products, or do you think you had something to do with it too."

Rob pointed to Miguel. "Don't look at me. Miguel made it."

Army spoke up from the behind a pile of fresh cut potatoes. "I did the potatoes! I did it all by myself too, except the butter and spices. I can do it alone next time."

Rob agreed. "That's true. Army did the red skins without much help from us."

Ellen laughed. "Well... If they cook that good, what do they need you for?"

Rob shrugged. "I dunno', maybe nothing."

Miguel shot him a look. "What-a-you mean nothing? You're da-chef!"

Army joined in. "Yeah! He's da-chef! He does the recipes and the spices and stuff. What do you mean we don't need him? You're talking loco Miss Ellen."

Ellen held her hands out in defense. "Jeez. Calm down guys. I was just kidding."

Over the next hour, not a single order left the kitchen. As the clocked passed seven, Rob was beginning to worry.

"I guess it will take a while for people to realize The Pub has dinner. It's been forever since they served anything here. Even then it wasn't anything good," Rob said as he stared out at the tables.

Ellen leaned on the window with a bored look. "I don't know Rob. Maybe people will never realize. Or ever care to eat dinner in place like this even if they do like the food. Look, that guy over there is so drunk he's about to fall over."

Rob looked over to the bar. "That's Harvey! He's a general manager at Jeff Ruby's Steakhouse. He's a good guy. He probably drank too much without eating. Here take him a plate. Tell him it's from Rob Anderson.

Taking the entree to the drunken manager, she called out his name.

"Harvey?" she asked.

Harvey looked up with a smile. Turning to her, his drunk eyes tried to focus on Ellen.

"Do I know you? I think so... Yeah! You're that girl from that birthday party at the track right? The one with the really good coke?"

Ellen feigned a smile. "No sir. I'm the one with a plate of awesome prime rib for you. Courtesy of Chef Rob Anderson."

Harvey looked at the plate. Even with his double vision he could see it looked too good to pass up on.

"Chef Rob? Anderson... Anderson? Oh yeah! From The Good Ship."

Taking the fork, he pulled a piece of glistening meat to his lips. Chewing, he yelled out loud across the bar.

"Well I'll be god-damned! I'm eating a fucking perfect prime rib, at The Pub of all places. And I don't even remember ordering it. That's a laugh right there."

Ellen watched from the pass window as Harvey attempted to fork his food with his blurred vision, stabbing at the potatoes over and over until finally spearing one.

"This is some kind of place you're working at here Rob," Ellen said sarcastically.

Rob laughed. "He's the GM at the top steakhouse in the city. If he likes our food, it could do us good. Besides he's a good guy, no use wasting all this food. I'd rather give it away than see it go to waste."

Still watching Harvey struggle with his utensil, Ellen turned back to Rob.

"I'm pretty sure he likes it. He keeps blindly yelling out about how good it is."

Rob looked over at him.

"The one thing that guy knows well is quality beef. Ruby is famous for steaks. I wonder how my food stacks up?"

By nine o'clock Rob was really worried. He had to sell all the prepared food tonight. It wouldn't keep its quality through a re-heat tomorrow. If he was to make an impression on the pub patrons, the food had to be fresh and delicious.

Miguel was just as worried as Rob as he looked at the time.

"Eets usually going steady by now. Looks like we gonna' make no money tonight my friend."

Rob shrugged. "At least we will eat good for free right?"

Miguel nodded. "Man. I can't believe we haven't sold a single order all night. Eets after nine."

Around ten, the service crowd began filing in. Arriving in groups of three, four and more, The Pub soon filled up with thirsty restaurant employees. The TV's were muted as the jukebox came on loud. The bar was soon crowded. Drinkers formed a mass against the bar, two and three deep as they chatted, waiting for Martinez.

Ellen didn't like the change in pace.

"I can't even hear in here anymore Rob. No one is going to want to sit through dinner with all this noise going on. We should just go home and try again tomorrow."

Rob wasn't giving up. He piled a platter with samples of the prime rib, arranging potatoes stuck with toothpicks around the sides.

"Ellen, take this and offer it to the crowd. It is just samples. Don't let anybody hog it all. Pass it around to everyone. If you run out, come back for more."

Carrying out the platter, every passing eye was glued to the sight of it as she made her way around the bar.

"Free sample? Prime rib dinner special, herb roasted potatoes, grilled asparagus, care for a sample?" she asked repeatedly.

The drinkers stole the pretty prime rib chunks with fast fingers as she moved through the crowd. In minutes, the platter was wiped out.

As she returned to the kitchen for a re-fill, Rob watched the crowd through the window.

"Hold on. Let's see if any of them take the bait."

They stood side-by-side watching. Martinez waved Rob's way. Ellen jogged over. He yelled over the bar patron's heads to her.

"I got two orders for the special, that guy and girl right there," he yelled, pointing to a table where a young couple sat drinking.

Through the boisterous crowd, Ellen's eyes met their hungry gazes with a smile. Walking to the window, calling out the orders, she saw Martinez wave again. As Rob plated the first two dinners, two more orders followed, then three.

Squeezed, bumped and squished, Ellen wormed through the crowd taking orders and carrying the plates over their heads to avoid dumping them on the floor. Serving to a crowded bar of hard drinking servers and cooks was nothing like her work in the past. This was fast and loose. No kissing up, no chitchat with stodgy diners answering multiple questions as in the past. Just dump and run, yell and nod. By midnight, they had served over twenty orders.

Rob counted the sales in his head.

"We're up to... over $400 in sales so far. We get half that."

Miguel high-fived Army. "Not bad my amigo, not bad for our first night. We have some money for tomorrow anyway."

Army agreed. "Yeah, and cash too right?"

Rob nodded. "You bet Army, all cash."

"I like-a this job. It's better than The Ship to me," Armando said smiling.

Miguel laughed. "Yeah, eets easier to you because we haven't turned out shit. Twenty-five dishes will not keep us in rent my friend. We need to sell a hundred dishes a night at least."

Army looked frustrated. "I never made more than eighty dollars a shift before anyway. I still think this is better. People will come, you will see."

As the clock passed midnight, Rob told Miguel to start shutting it down. "Let's take home what is left. It looks like that's it for tonight."

As Miguel was carving up the left over beef to fit in containers, Ellen came back to the window.

"Order chef. Four specials. And someone wants to know if they get a half order?"

Rob looked at her from the window. "Four more? This late? Really? What do you mean a half order?"

Ellen shrugged. "Some hostess from Arnie's. She say's she doesn't want to spend seventeen dollars."

Rob laughed. "Fine with me."

He placed the orders in the window. Ellen delivered the half-order and was quickly surrounded by curious faces.

"That's a half order? How much is it? Yeah, I'll get one," a pizza cook with a tall draft said.

One by one, more customers ordered the half portion. By the time she returned to the window, she had five more orders for half portions.

"These people don't want to pay seventeen dollars, or they can't. They all want the eight-dollar dinners. This sucks."

Rob laughed. "These people... You and I are these people Ellen. And if you haven't noticed, we can't pay seventeen either."

Ellen took the half orders out as Rob and Miguel finished cleaning.

Around 2:30 am Martinez yelled out his 'Last Call'. A drunken biker sat at a table, refusing to give over his pitcher of draft beer.

"I paid for it and I'm gonna' drink it," the biker growled. "Fuck you if you don't like it! Or you can come over here and take it from me, if you have the balls boy."

The hostile biker stared at Martinez as he took a big drink straight from the pitcher, spilling beer down both sides of his grisly beard. Sensing the tension, the crowd moved away from the leather-clad redneck. Martinez watched him cautiously as he washed glasses, wondering how far this confrontation would go. Never having seen the guy before, he was reluctant to push him into a brawl. Ellen heard the comment and watched from the pass window. After all the glasses were washed, Martinez walked around the bar, stopping in front of the drunken biker.

"Look man, I have to have your beer now. Last Call was fifteen minutes ago. I've been cool about it so far. Now, it's way too late. We are closing and I have to have it."

The biker slowly rose off the stool smiling. "I wondered if you had the balls boy. Now, you're gonna' find out what the Highway Kings do when you try to take their beer!"

Swinging his fist straight into Martinez's jaw, the blow slammed him backwards against the bar. The crowd quickly scrambled away as stools crashed to the floor. Gasping, Martinez fell, struggling to regain his stance. Rob and the kitchen crew heard the commotion and ran to the dining room.

The crew had no idea what was happening. All they saw was the biker toss a chair aside as he rushed towards Martinez. The stunned bartender kneeled, slumping against the bar, holding his face with one hand, propping himself up with the other. Before anyone could react, the biker began socking Martinez in the ribs, quickly sending him to the floor.

Ellen gasped as her hands covered her mouth. "Oh my god Rob! He's going to kill him!" she yelled.

Rob rushed to help, Miguel close behind his heels. The biker stopped his assault as he saw them approach him from behind. Turning, he faced them, extending his fists.

"Two against one?" he yelled out with a laugh. "Well c'mon fags! I will whip the shit out of both of you pussy cooks!"

Rob moved beside Miguel out of the biker's reach. Not sure what to do next, he paused, thinking of a plan. He felt some relief as the biker had stopped wailing on Martinez. The crowd watched nervously as the three stood in a tense standoff. With eyes locked on the biker, Rob whispered to Miguel.

"On two, you go for his knees, I'll go for his head. Maybe we can get him to the floor."

With a nervous nod, Miguel agreed. Just as Rob and Miguel were about to tackle the biker, Maria came dashing from the kitchen. Snatching a wooden cue from the pool table in mid-stride, she tucked it to her side as she sprinted past Rob and Miguel. Fearlessly facing the biker, she warned him with authority.

"You stop now! You stop and you go!" she yelled, pointing towards the door.

The crowd was shocked at the sight of Maria's brazen confrontation. The big biker raised his eyebrows and laughed. "You guys are real fags aren't you? You have a bitch do your fighting? Fine! I will fuck her up too. I got no problem smacking a bitch. Especially a gook bitch!"

Instinctively, Rob leapt forward to pull Maria out of the way. The biker reacted to Rob's lunge and kicked him hard in the groin with his steel-toed boot. Instantly sent to the floor, Rob felt searing pain swell between his legs.

Before Miguel could react, the biker rushed forward to punch Maria. As his fist flew towards her head, she ducked swiftly under his swinging punch. Rising up behind him, her foot shot out to the back of his knee, sending him falling forward sideways. The crowd backed away in fear as the biker crashed to the floor.

Standing back up on his feet, the angry biker slowly turned to face Maria. With a leap, he reached out wide with both arms to tackle her. Maria's stick whipped from her side. In a blur she smacked it against the biker's head with a loud crack. The crowd gasped out loud at the sound of it.

Dazed and dizzy, the bleeding brute sunk to his knees as his hands gripped the swelling wound. The crowd held their breath as he stumbled back up to his feet. Letting out an angry growl, he spun around with an evil glare. The crowd recoiled in horror as he rushed towards Maria in a violent fury.

"You fucking bitch! Now you're gonna' get fucked up!" he yelled out as he leapt towards her.

Deftly, Maria jumped to the side, leaping atop a table. He lunged to grab her. Grabbing nothing but thin air, he fell hard, crashing into several tables and chairs. The crowd watched Maria in silent awe as the big man struggled in the wreckage, trying to pull himself back up. Perched on the tabletop, Maria studied his eyes, waiting for his next move. Like a batter anticipating a fast pitch, her stick stayed steady above her head, ready to strike in a split second.

"You go now! You go or I will have to hurt you," she warned loudly.

The biker slung his head from side to side trying to shake off the fall. Rising to his feet, blinking his eyes rapidly, he spit a bloody tooth to the floor.

"You're going to pay for that bitch!" he yelled with a grimace.

Making a mad dash towards her again. Maria jumped backwards off the table, landing far from his reach. Throwing the table aside, he rushed at her with a beastly yell, swinging wild punches towards her head. Ducking his fists, Maria dashed under his throws. With a quick side step, she spun on her heels behind him. Swinging her cue into the back of his head, she kicked him hard in the spine. The crowd winced from the loud crack. Falling forward to his knees, he gripped his head in agony. The stunned patrons backed farther away as blood seeped through his fingers.

Watching in frozen terror, Ellen cried out loud as she saw the biker whip out a shiny blade from his belt.

"Oh my god! Maria! Look out he has a knife!"

Panicked at the sight of the knife, Miguel ran to grab him, but the biker backed him off with the blade as he stumbled to his feet. Waving it side to side at Miguel's face, the crazed biker dared him to come a step closer. Fearing the shiny blade, Miguel cautiously backed away.

Leaping from her stance, Maria darted past Miguel. With a whoosh, she swung the cue in a hard golf swing up into the biker's hand. The whole room could hear his knuckles shatter as the blade shot out of his fingers. Bouncing off the ceiling, the knife slid across the floor to a stop against the jukebox. Gripping his broken hand, the biker stared blankly at the floor, stunned in pain and shock.

Wrinkling his sweating brow, he slowly looked up at Maria with crazed eyes. Reaching into an inside jacket pocket, his bloody lips slightly smiled. Fearing he was reaching for a gun, Maria quickly whipped the stick again, landing the fat end solidly against the bikers jaw with a firm follow-through.

Rob, still on his knees in pain, watched through squinting eyes as the man's teeth flew from his mouth. As if in slow motion, the teeth tumbled across the floor like dice. The shaken crowd saw the biker's eyes go wide as he began to fall backwards. Falling flat on his back, his head bounced onto the hardwood with a loud thump. His bloody mouth hung open as his eyes blinked closed.

With two fast steps, Maria moved above his head, her stick poised over her shoulder to finish him with a swift blow. The Pub crowd hushed in dead silence. Everyone waited breathlessly for him to make a move but the big man was finally motionless. Miguel broke the silence as he kneeled down and searched the man's jacket pocket. His eyes shot up wide in surprise at Maria as he held out a black snub-nosed revolver in his palm. The crowd murmured at the sight of it. Pocketing the weapon, Miguel grabbed a boot and began dragging him towards the door. Stumbling up, Rob grabbed the other boot and together they tugged the bleeding man to the sidewalk.

Ellen rushed to Maria's side. "Oh my god Maria, you had me so worried... I was terrified. You could have been stabbed or shot. He was going to kill you!"

Ignoring Ellen, Maria followed along as Miguel and Rob pulled him into the street. Dragging his limp body into an adjacent alley, they hid the biker out of site behind a dumpster. As Maria walked back into the bar, the quiet Pub suddenly erupted into a loud applause.

To Maria's surprise, two patrons unexpectedly hoisted her up onto their shoulders as the crowd clapped and cheered. Still crouched on the floor, Martinez watched as they carried her high towards the bar, cheering loudly. Ellen helped him up to his feet.

"Who the fuck is that chick?" he asked Ellen.

"That's my sister, Maria Lee. She's from Vietnam. You don't want to mess with her, trust me," Ellen replied as she bundled ice for him to hold onto his swelling face.

"Yeah I can see that. Man, she's like a Bruce Lee or something. Maria Lee... Bruce Lee... Is she related?"

Ellen laughed. "Nope, she's half Mai Sun Lee and half Sgt. Marco Addison, both brave fighters. Besides, Maria is Vietnamese, wasn't Bruce Lee Chinese?" she asked.

Martinez shook his head. "Hell I don't know. I do know that girl drinks for free from now on."

Ellen laughed again. "You will have to think of something else for her reward. She doesn't drink at all."

Martinez stared as Maria was carried over. Looking at her as they sat her down, he tried to smile.

"Thanks a lot Maria. You ever think about becoming a bouncer? What a trip that would be! The baddest bouncer in the city... A hundred pound Asian girl... with a pool stick."

Maria didn't know what to make of what he was suggesting.

"Look at that," he said, taking the stick from her hand. "You didn't even break it."

Taking the pool cue, he wiped off the blood with the wet towel and placed it back on the rack.

"I'm not kidding about the job. I could pay you seventy-five a night for Fridays and Saturdays and fifty on the weekdays. You have the job if you want it. Think about it."

Ellen couldn't believe the scene that had just unfolded. Limping to the front window, Martinez clicked off the 'Open' sign and locked the door. The music came back on as the crowd talked in amazement to one another about Maria's impressive actions. Seeing their stunned reaction, Ellen was secretly relieved Maria didn't simply throw a knife from the kitchen door and kill the biker at the first instant of trouble. She was thankful Maria's deadly skills had been tempered with restraint.

Rob stumbled to a booth in great pain. Miguel and Armando finished the closing duties. Martinez poured drinks for the handful of lingering loyal patrons along with free shots for the kitchen crew.

"I got shots here guys!" he called to the kitchen.

Miguel and Armando took their places at the bar top. They waved over for Rob to come join them. Wincing, he was leaning on Ellen's shoulder.

"I can barely walk," he said walking to the bar. "We have to head out now. I have a day job and Ellen needs her rest so we gotta' go."

"You're not leaving without your money are you?" Martinez asked as he printed the food sales from the register. "The grand total is... Seven forty eight. That's three seventy-four to you guys."

Martinez laid the cash on the bar in front of Rob. Rob thanked him as he divided it among the crew. Martinez pulled a hundred dollar bill from the register. Handing it out to Maria, he nodded for her to take it.

"Here, this is for you. It's the least I can do. Without your help tonight... Who knows what would have happened. Something worse than a few broken chairs for certain," he said, pushing the bill towards Maria.

"Oh no, thank you. I only try to help," Maria said, bowing her head as she backed away from the cash.

Ellen pushed her towards the bar.

"Take it Maria. Bouncers get paid you know. You certainly earned it. That guy was scary. No one else here could have fought him down like that. He may have really hurt someone bad, or even killed somebody if you hadn't stopped him."

Maria took the money, giving Martinez another bow.

"Thank you sir. Very much thanks," she said as she took the bill into her petite hand.

Spinning around, she faced Ellen with bright eyes. Bouncing with a big smile, she waved the sticky cash. Motioning for her to come with them, Ellen walked Rob to the door.

"Wow. What a first day huh? I guess we have cab fare between us all anyway," Rob said as he stood on the sidewalk with the two girls. "Did you get any tips tonight Ellen?" he asked.

Ellen counted her cash. "Somehow, I made over ninety dollars."

Rob pulled her close. "No one tips better than servers."

Ellen was delighted. "I hope we don't have anymore fights. That was really scary."

Rob rubbed Ellen's back. "That was unusual. I have never seen a fight there before. Not a real fight like that anyway. You really saved our asses Maria."

Ellen agreed. "You need to be careful Maria. You could get into trouble fighting like that."

Looking up from the hundred-dollar bill, still held in her hand, Maria shot her a smiling nod. Ellen put her arm around Rob.

"I'm not crazy about the rowdy patrons, or the late hours, but the work load is easy. I bet the food will take off soon. I can't wait until tomorrow. What are you going to cook?" she asked Rob.

"Tomorrow, I need to use this money to get those burgers on the menu. I have to keep all our specials under ten dollars. I know this venture will work, I just have to offer what the customers want, at a price they can afford. I'm so used to the prices on The Ship, I guess I forgot where I was tonight," Rob replied.

As they waited for their cab, Maria kept staring at the hundred-dollar bill in her fingers. It was the first American money of her own she had ever held in her hands. She couldn't believe how much she had been given for a mere few minutes of effort. As the yellow cab stopped in front, the three slid into the back seat and sped off.

"It seems so crazy. In just two days, we went from ultimate luxury, to rock bottom homelessness. Now, maybe things will start looking up again," Rob said.

Ellen rubbed his leg. "I hope so. We just have to have faith. Tomorrow is a brand new day you know."

Ellen's desperate wish for a better future was unexpectedly coming to pass, though much differently than she could have ever dreamed. As night turned to dawn, they fell asleep in their beds. Something had changed in each of their lives. The future was still uncertain, but hope had been renewed.

Nestled in her covers, Ellen's eyes finally closed. She saw images of a glowing light. Someone standing in it was waving to her, calling her to come closer. Her dream pushed her mind into feelings of fear that gradually built up to a panic.

Shaking awake with a jolt, she squeezed closer to Rob. His presence deeply comforted her, as did the feeling of having Maria under the same roof. Blinking with a yawn, she fell back to sleep calm and comforted. Their lives were hanging by a thread yet together they were willing to face any obstacle. What fate there was to come, she couldn't even imagine. The only hope she had left was that tomorrow would truly bring them all a brand new day.

Continued in Book 4
If you enjoyed this book (or even if not) please post a review and share your thoughts about the work. If you really enjoyed this book, there are more books in the series. The author truly thanks you for reading.

More Brand New Day Series Books

Brand New Day:

Book 1 – Falling Apart

Book 2 – Coming Together

Book 3 – Square One

Book 4 – Trial By Fire

Book 5 – Ties That Bind

Book 6 – New Horizons

Author Bio

From the beaches to the mountain tops, Wren Rogers has traveled much of the country eating, drinking, cooking, bartending and writing. He currently lives, works and writes in Cincinnati Ohio. Cincy residents may be familiar with his work from his six year tenor as a featured writer for Cincy Vibe Magazine.

While currently residing in Cincinnati near to family, Wren often longs to permanently move back to the city he considers the "Best Damn Place to Live in the US"... Las Vegas Nevada.

"Of all the cities I've spent any amount of time in, Vegas is by far the very best (all things considered). If money was no object, certain cities in California come close. However, considering the lifestyle and cost of living, Vegas trumps the rest for me. Vegas is still the only city that enjoys a weekly calendar of all Saturdays. There simply are no weekdays there (and they have no idea what a sleepy Sunday afternoon or a dreadfully boring Monday night is). I dream near daily of a triumphant final return, yet still I live in the sharpest contrast to that wonderful desert town, cloudy Cincinnati.

Cincinnati doesn't offer even a fraction of the food, music, entertainment, beauty or sunshine of Vegas, but it does have a few interesting characters and handful of hidden food gems. If you spend as many years here as I have, and you have the gumption to dig in the grime, you will discover them all eventually. As far as the music, entertainment, beauty and sunshine... you needn't bother attempting to compare as there isn't any comparison to speak of. I know this well as over five years of my life was dedicated to discovering and writing about the music and food scene in and around Porkopolis. I've run the gamut of the cities diamonds and dives more times than I ever care to do again.

Writing magazine articles was a challenge compared to writing a novel. I had to spell out enough vivid detail to provide the reader with a total encompassing picture, yet keep it super-short and simple. Writing, cutting, reading, then cutting more, then finding ways to eliminate a few more words was standard with every issue. When you have a fixed number of characters to write in, things get tense quick. I learned to crop and trim every syllable possible, yet keep the power of the sentence intact. I learned to like it too. That short and sweet writing style has carried over into my novel series.

I prefer "Plain Speak" to poetic adjective laden prose. I prefer real life plot lines to fantastic impossible scenarios. I prefer stories about real people rather than zombies, vampires, superheroes or any other such imaginary character. I watch and read documentary's almost exclusively. To me, the most interesting stories are about the weird, the strange and the unlikely. The downtrodden that against all odds manage to rise up. The little people, that either made good, or are still trying. Not to mention the ones that gave up and went criminal. I'm more interested in what's cooking in the darkest corner of the most forgotten alley than I am about the newest burrito joint to occupy Downtown Main Street. I'd much rather listen to a local band than ever tune in to a top 40 artist. I'm a hopeless romantic happily rooting for the plain ole' hopeless.

The Brand New Day series is my debut fiction work. Don't let the category of "fiction" fool you. The BND series is one perspective of Cincinnati life many locals will find just a little-too-true to be dismissed as pure fiction. I based nearly all of the characters on real people. The streets and settings are mostly real as well. Even the descriptions of the food, businesses, landscapes and weather are accurate. I took great care to make the series factual as possible. You may be wondering... "Is there really a George, Rob and Ellen?" "Did these things really take place?" All I can say is, Yes. And No. Some did, some are a stretch of imagination. However, by percentage, more than less is entirely true.

In fact, all of the fiction I write could be loosely called "semi-documentary". I imagine it always will be. I can't wait to see what new novel series unfolds under my fingers when I finally decide to write a second work set in the greatest city that ever glimmered under a US sky... Las Vegas. There's little need for fiction when writing about the people, chefs, bartenders, dealers, cabbies, crazies, comics and adventures that run rampant throughout that town. Of course I'd have to be there again to really dig deep and discover the details to get a story worth writing.

Writing the BND series took two hard years. Every evening from 6-midnight and every weekend from morning until dawn was spent on this work. To merit that effort on a second work, this first series must show promise and that isn't easy for a no-name self-published author bobbing in a sea of ebooks that multiplies in swells daily.

My only hope is that the people who do bother to read my work will leave a review to attract others. Since reviews are basically all that can push a no-name little guy like me anywhere near the top, it's all I can hope for. Considering that only my readers can leave reviews, in a very real sense, my entire literary future is in your hands... Now isn't that some shit?

