 
Brand New Day: Ties That Bind

Book 5

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 978-0-9972795-4-2

website – www.wrenrogersbooks.com

email –info@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 fowl 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

More Books in the Series

Author Bio

Chapter 1

From a deep midnight sleep, Ellen woke with a shake from a bad dream. Rob was holding her as she shook awake, stirring him from his sleep as well. Ellen made her way to the bathroom as Rob turned, digging deeper into the covers. The morning came on strong against Rob's wishes. He woke reluctantly, seeing Ellen had already left for work.

Rising up, he had hoped he would be heading to The Pub today to work, paint, clean and get it into shape for the grand opening. But now, all hope was lost. Fumbling through the cabinets, he took a mug and filled it with coffee Ellen had brewed earlier. Swiping his phone, he called Miguel.

"Amigo. Good news and bad," Rob said solemnly.

Miguel's sleepy voice sharpened as he heard Rob's words.

"Whats-a the bad?" he asked.

Rob hesitated. "Harvey is probably selling The Pub to Starbucks."

Miguel sighed. "Whats-a the good?"

Rob smiled. "You have no more charges. No worries about jail."

Miguel let loose a wild yell. "That's real good news Amigo! I can always get work somewhere you know. But I am not ready to be thinking anything about going to jail."

Rob was glad Miguel didn't feel the same devastation he felt about losing their jobs.

"Well, you're free but jobless, same as me..." Rob said.

Miguel interrupted. "No worries my friend. I'm gonna' make some calls. I find a job, you will see. Maybe someday we can get a cantina again you know? Man I liked it there, cooking Mamma's food."

Rob understood. "Me too Amigo, best job I ever had."

Hanging up after a goodbye. He realized how much he would miss the crew and The Pub's little kitchen. He also knew Miguel was right, he could always find some sort of a job, but prison was another story.

Sipping the hot coffee, Rob looked at the laptop in the corner. It had been two days since he wrote anything. Settling back into the recliner, he took the computer in his lap and began typing as it came to life. His fingers ticked the keys, spelling out the details his mind melted together into sentences. The non-stop stream of thoughts filled the page as he typed continuously through the morning.

Replacing his coffee with a cold Mt. Carmel Ale microbrew, Rob's mind was right in tune with the shining sun as it stood tall in it's high noon stance. The words flowed like water from a mountain fountain. Rushing over the page, the flow moved fast, weaving, leaving behind the tale he felt persuaded to tell.

Lost in his leather seat, hours seemed like minutes by the time Ellen came home from work. Rob was still typing as he heard her key turn in the lock. He walked over as she came into the room.

"Hey. Did I catch you in the middle writing?" she asked, sitting her purse on the table.

"It's not even four. Are you done for the day?" he asked.

She nodded. "That's why I like this job. I'm home early and it's easy. I made a hundred and twenty today."

Rob poured her a coffee as she went to change out of her uniform.

Still in his robe, he waited as Ellen changed. She had already been to work, came home and made over a hundred dollars. It made him miss his Pub job already. Coming out of the bedroom, Ellen tossed her work clothes into the empty laundry basket.

"Oh, you did all the laundry," she said with a happy tone.

He laughed. "Yeah, and the other cleaning. I feel like a jobless jerk sitting around here while you work. Tomorrow I will start my job search."

Ellen noticed the computer on the table. "You can use your free time to write."

Rob turned the laptop around. "I have been. Look at all this!" he said, scrolling though the text on the screen.

"I want to read it," Ellen said glancing over.

"No not yet. Soon, but not yet," Rob replied.

Ellen shot him an anxious look, like kid pestering a parent for candy. Sitting at the laptop, Ellen opened the web browser. "Here's an unlocked wifi signal," she said. She enabled the connection and quickly the Google page loaded. "Why don't you start by searching for jobs online," she asked.

Rob looked at her excitedly. "Good idea. See what's on craigslist."

Ellen scanned the craigslist job postings. "There are 141 cook position ads posted," she replied.

Rob sat beside her as she went down the list.

"Thirty seven posts for Chipotle, five for Red Robin, twelve for O'Charley's, ten for Flipdaddy's Burgers..."

Rob laughed. "I ate there once and that was enough. Man that Flipdaddy place sucks, fucking worst burger ever. And their mac & cheese... It was just bare pasta and oil, sprinkled with a few shreds of un-melted cheese on top. Tragically horrible! How do you fuck up a burger so bad? Even Wendy's smokes them. I will never understand how they manage to stay in business. It must be the beer."

Ellen laughed as she read on. "Camp Washington Chili, Max & Erma's, Golden Corral, Olive Garden, a nursing home..."

Rob looked at the list with disgust. "Corporate frozen food and fast food. Not a single honest kitchen job on the list."

Ellen rubbed his shoulders. "That sucks, I bet they are all ten dollars and hour too."

Rob agreed. "Harvey only pays cooks $9.65 to start. That's a damn nice steakhouse with Jeff Ruby's over-valued name on it. I will be lucky to get ten an hour at these places. Maybe I should just look for a server job."

Ellen made a scowl. "A server? That's ridiculous. You're an awesome chef."

Rob shrugged. "It won't do me a bit of good if I make minimum wage. I'd rather serve and make at least twenty-five an hour like you do."

Ellen felt sad for Rob. It was very rare, unheard of even, to see a chef serving. She could never remember anyone that had moved from the head of the line to waiting tables.

"Just keep looking and keep writing," she said. "I make okay money, our rent is low, you have the savings. Don't rush into a crappy job just because you can't find what you want. It will only prevent you from getting a good job."

He laughed as he read on down the list. "You're right. Look at this one... Two years minimum experience as a souse chef, culinary degree required, bachelor's degree preferred... All that and it's a stupid tapas joint! They don't even know what 'tapas' means. In Spain, tapas is free food for the bar patrons. Free food, not over priced appetizers disguised as high priced entrees. Idiots."

Ellen rubbed his shoulders again, patting him as she walked away to the kitchen.

"Just keep checking the list and writing. Something will come along. You just have to have faith."

Rob sipped his coffee as read the list in closer detail.

"I should see how Miguel is doing. Armando and him are the same sinking ship as I am."

He swiped Miguel's name on his phone.

"Amigo!" Miguel answered. "I was going to call you. Armando and me, we are working tonight."

Rob was surprised. "Really, already? Where at?" he asked excited.

"With Amanda, at Applebee's," Miguel replied.

Rob's hopes fell. "How much are they paying?"

Miguel laughed. "Eets only ten an hour. But between us both we will take home over a hundred a day. We can get by for now."

Rob shrugged. "Harvey don't even pay ten, so I guess all in all, that's as good of a job as any."

Miguel agreed. "Amanda knows the people there you know. They seem okay. We start tonight so we might as well take it. If you find a good job for us all let me know. I sure miss having our own kitchen."

Rob assured him he would. Disgruntled with the job postings, he switched to the Word program and resumed writing to distract his despair. Clicking the keys, Rob wrote for hours. In the back of his mind he knew that this time, writing was a self-inflicted distraction from the harsh reality of his unemployment.

Busses hissed and grunted on the street. Cabs honked and motorcycles rattled the windows as they roared past. Soon, Rob found the noise of the traffic too distracting to focus any longer. Switching to a web browser, he studied the job postings again. It was a useless endeavor. There was nothing remotely close to the job he once had, the job that was stolen from his life by George's scam.

Depression set in quickly. Within minutes, Rob was too distraught to process clear thoughts any longer. His mind drifted back to recent memories of cooking at The Pub. The excitement of the venture had been a true high point in his life. Cooking alongside Miguel and Armando, living and working with Ellen, training Maria in a productive trade was satisfying. Having Mamma in the kitchen teaching the time honored traditions of her homeland's cuisine had been endearing to Rob. He wished so desperately that he could bring that experience back alive again, not only for himself, but for the crew as well. Now... it was just a memory, a fond but lost forever time in his life.

Now, sitting at the table in silence, his word had changed. There was no line to command, no food to create, no Ship, no Pub and Ellen was off at work without him. He missed her already. He loved working with her at The Pub and felt the best position in life he had managed to rise up to had been stripped away as if by intention. It was if some unseen evil force was making certain he would never achieve happiness or even brief contentment. He couldn't understand why. He had not inflicted pain or trouble onto anyone. He had remained honest and true to his word in face of terrible events and circumstances. While his morals were not guided by a notion of a religion or it's threat of retribution by an unseen God, his life had been guided by his own moral compass. He lived a true, honest, hardworking man's life. He wished no-one harm and only hoped to create great food and be rewarded with a modest income for the effort.

"Was that too much to ask?" he wondered aloud.

Fishing a cold Mt Carmel Ale from the fridge, he popped the top and stood beside the big front windows. Watching the people passing on the street, he wondered where they were headed, and why. Falling on the sofa, he looked at the coffee table. A thick inch long blunt end rested in the ashtray. It was the remainder of one of Armando's fine smokes. Sparking a lighter to it, Rob puffed the Afgani' weed to life between his fingers.

In mere moments, the stress of life faded as the gripping high took hold. Holding in a hit, he choked up his deep breath in a cough. Soothing his throat with the cold crisp ale, he relaxed. Allowing the buzz to settle in, he rested his body and mind on the cushions for a few minutes more.

Rising off the seat, he resumed his writing. Renewed with passion to tell the tale of his story, his fingers flew across the keys once again. Now the words came easier, his hands could barely keep up with his thoughts. After a few fours of writing, he took a break. Realizing a job would come sooner or later; he relaxed in the idea that he would continue writing and search for jobs daily until one was found. The unwanted time off was giving him time to make real progress on his book. At least that was something important. Still, he felt sad that Ellen was providing all the income outside of his savings. Something had to give. Surely a break would come soon.

Chapter 2

Weeks went by, the daily job search turned up nothing of value. Harvey still had not called. Rob didn't want to wear out his welcome, but had called once to remind him he was still looking. As the days clicked on, Rob settled into a routine of house chores, cooking and writing as many hours as possible. Keeping the food bill to a minimum, he chose to cook mostly Pho, as he had learned to do from Maria.

Ellen worked her daily shift from six to three. She looked forward to coming home to the steaming Pho and enjoyed the variations Rob created, not to mention the authentic condiments that made it different every time.

Making her a bowl, Rob wondered if she had tired of the meal.

"If you're sick of eating this I can make whatever you want. I make it because it's dirt cheap, healthy and fast."

Ellen shook her head as she slurped a spoon of broth.

"I love it. I think this is what is making me lose weight."

Rob's eyebrows rose. Ellen had occasionally mentioned losing weight but the subject seemed to cause her distress, so he had left it alone.

"You're pregnant and getting bigger! How can you be losing weight?" he asked.

She tugged on her shirt. "My shirts are looser, and my pants. My baby belly is growing, my weight is about the same, but my size is slimming down. I thought it was my clothes, but the last couple of weeks, I have really noticed I am slimming down."

Rob looked at her closer. He could see what she was taking about. Her arms, neck, back, thighs and butt were slimmer than before.

Looking up from the keys, he laughed.

"Man, that's a great diet, wonderful, tasty Pho. If eating that makes you lose weight, you have it made."

Ellen rubbed her hips. "I'm telling you it is, this Pho is causing me to lose weight."

Rob agreed. "I believe it, I can see it too. No wonder you never see any fat Vietnamese people, they have the perfect health food diet. I will keep cooking more, we will see how it works out after a few months."

The following week, Ellen was still noticeably losing fat. She decided to ask the doctor about it during her check-up. Coming home from her appointment, she told Rob the news.

"Guess what! I'm in great health and I have lost eighteen percent of my body fat in thirty days."

Rob held her by her shoulders. "That's awesome! 'The Pho Diet'. Who would think? I should write a book about that."

They sat together eating dinner out of big bowls as they casually watched the TV. Flipping the channels, Ellen came across the news. They both poised their spoons in unison as the reporter began speaking.

"Hamilton county prosecutors have filed formal indictments today after a grand jury agreed unanimously to charge two suspects in the Riverboat Row incident."

Both Ellen and Rob instantly stopped still, watching intently, their spoons held halfway out of the bowl as the news report went on.

"Former Good Ship Cincinnati manager Charley Peyton and owner George Achmed were both indicted yesterday on charges of money laundering, embezzlement, fraud, falsifying documents, obstruction of justice and tax evasion. Ms. Peyton is currently being held at the River City correctional facility. Early this morning, a judge set her bail at one million dollars. Mr. Achmed's whereabouts are still unknown."

Ellen pointed to the photo of Charley on the screen.

"No make up, frizzy hair, and an orange jump suit. I bet she is devastated the whole city has seen her looking like this on TV."

Rob nodded in agreement. "She always wanted to be on TV. Now, she probably wants to hide from the cameras. I wonder where George is?"

Ellen swallowed her hot spoonful of Pho. "I don't know but with the Lady Jane and all that money, they may never find him," she said sipping.

They watched silently as the newscast continued.

"Local authorities tell us they have already began the search for George Achmed, who is now listed as an international fugitive with Interpol. We also learned, among the witnesses that will be called to testify at the trial, one name is Chef Rob Anderson."

Ellen shot Rob a surprised look. Rob leaned his head back on the sofa, rubbing his hair in despair.

"Anderson is the critically acclaimed local chef credited for the popularity of the once successful hot spot. Exactly what he will testify to at the trial is not yet known. We will bring you updates on this interesting story as they unfold. Back to you Scott..."

Ellen held perfectly still as they mentioned Rob's name.

"Look at that!" Ellen said smiling. "You're on the news again."

Rob looked back at the TV and laughed. "Perfect, two criminals and me, together in one sentence. That sucks."

As Ellen nudged him with a smirk, Rob thought about the Ship for the first time in months.

"Maybe I should go back there and see if they need me. The pay was actually more than I can come close to now."

Ellen scowled. "For twelve an hour? That's half what I make. Besides, you're going to hate it there. They don't even really cook."

Rob nodded. "I know they don't really cook, but hardly anywhere else does either. Olive Garden is packed and they don't cook anything at all, it's all commissary pre-cooked bagged and re-heated. They don't even boil the damn noodles!"

Ellen frowned. "That's just stupid. Why even go back there?"

Rob shot up from the sofa. "You're right, I can't go back there. I told Paul off pretty hard. Besides, I guess I can get ten an hour wherever, maybe even White Castle."

Ellen laughed. "Now you're just being silly."

Rob looked at her with serious wrinkle in his forehead. "I may have to work wherever soon. I'm still thinking I should just serve. Those jobs are really easy to get. I can make at 20-30 an hour serving. Servers have short hours and four-day weekly schedules. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. How much did you walk with last week working 25-30 hours? At least six hundred I'm sure."

Ellen swallowed her last spoonful of Pho. "Yeah I know. But that's ridiculous. Stop the server talk Rob. You belong in the kitchen. Lets post a resume on Career Builder. That will be a good start."

Rob agreed. He sat beside her as she wrote out the details of his training, experience and education.

"You never know? A truly good place will likely look on here before posting an ad," Ellen said as she finished the post.

"I hope so." Rob replied. "I really hope so. Otherwise, here shortly, I will be out of money and out of luck."

The coming weekend marked four weeks since Rob had worked last. He pulled his cash stash from the drawer. Counting it, he realized he had spent only $700. But seeing the total down under three thousand filled him with nervousness. It would be less than two months until Ellen would be in the late stages of her pregnancy. He knew he needed to find work and fast.
Chapter 3

Friday morning Ellen rose before dawn and headed off to work. Rob made his way around the city, interviewing with job postings that did not detail the pay online. Hoping to catch a break, he spent the entire day riding one bus after the other, walking dozens of blocks in-between.

Three interviews at well-known area eateries all panned out the same. He could start on the line at nine an hour. Worn out from walking and beat down emotionally, he walked back to the bus stop. Standing on the sidewalk waiting, he noticed a barge chugging down the river. He watched it as it passed by the Riverboat Row.

Across the river, he saw the Applebee's Miguel and Armando were working at. Near desperate, it seemed a better option to try and apply there. After all, he would rather work with his friends rather than walk into a different place with unknown people for the same pay.

Crossing the Purple People Bridge, he walked rather than wait for the bus. Walking into the Applebee's, he saw Amanda at the server station. She waved and walked towards him smiling.

"Chef Rob! You can't be here for the food. Heading to the bar?"

He smiled. "Well, not really. Miguel said he and Army were working here. I'm thinking of applying too."

Amanda pulled her head back with a look of shock. "Here? You want to work here? I don't know how long it's been since you ate here but this isn't exactly chef created cuisine. We wear out microwaves here you know. We have at least five of them."

Rob laughed. "I'm sure it isn't fresh made food, but I have a baby on the way and I gotta' work somewhere. If I have to work at crap job for ten or twelve an hour, I would prefer to work with Miguel and Army again. I really miss working my team. Well, my friends, I should say."

Amanda shrugged. "Well, it's an okay place to work as far as the people go. Dan is the manager. He's cool. Kind-of a hard-ass sometimes but that's only because the head office is always on his back about selling more apps, or some new drink, stupid shit, quotas and stuff. He's a pretty good guy though. He's in the office now, I can get him if you want."

Smiling, Rob nodded his head. "Sure, if he's not busy."

Rob looked around the dining room as he waited. Many tables were full as was the bar. Regardless of how poor the food quality was, the place was busy, especially for this time of day.

"It seems really busy," Rob said as Amanda gathered drinks from the bar.

"It's always busy here," she replied. "When football or basketball season is in it's slammed. Sit here at the bar and I will grab Dan after I drop these off."

Taking a seat, he studied the ebb and flow of the place.

After a few minutes, a large man walked up to Rob's seat.

"Dan Meyer," he said, holding out his hand. "I hear you are wanting to apply for a kitchen position?"

Rob stood up shaking his hand. "Yes sir. I'm Rob, Rob Anderson."

Dan cocked his head curiously. "Have you applied here before?" he asked, looking perplexed.

"No sir. My friends Miguel and Armando recently became employed here. I hear good things about you from them and Amanda," Rob replied.

Sitting at a stool beside Rob, Dan relaxed. "Well, we have pretty good crew all around. Are you sure you have never applied here before, your name sounds familiar?"

Rob shook his head. "No, I ran the kitchen on The Good Ship, until that was sold."

Dan snapped his fingers as he pointed at Rob. "That's it! You're the chef from over there. Wow, with all the news coverage of that place you'd think I would have known who you were."

Rob laughed. "Luckily, they hardly ever show my photo. I'm not mentioned much really, I mean I didn't have anything to do with..."

Dan waved his hand. "Oh yeah I didn't think you did it's just... Anyway, you're a hotshot chef. Why would you be looking to work here? We can get all of our food out with simple cooks. There isn't really much prepared onsite, even our ribs are pre-cooked, we just put grill marks on them. Nothing here is very interesting to a chef."

Rob shrugged. "I've been to New York, and all over town here. There are no chef positions open right now, maybe not for a long time. I have bills and baby on the way. I have to earn a living somehow. Miguel likes it here, so I thought I would give it a try."

Dan nodded. "I know that feeling. I quit a mortgage broker job to manage this place when my first was born. I tell you what. Fill out an app, I will send it over to corporate. If they okay it, I will work you into the schedule right away. Miguel is the strongest cook we have ever had. Armando is really good too. If you trained them, I'd be a fool not to get you onboard. I can run this kitchen with just the two of them now. Normally I need at least three guys back there, four on the weekends. Staffing just two line cooks really goes along way to making my payroll work. You would be a regular Joe lineman like the rest of the cooks you know. I don't have a kitchen manager position open right now. And the starting pay is only ten an hour."

Rob agreed. "I expected that. I have to start somewhere."

Dan patted him on the shoulder. "Kitchen managers make thirteen fifty to start. That's the highest paying position. But our KM isn't leaving anytime soon, still you could train here and maybe move to another store in the future. Because of the higher pay, KM positions don't come up fairly often."

Rob nodded. "I will be happy to fill out an app and see what happens."

Dan waved the hostess over. "Sara, get Rob an app and bring it to my office when he's done."

Sara trotted off and came back with an application. Dan told him he would call when he received and answer back. Rob filled it out and dropped it back off to her before he left. He walked through the dining room to the lobby, waving to Amanda as she took an order at a four top.

Deciding to continue his job hunt, Rob bounced along on the bus to the downtown-dining district. He knew walking in the front door and asking about employment was the worst way to get a job in a good restaurant, but it was his last remaining option.

Getting off at the 5th Street Station, Rob's first inquiry was at Prime 47 Steakhouse. It was a recent opening that offered forty to sixty dollar steaks much like The Ship had. Rob was intimately familiar with the simple menu courses and knew he could walk right behind the line and command a strong lead.

Walking up to the front desk, Rob was greeted by an overenthusiastic hostess.

"Hi! Do you have a reservation?" she asked with a big-eyed stare.

Looking around, Rob noticed the dining room was empty.

"Hi. Can you tell me if either your chef or manager is available?" he asked.

"I think Don is still here, he's our general manger," she replied.

"Sure, that would be great. If he has a minute, I would really appreciate it," Rob said

The hostess nodded with a wide smile.

"I will be right back," she said as she dashed away.

After making a quick seat count, Rob realized a place this size must require at least six or seven cooks on the line, and more backing them up from behind the scenes. The fifty-dollar steaks were a stretch in price for this town, so the cooks had to be good enough to produce spot on temperatures at minimum. Surely a line position here paid more than $10 an hour. Checking out the interior and bar, Rob waited quietly as he surveyed the surroundings.

In moments, a short man in shiny suit walked out along with the hostess. Extending his hand, he looked at Rob with ambivalence as he introduced himself.

"Hello, I'm John Moore. Can I help you sir?"

Rob shook his hand with a quick smile.

"I'm Rob Anderson. I asked for a manager to inquire about a cook, or chef position here."

John tapped the hostess on the shoulder, motioning for her to get something out of a drawer.

"Jennifer would give you him an application..."

Rob stepped closer.

"I appreciate that. But I really just wanted to know if you currently have a true need for help on the line. If you are considering adding or replacing a cook, I would love to apply. If things here are running fine, I'll just move on rather than waste time. Excuse my frankness, but I really need to find a serious job soon and I find it best to just ask for your honesty."

John waved Rob to a nearby booth.

"I like your ambition," he said as they sat down. "We have considered adding a cook to the line on weekends, a grill cook most likely. Do you have experience with premium beef?"

With renewed enthusiasm, Rob nodded.

"Absolutely. At my last job, I cut all the steaks by hand. We used Eckerlin Meats exclusively."

John crossed his legs, leaning back in his seat.

"Where did you work?" he asked.

Rob felt a knot form in his throat. He almost didn't want to answer.

"I was the Executive Chef at The Good Ship Cincinnati, for the past two years. I left a great kitchen in New York for that exec-chef job. As you may have heard, it didn't exactly work out in the end."

John shot Rob a smirk as he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Millions stolen in some scam I think."

The conversation was awkward. Rob changed the subject before more was asked.

"I'm totally confident in any aspect of the prep and cook of all steaks. I could jump behind the grill tonight."

Smiling, John waved the hostess over.

"Jen, grab me that application and a diet Coke please."

Looking over at Rob, John asked if he was thirsty.

"Care for drink Rob?"

Shaking his head, Rob declined politely

"No thanks."

Turning back to the table, John crossed his fingers and leaned towards Rob.

"Fill out the app and I will keep it in my desk. At the next meeting, I will bring it up and see what the other managers have to say. If we decide to move forward getting someone onboard, we will call you for an interview."

Rob didn't care for the sound of that. But since he had taken up a half hour in the job hunt here, he decided to fill out the application and then move on. Thanking the hostess, Rob took the application and quickly filled it out. Leaving it with Jennifer, he shot her a wave as he left. His experience told him he would never hear from Mr. Moore about a job there anytime soon, if ever.

Walking just a few doors down, Rob stopped at Trattoria Roma Ristorante & Bar. Scanning the menu, he realized the simple Italian-American would be easy to prepare. Asking the hostess for a manager, the once smiling brunette quickly looked more serious.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she replied.

"I was hoping to find out if there is any need for a qualified cook, or chef here," Rob explained.

The hostess handed him an application from the desk drawer.

"You can fill this out and I will pass it along. All our managers are tied up at the moment."

Rob took the form and thanked her with a wave as he walked out. He knew full well it was a waste of time to bother it filling out. In all his years as a chef, he had never seen a cook hired from a walk-in application. His hopes were crashing.

Crossing the street, he stopped by both Sotto and Boca, both Italian and neither hiring as he could tell. Moving onto the next eatery, Nada, a trendy Mexican menu restaurant, Rob paused as he read the menu.

"Twenty dollar tacos and... three over-twenty dollar entrees," he said to himself. "Two to three guys could pull this off. I doubt this place is hiring either."

A tall dreadlocked hostess smelling of patchouli walked over with a long legged stride.

"Table for one?" she asked, whisking up a menu.

"I just stopped by to inquire about any kitchen positions you may have open," Rob replied.

"Oh, okay, well let me get Chef Jamie, he could answer that for you."

In a moment, a twenty-something, metro-hippie dressed in baggy bell-bottom corduroy pants, sporting a Jamaican beanie came out to greet Rob. Rob wondered how such a costumed kid as this could run a professional line.

"Hey! I'm Chef Jamie Duncan, Uh, Kari says you're looking for a cook position?"

Rob shook Jamie's hand as he nodded in agreement.

"Right. I am checking all the downtown hot spots, so I wanted to see if there was anything open here at Nada."

Jamie rubbed his chin as if lost in thought. Squinting, he cocked his head and nodded towards Rob with a shrug.

"Yeah right, cool. I dig that. Man, we actually have a good crew on the line right now. I think our prep cook 'Space' is heading back to Colorado soon though. Maybe in the fall when the harvest season hits you know? But right now were pretty solid. You should check back then man. We might will need a hand if he jets back home for a while you know?"

Rob did know. He knew he didn't want to become of the trippy team behind Nada's line. He didn't want make tacos all day either. But then again, it was all about the money, or was it? Thanking the chef, he walked back out into the street.

The next stop was Christian Pietoso's Vita Vite, on Fountain Square. Greeted by a hurried hostess, Rob waited alone until Christian's wife Amanda came to the front in a trot. Wiping her hands on a towel, she asked the hostess why she had been summoned.

"This guy is asking about a chef position," the hostess replied.

Amanda shot Rob a look of aggravation.

"You are looking for work?" she asked.

Rob replied that he was and would like to work somewhere with quality.

"We only have the best quality here," she replied. "Christian trained in Italy, have you worked in Italy?"

Rob replied he had not, but had studied Italian cuisine at culinary school and in his previous position in New York.

"In the fall we will probably hire a prep-cook. You can come back and apply then or apply now whichever you like. Christian is very careful about which cooks he allows behind the line. Italian training is kinda' a must for him."

Rob thanked her and headed out with a wave. Nothing was working out so far.

Next door, Rock Bottom Brewery was the last option on the street. Other than the brewery, the only remaining restaurant left on the block was Boi Na Braza, the Brazilian Steak House. Rob had eaten there in the past. While self-praised for their never-ending steak and chop rotisserie menu, Rob never found the praise warranted. He doubted there was a real need there for a true chef either.

Walking into the Rock Bottom, Rob noticed a younger hip crowd gathered at cocktails tables, drinking big drafts and snacking on burgers and appetizers. Asking a nearby server if a manager was available, he waited as she dashed off to fetch her boss.

Glancing over a menu left on a tabletop, Rob realized that other than a few simple steaks and entrees, the brewery offered not much more than wings, burgers and sandwiches. Though the prices were inflated, he doubted there was any demand for another chef in their kitchen. The menu looked as if any halfway decent cook could pull off the simple selections. Looking up, Rob noticed a smiling manager walking to the table.

"Hello young man. I'm Gerald Koats, the GM here. How can I help you?"

Rob explained his mission briefly. Before he could finish, the GM took out a business card and wrote a quick note. Handing it to Rob, he nodded at the card.

"That's our company website. You will find all open positions listed on there. I don't know about our other locations, but we are hiring for a sous chef here."

Rob perked up.

"Really? That would something I would be interested in. Can you tell me what the pay rate is?"

The GM shrugged.

"I believe its $10.65 an hour to start. You'd have to wait until you get an interview to find out for certain. You can apply online. It will go directly to corporate that way. We have thirty-seven other locations as well."

Rob didn't like the sound of the GM's pitch. He wasn't about to start another venture in a dead end corporate job like Bahama Bay.

Thanking the GM with a handshake and a nod goodbye, Rob walked back out to Fountain Square. Trudging on down the street, he went inquired at six more restaurants, all with the same result. None were hiring at over eleven and hour, if they were hiring at all. The tiring job search had been a big dud so far. Forlorn, he decided to head home and try again another day.

Chapter 4

Riding home on the bus, Rob watched as a middle-aged couple fought loudly over their grocery list.

"I'm not shorting the food so you can buy beer. That food is for the family. You can buy your own damn beer..." the woman said.

They argued hostile as the other riders ignored their ranting.

Rob thought of Ellen, how kind and gracious she was in their tough times. How supportive she had been all these weeks, working while he stayed home writing. He knew she was unlike so many other women, he felt special to be with her. He wanted to give her a gift, some sort of thank you for her unwavering support.

The bus stopped at the main shopping plaza. Rob was supposed to transfer here but decided to have a browse through the row of storefronts before returning home. He walked past clothing stores, stopping to consider if Ellen would like anything he picked out. Negating the idea, he walked on.

He walked past a Dollar General, Cold Stone Creamery, a sub shop, a second hand sporting goods store and a bakery. Finally coming to the end at a Roger's Jewelry. He looked at the window display. One section held diamond studded watches, another nothing but bracelets. Two displays side by side were filled with wedding ring sets. He wished he could afford something inside the twinkling cases but he knew these chain stores were always expensive.

Turning back to the bus stop, he looked at the time on his phone. He had already missed the bus home and would have to wait another forty minutes for the next one.

"What the hell," he said opening the door to the jewelry store. "I might as well pass the time checking this stuff out."

He strolled past the displays, scanning the cases of earrings, pearls and sparkling diamond rings.

"May I help you?" A counter girl asked.

"I was thinking of a gift for my girlfriend. But I doubt I can afford anything I see here," he replied, walking slowly.

The counter girl followed his pace. "I have several nice ear rings on sale. Gold, silver, platinum, these colored diamond sets are very popular."

Rob followed her to the display case. She set out a pair of iridescent blue earrings on the counter.

Picking up the box, he thought the ocean blue diamonds looked impressive.

"How much are these?" he asked.

The counter girl pulled the tag from under the box.

"$699, but this weekend they are 25% off."

Rob looked at them again before handing them back. He browsed the cases but everything he asked to see was five hundred or more. Finally the counter girl showed him a pair of simple diamond earrings, with much smaller stones than the others.

"We have these for just $99, this weekend only."

Rob perked up. He took the box in hand. The stones were so small, he couldn't tell the difference from the stone and the silver setting around it. He felt embarrassed to buy them for Ellen. They didn't come near to expressing his feelings.

Thanking the counter girl, he walked back to the bus stop. Riding along towards home, he watched the other riders as they filed on at each stop. He noticed an elderly man help his wife onto the bus. Ignoring the impatient people behind him, the old man patiently held his wife's arm, smiling as she slowly stood up onto the first step. They took a seat behind the driver, scooting close together. Rob saw in them the dedication and time tested devotion to each other he hoped he and Ellen would have at their age.

Rather than riding the bus down the blocks to his stop, he departed with several other passengers at the next busy intersection. The road was lined with mom & pop stores, a strip bar and a pawnshop. He browsed the windows of the shops as he walked along, jogging across the street, looking in the windows that interested him.

Moving on, he stopped at the pawnshop window. The dusty display was crammed with items; a cross bow, a drum set, electric guitars, power tools and flat screen TVs filled the space.

Walking in, he went to the jewelry counter.

"Can I help you?" The gruff man asked, not bothering to stand up off his chair.

"Just looking," Rob replied, as his eyes scanned the display case.

Much like the last jewelry store, the case was packed with rows of sparkling diamond earrings, watches, bracelets and necklaces.

Spotting a pair of earrings with much nicer diamonds than the hundred-dollar set at the jewelry store, Rob asked the clerk to see them. He scooted off his chair and opened the case.

"Yours for a hundred forty buddy," he said, setting them on the counter

Rob looked at them closer. "Are they real?" he asked, watching the light sparkle off the gem.

The man took out an electronic device shaped like a marker. Touching it to the stone, he pressed a button and showed Rob an illuminated green light.

"When that's green they're real. Red, they're CZ," he explained.

Rob liked them the more he looked at them. "One forty you say. I was hoping to keep it around a hundred.

The gruff man mumbled. "One twenty five and that's my best price. Nice diamonds in those you know. Price a pair like that at the mall. It'll cost your five times that price."

Rob knew it was true. "One twenty five... Put them aside, I will be back in ten minutes," Rob said.

The man shrugged and put them back in the case. "They stay for sale until they're sold. Come back when you have the money."

Rob didn't argue. He explained he would be right back and jogged back home to get the cash.

Taking the money from the stash, he headed back to the pawnshop. Minutes later, he walked out with the present in a bag. He was excited over the good deal. His mind imagined the look on Ellen's face when she came home and saw the gift.

Scrounging through the apartment, he found a tissue paper from discarded packing material and wrapped up the small box neatly. Walking around the rooms, he looked for spot to place it where she would find it.

"The kitchen... No. Oh, on her pillow. But what if she doesn't go to the bed for a while... The bathroom! She always changes in there. No that's weird."

Finally he decided to simply place it on the table next to the laptop.

Hour after hour went by. Rob typed, stealing glances at the package.

"I hope she likes it..."

He wondered if she would appreciate the sentiment or simply be confused as why he would by her earrings for no reason.

Two o'clock. Rob knew she would be home soon. Just then he realized he had no card. Taking a blank paper and folding it half, he began to write his own.

"I hope you like this gift... I wanted to say something special..."

Wadding it up, he tossed it away. On a new sheet, he started over.

"This is a small token of my feelings for you and the joy you bring me... May these bring you happiness in reminder of our love..."

He wrinkled that paper up and tossed it as well.

"This sucks. Cards are harder than they look."

Skipping the paper, he typed out his words on the computer first. Over and over he typed and erased the words.

Looking at the clock, he felt pressured to come up with something good enough... Something powerful to tell her how he really felt. He wrote a string of words.

"Love, joy, happiness, completion, excitement, devotion... Damn, I just can't string these together the way I want."

Studying the words over and again, he felt an electric shock jolt his spine.

"Holy shit! I got it! How did I not think of this sooner?"

Grabbing up the jewelry box, he dashed out of the apartment, sprinting back to the pawnshop. Out of breath, he placed the box on the counter. The gruff man looked over.

"No returns," he said, pointing to a sign.

Rob shook his head. "You don't understand. I want to swap them, not return them."

The man walked over. "Swap them for what?" he asked curiously.

"For that," Rob replied, pointing to a specific item.

The man took the jewelry out the case.

"You have a good eye. That's a nice piece right there. Came from an estate sale in Indian Hill. That's vintage artisan craftsmanship. You can't buy a new piece with work like that today for under a few grand. This particular one is a one of a kind, custom made. You can tell by the maker's mark."

Inspecting it closely, Rob loved it immediately.

"How much is it?" he asked.

"Five hundred," the gruff man replied. "And I'll give you a hundred in the credit for the earrings."

Rob didn't hesitate. He counted out the cash, took his gift and ran back to the apartment.

Dashing inside, he had barely shut the door when he saw Ellen coming up the stairs. With no time to wrap the box, or make a card he felt a panic. Without even a second to think, he turned to Ellen as she came in the door. Holding out the un-wrapped box, he stood smiling.

"Surprise!" he said as she looked at him and the tiny box in his hand.

"What is this Rob?" she asked as she opened the lid.

"A token of how much I love you," he replied smiling.

Filled with excitement, she opened the lid. Rob watched her face as her eyes landed on the sparkling stone. With trembling fingers, she slipped it out from its velvet-lined box.

"Rob this is a... An engagement ring," she said with a gasp.

His face was stretched with a huge smile.

"So what do you say? Ms. Addison, will you be my Mrs. Anderson?"

Ellen's eyes filed with tears. Dropping her purse, she hugged him hard. Nearly crying against his cheek, she whispered through her chocked voice into his ear.

"Yes Mr. Anderson. I would love to be your Mrs. Anderson."

Excitement and love filled the room. Aromas from Rob's dinner wafted from the kitchen in the summer breeze. As the sun sank low, Ellen dined in candlelight bliss as they sat close and cozy together on the sofa. After dinner, Ellen tugged Rob's arm to the bedroom. She felt like a new woman as their passion heated the sheets.

Settling into an orgasmic high, the two lay close in a cuddle. The curtains waved in the wind, washing a cool breeze over the bed as the stars shined in the moonlight. Ellen couldn't imagine being happier. Rob felt just the same. Even his unemployment woes had subsided for the moment. He was content, still and quiet in Ellen's arms. She wrapped his hand into hers, glancing every few minutes at the glittering ring on her finger. Each look renewed her happiness. Together, they drifted off to sleep in comfortable silence.

The next morning, Ellen awoke feeling happier than she could ever remember. Rob was still sleeping as the dawn broke over the Newport skyline. Ellen was usually waiting on the breakfast crowd at this time, but today she was off. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted into the bedroom stirring Rob awake. Walking into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, he saw Ellen sitting on the big sofa.

"If I keep slimming down, I can fit into a proper wedding dress, even with this baby bulge," she said.

Smiling, she rubbed her growing belly. Rob sat beside her with his steaming mug.

"Why worry so much about it. It's the one day what you weigh doesn't matter."

She laughed. "You don't know much about a girls wedding day do you? I'm thinking in a month I will be down to size 9. That's two sizes smaller than I am now, four sizes smaller since I started eating nothing much except Pho."

Rob shook his head. "That's amazing. It's not like you are going hungry or anything. You've stumbled onto a great way to lose weight. You'll have to thank Maria," he said with a laugh.

Ellen wanted to spend her day off shopping for wedding necessities. Rob held her hand as they browsed the shops. She tried on wedding dresses, each time beaming a smile as she spun in the mirrors surrounding her. Walking hand in hand with Rob back to the apartment, they pondered ideas on where the wedding would be. Ellen scanned for prospects on her phone. After making several calls and getting prices, none seemed to work out.

"Everything is just so expensive. And the affordable ones are too crappy for a day like this. We need something that fits us, something quaint and cozy."

Stopping at the bottom of the steel stairs, Rob paused at the bookstore window. Leaning closer, he peered in through a peeled corner of the yellowed newspaper covering the glass. Ellen stepped to his side.

"There is a key to this store in the mailbox," she said.

Rob ran to the box, fishing his hand down finding the key.

"Let's just check it out. It has a great old world charm from I can see. If it's anything like the upstairs, it could be just what we are looking for."

Opening the door with a creak, the dust stirred as the summer breeze swept in from outside. They walked into the room quietly, as if to not disturb anything.

The main area was a large open room. Shelves lined the walls floor to ceiling. Several other shelves formed rows down the center. Along the back wall, a large counter top ran from one side to the other, stacked high with old books and piles of papers. More shelves lined the walls behind it. A doorway on the back wall led into another room.

They walked through to the rear of the building. Past the doorway, they found a kitchen with old appliances. Walking on past, that they found a bedroom, a bathroom and an office.

An antique roll top desk sat dusty, stacked with papers and books. Ellen looked around the rooms.

"This is really cool, this is a cozy one bedroom apartment back here."

Rob took her hand and pulled her back into the main room.

"Picture this, we move all those shelves into the back rooms, pack away all these books and papers. Set up chairs in rows like the books shelves are now. Line this counter with flowers. Place the cake and plates over on that side. Set up the buffet on this side. Some candles and flowers all along these huge window seats... We can store folding tables in the back rooms during the ceremony. We can turn this into a great space for a wedding and a reception!"

Ellen walked around, picturing the room as he described.

"This would be perfect!" she said enthusiastically.

Rob agreed as he went on. "Right. Plus, we can use our kitchen for the cooking. The food can stay upstairs until needed. If the kitchen down here works too, we use it as well. We have plenty of room."

Ellen hugged him. "Not to mention our honeymoon suite is twelve stairs away," she said, still envisioning the wedding. "Let's call Mr. Abner, see if he will rent it for a day. I will tell him he gets a free clean out on this old place for our one day of use of it."

Ellen knew Mr. Abner was ill and unable to work on the bookstore anymore.

"I think he will go for it. He's actually pretty nice," she said as they headed out.

Locking the door, Ellen put the key back, heading upstairs to call about the bookstore.

Rob paced as Ellen talked to Mr. Abner. After only a few minutes, she thanked him and said goodbye. As she hung up, Rob could see by her expression it was a go.

"He says we can use it. He was glad to have someone clean it up. He was in the middle of cleaning when he got really sick. We can work on it whenever we like."

Rob was elated. With his unemployment, he had plenty of free days to get the place in proper order.

"I will start tomorrow," he said with his arms out wide. "Make your invitations... We have a wedding to plan!"

Ellen hugged him, spinning in a circle in the center of the living room.

"See!" Ellen said. "Things do work out sometimes, you just have to have faith."

The next two days, Rob worked from dawn to dusk on the bookstore. Ellen helped after work. By the following weekend, the room was clean and bare. Pulling the paper off the front windows, Ellen replaced it with thin white sheer curtains. Rob was organizing the bar when he first noticed her pull the paper off. The room instantly brightened with a warm light.

Looking up, Rob paused. "Man this place is awesome. Those triple bay windows are massive. I never noticed how beautiful they were covered in that old newspaper."

Ellen stood in the center of the ten-foot tall windows. "I love this huge window seat. It runs all the way around, a dozen people could sit here comfortably."

Rob walked up close beside her. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, they gazed at the sunset filling the windows. "This is going to be beautiful. We should time the ceremony to start an hour or so before sunset.

"That's around seven. That's kinda' late for a wedding," she said with a scowl.

Rob laughed. "Talk about kinda' late... Look at that belly. Let's say six o'clock then."

Laughing, Ellen agreed. "Six o'clock, three weeks from now. That will give us enough time to mail out invitations, order the cake, rent the chairs and tables..."

Rob interrupted her. "And... create a menu for the dinner."

They stood in a close embrace; the setting sun warming their faces as it came streaming through the glass.
Chapter 5

By the following week Rob and Ellen had the bookstore ready for decorating. Ellen was at work early Tuesday morning. Rob had been checking his email for a reply to his Career Builder resume. So far, there were no replies. It had been over a week since Rob applied at Applebee's. Anxious to find out their answer he decided to call Dan.

The hostess transferred the call to Dan's office.

"Hey Dan, Rob Anderson here, we talked last week about the line job. I was just following up..."

Dan coughed nervously.

"I was meaning to call you yesterday. Things got real busy last night... Anyway, here's the deal. I can't get you on the crew. As much as I would like to, corporate won't go for it. Odd thing is, they are out in Kansas City. I don't know how, but they know about The Good Ship, George, the news coverage, Charley... and you too. It's one of those egg headed "bad association" board-meeting decisions. I wish I could help you Rob, I could sure use your skills. But until all this media and court stuff blows over, they are going to pass."

Rob held the phone in silence. "Applebee's won't even hire me?" he thought, as Dan waited for his response. Rob stuttered. "Oh... Okay, sure, sure, I understand. I never really thought about it like that but I guess they have a point."

Dan felt bad. He was well aware that Applebee's level of restaurant quality was nowhere near fitting for Rob's talent. He was under no illusions that their menu was nothing more than common frozen reheated commissary food. He knew how hard it was to push your way to the top level of the cities restaurant scene as Rob had. Dan also knew it took a truckload of humbleness for a chef such as Rob to even apply for job on his line. He imagined Rob must have been floored to hear he was passed on. Dan tried to consul him.

"Look Rob, to say something positive, it's best for you they passed. You would be bored with the work here and you would stop your job hunt. You really should keep looking for a real chef position. You shouldn't settle for just any old cook job. I know I wouldn't if I could cook like you. I hope you find a job that suits your talent."

Rob thanked him. "I'll be serving soon if I can't find anything. Then I guess my talent won't really matter at all. But thanks for trying."

Dan sympathized "I hope you find a something that suits your level of expertise. I'm sure you were not to blame for any of this unfortunate business in the news. It's too bad your name is tied up with it all. So much for the old saying 'All press is good press' huh?"

Agreeing, Rob thanked him again. They exchanged goodbyes and Rob set the phone on the sofa.

"Fucking Applebee's passed on me? This is bad, this is real bad."

Rob felt forlorn all over again. Sliding down into the cushions, he sat still and quiet. After several minutes, with nothing else he could do, he picked up the laptop and started writing.

Three weeks went by and no job offers came his way. Rob was glad he still had enough savings for the wedding. At least he could provide that for Ellen, before he went totally broke. The day before they were to be wed, he and Ellen decided to celebrate with a dinner at the steakhouse Harvey ran. Seeing them arrive, Harvey personally seated them in a plush private VIP table usually reserved for celebrities.

Harvey turned to the hostess. "You take of care of these two like your job depends on their satisfaction, because it does. They are our VIP's tonight. I want Marcus to wait on them. Tell him the same thing. The entire menu is comped. Tell him I will tip him out personally," Harvey said as he waved the hostess away.

Rob was filled with near embarrassed gratitude. "You don't need to buy our dinner Harvey. I came here with plenty of money to pay. This is our celebration, tomorrow we get married."

Harvey laughed. "I'm going to feed you til' you wanna' die. Then I'm going to buy you drinks til' you wanna' puke. If you live through tonight, then you can get married!"

Rob laughed along with him. "We just want a quiet dinner. Nothing off the menu."

Harvey pointed a finger at him with a wink as he walked away smiling.

Marcus was setting their drinks on the table when the chef came out to their table.

"Rob! Hello I'm Dave. I took my fiancée to dinner at The Ship last fall. The food was fucking fantastic. We talked about it all the way home, later that night I proposed. I heard this is your wedding celebration dinner. Kind of a twist of fate huh? Well, tonight, I return the favor. If it's okay with you both, please allow me to just cook and serve you the best we have to offer. I would consider it my personal pleasure, no kidding."

Rob didn't know what to say other than the obvious. "Hell yes Chef! Thanks. We would love that."

Chef Dave nodded as took the menus away, handing them to Marcus. "I have to prepare special meals for ball players and celebrities all the time, this time... I will be cooking for someone that I really want to cook for, someone who can really appreciate what I'm trying to do here. To me, this is the best part of the job. Any allergies or diet restrictions I need to be aware of?"

Rob looked at Ellen. She shook her head, as did Rob.

"No, we are happy to eat whatever you prepare."

Chef Dave nodded. "Then just relax and enjoy the drinks. The first course will be out in about twelve minutes."

Sharing a smile between them, they both thanked Chef Dave. Rob understood what cooking for a fellow chef meant to a chef. He missed being behind the line with such focus and passion.

Ellen sipped a tea while Rob enjoyed a first rate Cincinnati Angry Orchard cider. Marcus came to the table carrying the appetizers. First, still sizzling diver scallops, wrapped in smoked bacon sitting in a spoonful of dashi broth topped with wild mushrooms and pickled celery root.

Ellen eyed the dish with hungry eyes. "I have been skipping all meat out of my diet but tonight..."

Rob cut her off. "Tonight my lady, you will dine with no regard for calories or diets. This is our celebration meal. Chef is pulling out all the stops. Let's just enjoy what we are offered."

Quickly agreeing, Ellen forked a scallop to her plate.

Three minutes later came candied pork belly with butternut squash and apple slaw.

Next, came creamy blue crab bisque, stocked with chunks of fresh crab.

Right behind, a platter of perfectly cooked crab cakes with a spicy Creole mustard sauce.

Both Rob and Ellen were already in a culinary bliss by the time the last appetizer was placed on the table.

"Chef Dave says it will be about twenty minutes for the entree course. Please enjoy these while you wait," Marcus said as left the table.

The two sat on the edge of their seats, exchanging forkfuls of food, commenting on the fabulous flavor, flair and presentation the chef accomplished as they dug into the fine fare. Tucked discreetly in their private booth, Ellen felt like a celebrity dining on their own personal buffet.

Just as promised, in twenty minutes the entrees arrived.

"First, a steak to share," Marcus said as he placed an amazing charred platter of beef on the table. "This is our 45 day dry aged 24 ounce center cut porterhouse."

The plate had no garnish, no accompaniment to clutter the presentation or steal the spotlight from the beautiful beef. The only addition to the meat was the pat of Maytag blue cheese butter on top. It melted before their eyes as they sat looking at the dish with renewed appetites.

Rob sliced off tender pieces for Ellen, then himself. They had barely made a dent in the steak when another dish came out.

"Bourbon marinated duck breast, with seared foie gras and sweet onion-bacon jam," Marcus explained as he sat the dish down, quietly whisking away empty plates as he moved away from the table.

With his first bite, Rob felt a rush, like a drug coursing through his veins as the duck nearly melted in his mouth. "That steak was awesome. But this... This is divine."

Ellen nodded with her mouthful. "I wasn't looking forward to eating meat, but this is too good to pass up on."

Again, they had just begun to really dig in when the next course arrived.

"Blackened grouper, with a cilantro-dill butter sauce. Served alongside sautéed broccoli rabe and carrot & cauliflower puree," Marcus said as he bussed the plates again.

Ellen looked at Rob with wide eyes. "How long is this going to go on? I could have never imagined such a meal."

Rob agreed. "It's all excellent. They do a really good job here. This is truly fine dining. It makes me envious."

Forking off chunks of fish onto their plates. Ellen subtly moaned as she ate a spoonful of the pureed carrot & cauliflower. "God I love this. You have to make this for the wedding."

Tasting it, Rob nodded in agreement. "It would be great for wedding. It's addicting, healthy, super cheap and it holds well. That's a great idea."

Ellen stole more of the rich creamy puree. "I just love it. It sounds stupid but it's my favorite thing so far."

Rob scowled. "It's not stupid. It's an appreciation for something simple done right. I love it too."

High on flavor, the onslaught of dishes slowly lulled them into a trance like state as they forked bites from their buffet of beautiful dishes spread across the table. Marcus continued his close monitoring, never interrupting as he cleared the plates and replaced their drinks.

Seeing them slow, he stopped beside the table. "I will be back in five with your dessert if you are ready," he said with a smile.

Rob looked at Ellen with a sigh. "I don't know if I can eat anything else," he said.

Marcus waved him quiet. "I have strict instructions on the meal," he said with a wink and a smile.

Returning, he placed an amazing array of treats on the table.

"A trio of temptation. On your right, our house made cheesecake, with a white vanilla cake bottom and a pomegranate-hard cider glaze.

In the center, you have a three-layer Amedei chocolate cake, with salted caramel sauce and crushed roasted almonds.

Last, a Key lime pavlova with mango coulis & tequila, over caramelized pineapple chutney."

Both of the diners stared in awe at the beautiful creations. Marcus placed fresh forks and linens beside the dessert platter.

"Would you care for coffee with your dessert? We have a wonderful Paradise 22 Brazilian bean espresso tonight."

Rob looked at Ellen in wonder; they both nodded with smiles and thanked him.

The decadent desserts finished their experience with a soulful satisfaction. Eating all they could of each dessert, they sat back in their seats, sipping the aromatic espresso with stretched full stomachs.

"So much for my Pho diet. I've ate two thousand calories at least in the last hour," Ellen said, rubbing her belly.

Rob rubbed her thigh under the table. "Who cares, this is a celebration. We are very fortunate to be enjoying a meal like this. It was simply amazing."

Ellen agreed as she sipped her steaming drink. She felt peaceful, perfectly content in her life now, both her fiancée and the baby in her belly comforted her. Tomorrow they would marry. Nothing could have prepared her for the level of intense emotion and happiness she felt all week. Tonight, relaxing after the gourmet meal, everything was comfortably perfect. A warming bliss fell over her. Rob kissed her, whispering in her ear, making her laugh with his secret words.

Harvey came to the table for the first time since seating them. Arms outstretched, he smiled. "All was well I take it?"

In silent appreciation, Rob nodded his head with a sigh. Ellen spoke up first. "It was amazing. We couldn't imagine a better meal. It was better than anything I expected."

Rob agreed. "I can't thank you and Chef Dave enough. It was a benchmark."

Harvey waved him off. "We do it every night. Maybe not with the finesse and extra effort as with your meal, but pretty close. Chef Dave always does a good job."

Rob smiled. "I wish I was back there with him. This is wonderful food to work with. That dry aged beef... My god. It actually melts."

Harvey nodded. "I know... Enough about the food. So when is this wedding?"

"Tomorrow," Rob said.

Harvey threw his arms up, slapping them back to his sides. "I suppose I wasn't invited or I guess I would have known about it before now then," he said teasing.

"I would love for you to come. I didn't have an address and I didn't want to..." Rob said nervously.

Harvey cut him off. "Yeah yeah yeah. Give me the time and address. I will be there."

Ellen jotted it down and passed it across the table.

"Now get out of here," Harvey bellowed. "Go rattle the bedposts. By the look of your wife-to-be here, you have been doing that plenty well."

Ellen blushed as Rob laughed. "I try my best," he said through his laughter.

They thanked him again as Harvey walked them to the sidewalk. The night air was cool as the stars shown bright above the Cincinnati skyline.

At the apartment, they had just shut the door when Rob took Ellen in his arms. Pulling her to the bed, he lay her down gently. The love they made this time was new and passionate. Ellen's eyes trickled with tears of joy as her body combined physical pleasure with her intense emotions.

Feelings of longing and love calmed her soul as she felt him inside her. She stared into his eyes as he kissed her silently, softly up her shoulders and then her neck as he slowed his pace. Finally, holding back no longer, releasing inside her, Rob slid down to her chest. Worming to her side, spooning her in a wordless warm embrace, they relaxed in the moonlit silence. Gently closing their eyes with one last blink, a peaceful sleep fell over them.

They slept soundly all through the night.
Chapter 6

Waking fast as the day broke, Rob jumped from the bed with a jolt.

"Today is the day!" he kissed Ellen as she tried to look at him through sleepy eyes. "I'm going to start cooking. Miguel will be here at noon and I have to start the stock before he comes."

Ellen stayed under the covers as Rob rattled pans in the kitchen. Her nerves sprang to life. Jittering butterflies tickled her belly under her warm covers as she came awake.

The breeze pushed the aroma of the simmering stocks and sauces across the apartment into the street. Rob worked in tight focus, Bossa Nova Jazz played on the speakers behind him. As the time passed, he realized this was the first unbridled culinary creation he had endeavored since The Ship was sold. The motions and rhythm of the process were soothing yet invigorating to him at the same time.

Crushing fresh rosemary, Rob rubbed the sticky herb on the wooden cutting board with his hands, working the stiff bristles into soft smashed pieces, oozing with potent flavor. Ellen walked in, standing in the hall just watching. Wrapping the rosemary in cheesecloth, Rob wiped his hands and began the same process with a handful of roasted garlic cloves.

Ellen didn't speak a word. The notion that it was bad luck to see her groom on her wedding day seemed ridiculous to her. Standing in the hall, leaning on the corner staring with loving eyes as Rob prepared the food reminded her of why she was so excited about getting married. Watching his passion spill into the pans was the first thing that attracted her to him. She remembered when they first met, wanting to ask him on a date but being paralyzed by thoughts of the painful rejection that would follow if she dared to act on her feelings. She remembered the two long years of secretly yearning for him... and finally, the intense drug that caused her to take a chance, in spite of her fears.

Silently remembering the past, scenes of Vietnam flashed through her mind, some funny, some horrifying, some pure romantic revelation. Her life was far removed from the fat lonely girl who left Kentucky for the first time just months ago. Standing in the hall, one hand softly rubbing her baby belly, she watched Rob with a satisfying stare. She was here, he was here, they were together as one. There was no other time or place she could imagine she would rather be than here and now in their apartment on this day. The fact that she was getting married in mere hours only made it more wonderful.

Rob worked in content silence as the morning turned to noon. Miguel knocked at the door as expected. Ellen greeted him smiling. Miguel came in with grocery bags in his arms. Setting the straining bags on the table, he got straight to work prepping.

"Dees dishes are all new to me amigo. I don't know what to do next," Miguel said, staring at the ingredients.

Rob laughed. "Don't stress about it. We have more than enough time to make anything over except the stock... and the sauce. There are two keys to catering success. One, make nothing that can't hold for at least three hours. Two, leave time for a re-make if something goes wrong."

Miguel chopped onions as Rob slathered herbs and spices onto a pink prime rib with his bare hands. Like massaging an aching back, he rubbed the beef with olive oil, then squeezed and pushed the fresh herb rub into the meat with strong slow strokes. Slapping it with a smile, he washed his hands.

"Six hours from now, and you will be lovely," he said as he slid it into the antique oven.

By three o'clock, all four burners were simmering big pots, both ovens were loaded and the range downstairs was at full capacity as well. Rob manned one kitchen, while Miguel worked in the other. Ellen had been in her own world, pacing between the bedroom and the bathroom as she got ready for the ceremony. Conversation had been nearly nonexistent, save Miguel's yelling up the stairs for Rob's input on his next step.

"It's five o'clock, you have to go get dressed and be downstairs by six," Rob said to Miguel as he checked all the food.

"I will be ready, you will see," he said smiling as he waved to Rob, heading down the steel stairs.

Rob looked again to make sure all the burners were set to warm, then left the idle kitchen to get ready.

Showering and shaving, he dressed in the mirror. Ellen had set out his clothes and the ring out for him. He realized he not seen her for some time.

"I guess I won't see her in her dress until the ceremony," he thought as he tied his new shoes.

Checking the clock, he made his way down to the bookstore; guests were already gathered inside. Walking in, Rob found Miguel and Armando manning the bar and appetizer station. It had been his idea to serve a few drinks and snacks prior to the ceremony in an effort to keep the guests occupied just in case there was a delay.

Light jazz played on discreetly placed speakers. Jose and Maya smiled to Rob as they sampled from an olive and cheese platter. Momma reached out, hugging Rob as he passed by her side.

"Such a handsome man... and I'm sure Ellen is the most beautiful bride, I can't wait to see her... What a wonderful day, I am so happy to be here."

Hugging her back, he thanked her.

Harvey bellowed Rob's name, holding out his arms from across the room. He was standing with an unfamiliar friend and two familiar Hooter's girls.

"Anderson! You like a million bucks," he said, hugging Rob. "I brought a few friends, I didn't think you would mind."

Rob hugged him with a pat. "Not at all. We are glad to have you all."

Rain shot Rob a sly smile. "I'm guessing your girlfriend was okay after the incident that night with the boobs," she asked with a laugh.

Rob laughed with her. "It was a detour yes, but it all worked out in the end."

The other girl smiled as Rob thanked them for coming.

At the end of the bar, Rob saw Heather and a familiar looking date at her arm. She waved with a wide smile as her date sipped red wine. Martinez and his girlfriend stepped closer when Rob came their way. Shaking his hand, Martinez pulled Rob close, whispering. "You're putting me on the spot man... My girl is all giddy over this wedding, that puts the pressure on me you know."

Rob laughed. "I can't help you there. For us it was the other way around. I sprang this on Ellen, she had no idea."

Martinez patted him hard on the back as Rob headed towards Maria.

"You look amazing in that dress!" Rob told her as she re-stocked the appetizer platters.

"Thank you so much Rob. I feel so thankful today. I have this family and all these friends, I am very glad to be here, with you and Ellen. I hope I have the happiness someday that you have."

He hugged her close. "I know you will. And I am just as glad to have you as my family. I really mean it."

Maria smiled, wiping a tear as they broke their embrace. Looking at her watch, her eyebrows rose. "Oh! I need to go and find Ellen now. It's nearly time to start right?"

Rob agreed. "Yeah. I will get Miguel and the director of the ceremony ready. I will see you in a few."

Speaking with the director, Rob reminded him of the procedure. The small crowd took their seats as the director moved to his place at the head of the isle. The song Ellen chose for the wedding march played from the speakers. She heard it from the back room and felt the squirm of nerves when she realized this was the moment. In seven minutes, she would be Mrs. Ellen Anderson.

Maria smiled with tears in her eyes, as Ellen looked at her in the brief second before she turned the handle on the door.

"This is it," she whispered to Maria.

Wiping her eyes, Maria walked with Ellen out the office door into the crowded room. Walking down the aisle, Ellen looked radiant. Just as Rob had envisioned, the warm glow of the late afternoon sun illuminated her face. Standing between the big windows, he stood smiling as their eyes locked onto one another from across the room. The crowd and surroundings melted into a blur, the music faded away. She felt time slip slower with each step, nearly pausing as Ellen stepped close to Rob. Taking her spot at his side, they turned to the director.

"Ladies and gentleman, let me start by thanking you all gathered here today for showing your support and dedication to these two before us on this special occasion...

Rob and Ellen share a love so strong; it has inspired them to express it today with this time-honored tradition of marriage. The desire for the two to be one is a wonderful thing. To think as one, act as one, plan as one and live in the love they share as one is an aspiration so many long for and yet so few ever find..."

Rob looked at Ellen as the director continued. He heard the words he and Ellen had written together but couldn't listen. He was still lost in her eyes. As if telepathically connected to her thoughts, he smiled causing her to smile. The director's words broke the spell.

"Everyone knows the term 'Marry and Married' but few know the real meaning. Originally, the term was not about a man and woman, a husband and wife, nor to do with love. It comes from the earliest days of old, when winemakers mixed one batch of too sweet wine with another batch of too tart wine, creating a perfect balance between the two.

The now 'married' wine transformed the two separate wines into a single, new thing altogether, a much better thing. Once the wines were married, no one could ever separate the two individual varieties again. They were forever bonded, blended together as one, inseparable from that moment on..."

Suddenly the director's words took control of Rob's thoughts. He pictured the wines being mixed into a new single flavor. He realized how true it was that they were inseparable after that, just as he wanted to be with Ellen.

"In the same spirit of marrying the wines, today we are all witnesses as Rob and Ellen are married in spirit. From this day on, we pray they work as one, live as one and love as one."

Ellen felt her palms sweating. She knew what he was going to say next.

"Ellen, do you take Rob to be your husband and soul mate? In this life and the next?"

Ellen fought back the tears with a giant smile.

"I do!" she replied, looking through tears into Rob's eyes.

"Rob do you take Ellen to be your wife and soul mate? To love and cherish for all of time"

Rob took her hand in his as he answered. "I do. I truly do."

As Rob held Ellen's hand, the director smiled.

"This ring is a symbolic representation of the never ending cycle of life. The never-ending togetherness you both have chosen to share. Rob, place the ring on Ellen's finger."

Taking the ring from Miguel, Rob slipped it on Ellen's shaking finger. She had been wearing it for the past three weeks, only removing it the night before. Today it looked like it belonged there all along to him as he held her hand in his.

"Ellen you may place the ring on Rob's finger."

She slid the plain band over his finger nervously.

"Rob, you may kiss the bride!"

The crowd cheered loudly. Harvey let out a bellow.

"Way to go Rob! Kiss that girl!"

Rob pulled Ellen close, kissing her hard. Holding her tight, he kissed her again softly. His head on her shoulder, he stood still, just holding her as if they were alone.

"Ladies and gentlemen I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson!"

The crowd clapped loudly and cheered again. The newlyweds turned around, smiling to the audience. Ellen's eyes were blurred with tears of joy. They walked back down the isle with Maria and Miguel following behind. Stopping at the last seat, Rob turned to the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming. Now, let's eat!" he said with a waving gesture.

Rushing to the kitchen, Miguel, Rob, Armando and Maria scurried to collect the buffet pans filled with food from the ovens. In a fast three minutes, they placed the pans in the decorated holders on the bar top, pulling off the lids as they went along. The crowd filed in a line at the bar, Maria and Army dished out the food as the guests made their way along the buffet.

Rob knew he should be seated with Ellen but he couldn't help from tending to the food. Helping alongside Armando, Maria nudged him to exchange places with her. Standing next to Rob, Maria whispered to him.

"You go now. Go to Ellen, we can do this. This is easy. No reason to worry."

Reluctantly, he realized she was right. He was so used to working, he felt odd not taking control.

Sitting next to Ellen, they talked quietly until the crowd had taken their plates and sat down.

"Let's get a plate," he said, helping her up out of the chair. "It feels so weird to eat at my own buffet, served by other people," Rob said with a laugh.

Ellen laughed too. "I couldn't care what we eat. I am so happy."

She wiped a blurring tear from one eye as she took a plate in hand.

Sitting side by side with Maria and Miguel, Rob and Ellen enjoyed their special dinner together.

"Dees ees good shit amigo!" Miguel said as he forked his food.

Ellen agreed. "It's amazing. I thought our meal at Harvey's was great, but this is awesome."

Rob swallowed his drink. "Thanks Elle'. This took eight hours to make. The chef at Harvey's doesn't have the luxury of that kind of time. It's all about timing."

Ellen shrugged. "Even still, it's fabulous, better than any restaurant menu I've ever seen."

Miguel nodded. "Eet ees for sure man."

Maria sliced her prime rib with a fork. "So tender, I love this."

The tables were filled with smiling guests, each commenting on the fabulous food.

The crowd dined and drank. After the buffet pans were wiped out, the music picked up. Armando had been insistent that they allow him to be the DJ after dinner. Now, he had his headphones on, juggling the songs, coaxing the crowd to get up with lively dance music.

Miguel and Maria moved the chairs and tables out the way, creating a dance space in the middle of the room. Harvey and the girls were the first to move the center, dancing to the beat. Harvey's unknown guest, Mitchell, was still at his table, happily eating his meal. Rob made eye contact with him as he looked up from his plate. Smiling he waved Rob over.

Rob took a seat next to Mitchell.

"Am I to understand you made all this food, alone, today?"

Rob shook his head. "No. Miguel and I did. I couldn't have done it without him."

Mitchell waved his fork over the plate as he spoke. "The dishes here... They are all your own? I mean, you planned and executed the entire menu?"

Rob nodded. "Yeah. This is just a collage of Ellen's and mine own favorite dishes. I suppose I tried to thread them into some sort of theme but basically it's just what we really wanted to eat and serve."

Mitchell swiped a piece of prime rib into the rich sauce. "I don't know if Harvey told you, or if you're even interested, but I have a catering company. I often have part time work for cooks and servers. I could offer you some part-time work in our kitchen, you would be an asset I'm sure."

Rob eyebrows rose high on his head. "Sure! I would love to..."

Mitchell cut him short. "Business is sporadic in catering. It's not a steady workweek. One week you may work twelve hours a day, the next week, maybe nothing."

Rob didn't care. It was a job and a chance to really cook again.

"I would rather cook part time than re-heat full time. Right now, I haven't many options."

Mitchell smiled. "Great! Our cook positions pay $20 an hour."

Rob was elated. "Thank you sir! I would be excited to start cooking again, really cooking."

Mitchell took a drink of his wine. "We can talk about it all later. This is your wedding and celebration is all that's in order tonight. Call me Monday."

Rob shook his hand as he stood up from the table.

Mitchell grinned at the dancers. "Maybe I will work my way in on a dance or two with those cute girls Harvey brought. I'm twice their age, but he's even older than me."

Rob nodded. "I think that's a good plan. They are very friendly girls. Enjoy yourself, and thank you again for the generous offer. I will call you Monday," he said as he noticed Ellen talking to Maria.

Walking up to Ellen's side. She turned to hug him.

"It's our time to dance now," he said, pulling her to the dance floor.

"Oh no Rob. I don't want to really... I would rather just..."

Armando took his cue and played a song Rob picked out for their dance. Ellen heard the song begin and smiled with a sigh.

"Just one dance then," she said as he pulled her to the dance floor.

Taking her hand, he held her close. The other dancers filed into couples as the slow dance music moved them into pairs.

Ellen tucked her head into his shoulder as they swayed close together on the hardwood floor.

Rob whispered in her ear. "Well Mrs. Anderson... This is not so bad after all is it?"

Ellen had never danced before. Not that she hated it, just that no one had ever asked her. She missed her prom, too embarrassed to show up without a date. She stayed home on the weekends, or worked through most of them. Until now, she was too self-conscience and nervous to imagine dancing with so many eyes upon her. The moonlight sky reflected in her eyes, her feet followed Rob's, her arms holding him around his back, moving to the music in total bliss.

As the song came to a close, Armando switched up the pace with a modern pop dance tune. The Hooter's girls jumped into action as the tempo sped up. Harvey and Mitchell paired off with them quickly. More people moved to the center of the dance floor as Rob and Ellen slipped away to the side.

Armando took off his headphones, motioning to Amanda and Miguel. The three gathered behind the long bar, waving to Rob from across the crowd.

Rob waved back. "I think Army wants me to come enjoy his Middle Eastern weed," he said to Ellen as he watched him waving.

"You go, I'm going to sit down for a minute."

Rob kissed her and walked to the back room, following them outside.

After a few minutes in the circle of smokers, Rob felt the powerful pot calm his giddy nerves.

"Damn Army, this stuff is like heroin," Rob said as took one last puff.

Amanda laughed as Rob passed it to her coughing.

"Hurry up Mandy," Army said seriously. "I have to get back before the song stops."

After a few hard hits, they snuffed the fat blunt and joined the crowd inside, each smiling in their own unique version of a serious high.

Rob joined Ellen at the wedding cake. Ellen took a slice as she sat down at the bar to eat. Harvey walked over, dancing with a wide grin.

"You two look great together!" he said, hugging Ellen with one arm. "I put a card in with your present basket. But I wanted to give this to you in person."

Harvey took a lumpy envelope from his pocket and handed it to Rob. Ellen watched as Rob thumbed it open, pulling out two keys and a vehicle title.

"It's for my Honda Odyssey. I know you two don't have a car... and with the baby coming I figured you could use it."

Rob handed the keys to Ellen in sheer surprise. "Jesus Harvey! A car for a wedding present? That's just too much!"

Harvey laughed. "It's no Corvette, it's just a ten year old mini-van. They offered me around a grand for it last week when I wanted to trade it in. It has over 200,000 miles, but I have had a lot of work done to it over the years. It's in great shape, top of the line model and all at the time. I figured I might as well give it to a good cause rather than let them screw me on it. The title is signed and notarized. I drove it here, we will take a cab back home."

Ellen was just as surprised as Rob as she held the keys in her hand.

"This is too generous Harvey. I can't believe... "

Harvey hugged her. "I am happy to do it. Your two deserve it more than anyone in my fucking lazy ass family does. I'm glad to see you have it. All you need now is a baby seat."

Rob thanked him again and shook his hand. Harvey patted him on the shoulder.

"Now you two enjoy your party. I need to get back to working on Rain over here. Three fucking weeks of dinners and clubs and she still hasn't given anything up except a couple drunken blowjobs. I'm still holding out for a threesome. You know how weddings get girls all juiced up and all."

Rob shrugged with a smile. "Maybe tonight's the night," he said with a laugh.

"It had better be. Or it will be the last fucking night," Harvey said, taking the rest of his shot down with a quick swallow.

Miguel walked over with Maria, Mamma, Maya and Armando, handing Rob and Ellen an envelope. Rob stopped before opening it.

"You didn't put money in here you? If you did you can take it back right now," Rob said.

Miguel hushed him. "Eets from our family. A little something from all of us."

Rob opened it and pulled out the card. "Best wishes to our on your big day..."

Opening it up, inside it was written by hand. "Mi familia es to familia."

Rob handed it to Ellen. Feeling the envelope, he slid out several hundred-dollar bills. Seeing the thickness of the bills, she tucked them back in without counting them. Shooting Rob a look, they both knew the family had given more than they should have.

Shooting him a scowl, Rob shook his head. "I told you... No money! You guys are ridiculous."

Miguel hugged him with a slap. "We love you amigo. We all do, mamma too. That ees from us all you know."

Rob felt tears welling in his eyes. Miguel and his family had truly embraced him. In most ways, more than his own ever had. As he looked at their smiling faces, realized where he once felt loneliness was now filled with love.

Ellen hugged Mamma with teary eyes. Mamma warmed her with an embrace. Armando squeezed through the crowd holding out his present. "It's from me special. I made it all on my own."

Rob peeled away the wrapping paper around the box. Opening the lid, inside were a dozen intricately decorated candies, each one unique in color and shape.

"Wow Army! These look amazing!" he said, staring at the precise lines and brilliant colors of the candies.

Ellen took one, biting into it as Armando watched with wide eyes. "Hmmmm," she moaned as her teeth sank in. "These are awesome Armando," she said between bites.

Armando smiled and nodded. "I knew you would like them! I just knew it! I gotta' get the song again..." he said then shot off to the bar.

Miguel leaned towards Rob as Ellen talked to Mamma and Maya. "Amigo..." he said with a hug. "We are family... So I tell you something... Something just for you, you know?"

Rob nodded with his head bent to listen.

"Maria and me... Well, we going to have a baby too."

Rob shot his head up with his eyes wide. Miguel hushed him quickly. "Just for you, you know. Maybe we get married before we tell Mamma."

Rob's face beamed a big smile he could barely hide. "Amigo!" he said, shaking Miguel by both shoulders. "That's wonderful! You know I will be there for you, just as you were for me today!"

Miguel patted him then backed away with scowl and sly smile; worried someone would notice Rob's enthusiasm.

Rob shot a smile at Maria. Instantly, she knew what Miguel had told him by the look on Rob's face. Blushing, she slipped away. Ellen noticed the odd look they had shared as Maria moved away without a word.

"What was that about?" Ellen whispered.

Rob shook his head. "Not now, I will tell you later. I can't talk about it here."

Ellen shot him a scowl as he turned, motioning her to stay with Mamma and Maya, in fear her reaction to the news would give away Miguel's surprise.

As night fell, a full moon rose through the big windows. Rob stepped up behind Ellen. Holding her around her waist. Resting his head on her shoulder, he rubbed her belly with both hands. Neither spoke, they simply stood nearly still among the dancing guests. Rob's warm hands moved in slow circles over Ellen's baby belly. Ellen placed her hand over his, following his motions. His lips touching her ear, he whispered.

"Twelve steps away..."

Turning, she kissed him. "Let's say our goodbyes, I'll meet you upstairs in a half hour," she said smiling.

Making her around the room, Ellen said her goodbyes and thanking the guests. Miguel was still dancing but obviously tipsy. He hugged her several times before she made her way out the door. Maria assured her she would lock up and come tomorrow to help clean and put the room back in order.

Ellen made it up to the apartment before Rob. After ten minutes or so she heard him close the front door behind him. He found her in the bedroom, still in her wedding dress. Illuminated by the glow of a dozen candles, a soft warm light lit the room. Ellen had never looked more attractive or inviting to him as she did tonight in that dress. Rob slid into the bed beside her without a word.

Lost inside her eyes, he moved his hands down her thigh. Pulling the fabric out of the way, he found her womanhood naked under the dress. Ellen had already taken off her undergarments, leaving only her dress on. Rob's fingers expected to find material covering her warmth, but as his hand glided between her thighs, he was excited to find it bare, wet and waiting for his touch.

Running his fingertips lightly up and down her legs, he sat along side her, parting her thighs as he pulled her dress up higher. Ellen's breathing picked up pace, her wetness was increasing in anticipation of the lovemaking she so longed for at this moment.

As his fingers slowly slid up and down her skin, he kissed her thigh. First with long warm kisses, then subtle licks, moving down towards her heat inch by inch. As he softly caressed her, a mild electric current ran from his touch to her spine.

Rising up on all fours, he moved over her, face to face. Staring in her eyes, he brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Kissing her neck, his lips left slow kisses on her sensitive skin as he nuzzled under her ear. Her thoughts were a blazing blur of emotion, thinking one moment about her heartfelt love, the next moment about her stirring lust. Rob kept her trapped in-between the two, rubbing her womanhood for a few seconds then pausing to focus on soft kisses along her neck, mouthing secret whispers in her ear.

With the slightest touch of his fingertips, her nipples hardened under her dress. He could feel them stiffen against the silk fabric. Sliding her dress down, he freed her breast. Growing to keep pace with baby inside her, Rob noticed her increased girth as he wrapped his whole hand around the bottom of her milky flesh, gently squeezing it to his open lips. The sensation of his mouth sucking lightly on her nipple caused her to shudder with a gasp. Her competing thoughts of love and lust were solidly fixated on lust now as Rob pulled her into his mouth while rubbing her womanhood again.

Her wetness was at an all time high. Even she could feel her insides warm and slick with passion as Rob's finger slid in to her gripping essence. Pulling her dress back, Ellen opened her legs wider, looking directly into Rob's eyes with begging desire; she shut them fast as his eyes met hers.

Her head leaned back on the bed, Ellen whispered softly. Her words stirred him hot inside. Pushing his finger into her, he pressed up against her pelvis with a circling motion, all the while rubbing her tingling button with his thumb.

"I feel so... I just want... Please, I just want to feel you inside me," she moaned.

Rob kissed her on the lips, he rubbed harder for a final few seconds before giving in to her wishes. He felt her legs stiffen, her breathing stopped as she bit her lip. His lips clamped around her nipple again. Pushing her arms against the bed she arched her hips up into his touch. Pausing dead still, she shivered, gasping a slight cry.

"Oh... my god... I can't... Stop, stop I can't take it anymore."

Sliding his finger from her womanhood, inching her knees as far apart as possible, he moved between her legs. Her face was innocent and angelic, yet the look in her eyes was raging with burning lust. She reached out for him with both hands. Pulling him closer to her, she felt his manhood brushing against her heat.

His arms strained on both sides of her body. Finding her heat, he found her wet with excitement. With a slow push, he slid inside her. She wanted to pull him deeper, rock into him, filling her every inch. But he stalled his entry, shallowly sliding in and out without fully penetrating her wanton womb.

She couldn't take the teasing motions any longer. Moving into him, she pushed her hips against his, taking him deeper with each motion. Rob knew what she wanted. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he pulled her legs back, straining them nearly to her ears. His thrusts increased their tempo. Ellen whispered broken words between gasps. With a shiver of intensity, Rob shot his head back as his movements stopped abruptly. Ellen's eyes opened and stared into his face. He held still, eyes closed, his face contorted with a sheer pleasure.

Falling on his elbows, he rested above her chest. Brushing a tangle of hair from her face, he kissed her. Pressing his cheek against hers, he felt a hot tear from her eye run down his face. This was a love he had never imagined. At long last, he felt complete.

Resting in her arms, he was too struck by emotion to speak. Ellen understood. She felt just the same as they lay in silent bliss, holding one another under the light of moon as the flickering candles lulled them to sleep.
Chapter 7

Monday morning Rob arose early, dropping Ellen off at work, he called Mitchell. After a brief conversation, he drove over to Mitchell's office to fill out paperwork and get started in his new job.

Sitting behind his cluttered desk, Mitchell looked over the application.

"It all looks great. I would introduce you to the crew now except our next event is on Friday so no one is here today. We prep on Thursday; you will meet the crew then. Be here at nine sharp. I will have you on the payroll by then."

Rob stood up, leaning over to shake Mitchell's hand and thank him.

By the time Rob rounded up groceries and fueled the van it was time to pick up Ellen from her shift. Sliding into the leather seat, she smiled asking how the meeting went.

"I start on Thursday," he said with relief.

"Really? What is the event?"

Rob realized he didn't think to ask.

"I really don't even know... I was just thrilled to be working again and never thought to ask."

Ellen laughed. "Well, I guess it will be a surprise."

They talked about dinner and Rob's new job as they made their way home. Rob unloaded the groceries as Ellen changed out of her work clothes. Stacking the bags on the table, he sat out a small mound of ingredients.

"This is everything I need to have you drooling in front of your plate tonight," he said with a smile.

Ellen smiled back as she watched him start the dinner he had chosen just for her. She could see the renewed enthusiasm in him as he began cooking. She was relieved not only for him getting the job, but in the notion that she would now be able to step back from work. The past few days she was feeling pain again. It didn't worry her as after a day or two of rest the pain would subside.

Nevertheless, she felt her body sending a warning that if she continued working, the pain would become more severe. Sooner or later, she had to take time off. Now, she felt she could relax as they had a new income.

Thursday couldn't have come soon enough for Rob. He waited anxiously as the days passed, eager to start his new job. Arriving at the office at a quarter to nine, Mitchell was pleased with his promptness.

"Good morning Rob!" Mitchell said as Rob walked in. "Let's walk down to our catering kitchen and introduce you to the staff."

Rob followed him through the corridors of the industrial space to the main kitchen. He was surprised at the set-up.

A massive bank of commercial appliances sat in the center of the room. On one side, a row of worktables and under counter coolers spanned the space. Parallel, a long row of metro racks sat side by side loaded with ingredients.

"This is our principle work station," Mitchell said pointing. "All of the meals are prepared here and kept overnight in the cold room. The following day, it is heated, packed up and trucked to the event site via our delivery van."

Rob watched as cooks and prep workers began to quickly unwrap and measured out ingredients on the workspace.

"The lead man here is Chef Mike Thompson. Mike's been with us for a few years now and does a great job."

Mitchell walked Rob to where Chef Mike was stacking boxes of pasta, checking them off a clipboard as he counted them out.

"Chef Mike, this is Rob Anderson, Chef Rob will be joining us as of today. If you will, introduce him to the staff and use his talents where they are needed. He is quite a skilled chef. I think you will find him very valuable."

Mitchell shook Rob's hand and thanked him for joining the team before leaving Rob with Chef Mike.

Rob waited in silence as the chef counted off the boxes on the list. Setting his clipboard down, he looked up at Rob.

"Sorry about that, you kinda' caught me off guard. It's always busy back here the day before service."

Rob understood completely. "Well, I am happy to help where I can."

Chef Mike shot him a nod. "Do you have experience with sauce making?" he asked.

"Sure," Rob replied. "Quite a few cuisines and ethnic varieties. Other than Mexican, I am not as trained yet in truly authentic recipes as I would like, but I am familiar with most all of the basics in most cuisines. All except for Middle Eastern, that one has still eluded me."

Chef Mike raised his eyebrows. "Middle Eastern? I wouldn't worry about that. We don't get too complicated here. For example, for this event the customer requested an Italian theme. We need three gallons of marinara and three gallons of white Alfredo. Nothing fancy, but tasty nonetheless. The recipe is right over here."

Rob smiled. "I can certainly do that."

Chef Mike took Rob to large twelve-burner cook top. "You'll find the ingredients on the racks behind you, and the recipe is in this binder. When the sauce is done, we cool it to room temp, then store it in the air tight containers, label it, date it and chill it overnight in the walk in."

Rob clapped his hands together. "I'm ready, it looks easy. I will get started right away."

Chef Mike told him if he had any questions to ask him right away.

Rob set the five-gallon stainless stockpots on the range top. Following the recipe he brought the sauce to a low simmer, tasting it as it cooked. Chef Mike stopped at the steaming pots. Spooning a taste onto his tongue, he nodded in approval.

"Good job, those are both great. After they cool you can start stowing them in the walk in."

Rob was glad the chef liked his first contribution. Still, he felt the sauces were a bit plain and lacked the last tweak of proper seasoning. Deciding to follow along with the program, he kept his personal opinion silent.

As the day went by Rob chopped veggies, boiled pasta, stuffed manicotti and layered lasagna. By the end of the day his muscles were beginning to strain under the weight of hefting fifty-pound bags of onions and big buffet pans full of food. This was industrial cooking on a scale Rob had never experienced. He was just finishing his last pan of manicotti as Chef Mike stopped to check his progress.

"Looking good Rob. With that last pan there, we have everything ready for service tomorrow. Finish that one up and once it's stowed you can head out. I will see you here tomorrow at nine. We have to bake bread, chop salad, heat all this up and get it to the event by four. After we unload, we start setting up our stations. We have a twelve-hour day tomorrow. I hope you sleep well, the hard work is about to begin."

Rob finished the manicotti, labeling and storing it with the others. Clocking out, Mitchell asked him how his first day went.

"Great! No problems at all. This work involves more volume at one time than I have experience with, but the process is quite simple."

Mitchell smiled. "Good to hear it. I hope you feel the same after tomorrow's service. The event itself is always the testy part. Some can handle the pressure and others get on tilt. Some give up and quit altogether. You seem like a tough kid. I'm sure you will do fine."

Laughing, Rob agreed. "I can't imagine pressure so intense I would ever walk out in the middle of service. In fact, I look forward to the challenge."

Rob thanked him again as he headed home.

Ellen asked many questions the moment he walked in about the job.

"How did it go? Do you like it? Is it going to work out?"

Rob smiled as he changed out of his whites. "Jesus Elle' it was fine. What's with the twenty questions? You act like I just got my first job or something."

She hugged him, as he stood shirtless. "I know, I'm just really hoping I can take off work soon. If this job works out, I can. If not..."

Rob hugged her warmly. "You have to take off. It's not a choice. This job should get us by. I just hope they can keep me working often enough."

Ellen returned to the sofa as Rob undressed. She knew he would do his very best to provide for them during her maternity leave.

Coming out of the bathroom, Rob sat close next to her, explaining his tense feelings. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm sorry. I just get scared when I'm not working. I've paid my own way since I left for college. It's a shock to my system to rely on someone else to provide for me."

In his hug, Ellen relaxed. "I'm not providing for you Rob. We provide for each other together. Think of it that way. We need to function as a single entity. There is no me, or you, yours or mine, only us and ours. Isn't that what you always say?"

Ellen felt a wave of relief that Rob's job would work out. "I will give my leave notice tomorrow, finish out the week and then take off. The manager already expects me to take off soon. She is very co-operative about the pregnancy, she has three kids of her own."

Rob shook his head. "That sounds great. It will work out fine. I still have some savings left over after the wedding too."

Ellen nodded, "One thousand seven hundred and forty three," she said.

He smiled at her exact count of the savings. "I'm glad you keep such close track of the money. I'm not as inclined to stay on top it so close."

Rob opened the fridge door wondering to make for dinner. "We made Italian today at work. Do you want something like that?"

Ellen shook her head. "No way. I fit into that wedding dress amazingly well. I lost more than my goal sticking to Pho. I'm not stopping now."

Rob shrugged. "You don't have to talk me into it. I love that stuff."

Taking out the wok, he started prepping for their dinner.

The hot Pho soothed their hunger pains. As the sun faded into the river, they sat content on the sofa watching a travel show in a cozy cuddle. Heading to bed early, Rob wanted to be well rested for the event the next day. Sitting up in the dark, he took an hour to finish a chapter in his book that had been on his thoughts. Closing the laptop, he slid next to Ellen and sank into a deep sleep.
Chapter 8

Rising early, Rob realized Ellen was already awake. After his shower, he dressed in his whites. Walking into the kitchen he found fresh coffee and a fruit plate breakfast waiting.

"Wow! Thanks Elle' this is just what I needed," he said, taking the steaming cup.

"I hope all goes well at the event. Those catering gigs can be crazy," she said.

Rob waved her off with a smile. "Why does everyone keep saying that? How hard could it be? The food is already done by the time we get there. I don't understand all the frustration people associate with it."

Ellen laughed. "I worked a few events at my first job. It can get pretty crazy. Wait until you're faced with a bride-zilla. Some crazed woman screaming and crying about tiny details or other nonsense. Yelling at you in the middle of a big crowd. Tell me how easy it is then."

Rob shrugged. "I'm not the manager, or even the head chef. I'm a cook. I just cook the food. That's all I focus on. I can handle that."

He finished his breakfast and gave Ellen a kiss as he headed off to work.

Arriving a few minutes early, Chef Mike waved him over as soon as he clocked in.

"Chef Rob, good morning, here's the plan. These guys and gals are leaving with the equipment. They will get set up while you, me and our core kitchen crew stay here and bring all the dishes up to temp. We still have bread to bake and salad to make as well. After lunch time, we will get things ready to ship and by four we will meet them onsite with the food."

Happily, Rob got to work as instructed.

By three o'clock, the food was ready and they crew began packing it into the van's insulated cargo boxes. Rob rode with Mike as they drove carefully to the event location. The event turned out to be an expensive birthday party for the father of a Bengals football player.

Following along as the staff began, Rob found his way as the crew flew into action setting up the buffet and preparing for service. There was so much equipment in the van Rob felt as if he was helping a large household move as he made trip after trip lugging the heavy pans and supplies back and forth.

The pace was steady as the crowd formed a long line in front of the buffet. Rob moved quick but careful as he worked his station. This face to face with the customer version of service was very different to him. As the diners faded away from the buffet, Chef Mike started rounding up the unnecessary equipment quietly and discreetly. By eight o'clock, the service was down to a bare minimum with only dessert and coffee stations left remaining.

"We're finished with the main courses," Mike said to Rob as he stacked empty pans on a rolling cart. "The servers can handle the dessert. Break down your station, then ride back in the van with me."

Rob rolled away his pans and utensils. Packing them in the van, he sat in the passenger seat waiting for Mike.

"We're outta here!" Mike said as he climbed in the driver's seat.

The pans clanked and banged in the back of the van as they drove.

"Not a bad gig is it?" Mike asked.

"Hell no," Rob replied. "I think it's easy. It's a lot less pressure than working a line in a ninety-seat restaurant on a Saturday night. So much can go wrong. Server error, misunderstood customer requests, printer or computer crashes, equipment failure... Lots of things can crash a line, and you have little time to recover before it all goes down into the weeds."

Mike nodded with a knowing smile. "I used to work like that, at The Maisonette, back in the day. That was a long time ago, but I still remember nights when something slowed us down, we fought to recover all night, sometimes we never could catch back up. Those days sucked."

Rob agreed as they talked about the work, their life and past experiences. Unloading the van, they rolled the pans to the dish room.

"No dishwashers here. We do it all. Its not chef work, but I don't mind," Mike said.

Rob pitched in. "I don't either. I want to know I'm grabbing a clean pan when I reach for one. If some lazy dishwasher didn't clean it properly and I fill it with food before I notice... I'm screwed and so is the food. I've had that happen, it sucks."

The crew formed a four-person line and knocked out the dirty pans and utensils with a quick pace. "We don't leave them to dry. We dry them off and store them right away," Mike said as he handed Rob several wet pans.

As the last pan was dried off, Mike slapped his thighs. "That's it. Show is over. Good job by all tonight, it went off without a hitch," Mike said as the last of the serving spoons were polished and stored.

The crew said their goodbyes and headed out into the city. Rob headed home to Ellen. He was excited to see her and get back to writing. A key issue in his story had been resolved in his thoughts as he worked the evening's service.

The following week, Rob only worked one more event. Ellen took her leave from work as Rob took over as the sole source of income. It was a few days later when he received his first check. Excited, he opened the envelope with Ellen.

"Six twenty," he said with a solemn tone. Ellen knew it was less than he hoped for.

"That's more than the Bahama Bay would have paid you. We can get by on that. Plus you just got started. I'm sure you will get more hours over time," she said enthusiastically.

Rob wasn't as hopeful as Ellen. "I am sure we can get by... But we need to get ahead. The baby is coming in less than six weeks."

Ellen rubbed his shoulders. "Speaking of the baby... We really to need to settle on a name. I was thinking..."

Ellen and Rob went over names and made a list. In the end they didn't feel certain about any of the options. The few they had on the list were favorites of neither of them.

Over the next few weeks, Rob was able to work more hours. Pushing his check up to over a thousand. He felt better, but after paying the bills, it left them with little more than two hundred a week for all other expenses. He knew raising the baby on this level of pay was not what he hoped for their future.

The only good side of his semi-erratic work schedule was the lengthy time off. Since he started working at the catering job, he had at least four days a week dedicated to writing. As the days passed by, he settled into a schedule. He woke at the same time everyday, either going to work, or working on the book. Soon, Rob found he was moving along in the story faster than he anticipated.

As Ellen's due date drew nearer, her doctor visits became more frequent. Getting closer, she was being watched carefully. He previous emergency caused the doctor to pay close attention to her health.

Rob's catering job was paying the bills, but left little in the way of extras, let alone savings. Luckily the two kept the cost of living down by eating simple Pho, staying home and avoiding any frivolous expenses. Nevertheless, Rob was worried about their income. The baby would bring many extra and unexpected costs.

Sprawled back in the big recliner, Rob sat writing on the laptop as Ellen casually flipped through the channels watching TV. Pausing on the local news, Rob looked up when he heard the reporter.

"Now, bringing you more on the intriguing story of the once popular hot spot on the downtown riverfront, The Good Ship Cincinnati. This morning, Hamilton County prosecutors have announced they have increased their efforts to find the previous owner of the restaurant, George Achmed."

Flashing a photo of George on the screen, Rob stopped typing and watched.

"Mr. Achmed has been listed on Interpol as an international fugitive from justice for several weeks, yet no word of his whereabouts has been confirmed. Earlier today, local authorities have announced they are offering a ten thousand dollar reward for any information leading to the whereabouts and capture of Achmed."

Rob laughed out loud. "Right, ten grand. George will pay triple that to keep people silent. These guys don't know who they are dealing with," he said as Ellen sat beside him.

The reporter continued. "Achmed's alleged accomplice, Charley Peyton is being held at the River City Correctional Facility on a one million dollar bond. Her attorney filed a motion to lower her bond earlier this week, but it was denied early this morning."

Ellen scowled as the news flashed a photo of Charley in her orange coveralls.

"I feel sorry for her. She is far from a nice person, but she isn't dangerous. I don't see why they keep her locked up on such a high bond."

Rob shrugged. "They need her for their case. If she runs off, what will they have on George then? Besides, we have no idea what she did, or what she knows."

Ellen looked at Rob in worry as the story continued with a live shot of Cranley outside the courthouse.

Standing on the stairs with a cocky smile, he spoke to the reporter. "We have concrete evidence and a key witness. I feel confident we have what we need to convict the perpetuators in this multi-million dollar crime. I look forward to the trial. We are making every effort to ensure we put Mr. Achmed and Ms. Peyton behind bars for many years. That's all I can say at this time."

Rob knew that the "concrete evidence" was the reports and the "key witness" was himself, and no doubt Ellen as well. He was beginning to truly worry about the whole affair again. After all, the only testimony he could offer was the reports. He saw nothing more, and discovered even less before the Ship was sold. Nonetheless, he felt dread welling up in him as the report went on.

The reporter concluded. "We will keep you updated on this story as the facts come in. If you have any information on the whereabouts of..."

Ignoring the horrible reminder the news report brought back, Rob went on writing, blocking The Ship and its tale of woe out of his mind altogether.

"Do you work tomorrow?" Ellen asked.

Rob looked up from the computer. "Thursday," he said as started writing again.

"Tomorrow is Wednesday," she said. "I have to go back to the doctor at one. I'm glad you're off, so I can take the van?"

Rob smiled. "It's your van too. Of course you can take it whenever you want."

She wanted to discuss her upcoming due date but realized he was deep in thought and left him alone to write.

Rob was typing fast when his phone rang. Aggravated at the interruption, he stopped writing and looked at the phone. The caller ID simply read: "Unknown Caller." Answering, Rob's "Hello?" was more of a question than an answer. His nerves shot up his spine as he heard a familiar voice.

"Anderson. Will you please step outside for a moment?"

He knew that voice. It was The Unknown Caller. Jumping up off the recliner, he looked out the window. A black Mercedes was sitting on the curb, just down the block from their apartment.

Rob hung up the phone without another word.

"The god damn Caller is outside our apartment!" Rob yelled to Ellen.

"What! He's here?" she nearly shouted with panic in her voice. "Why?" she asked, running to the living room.

"I don't know what he wants, but I am going to find out," Rob replied.

Rushing out the door, he skipped down the stairs. Ellen rushed to stop him.

"Wait! Rob no! Don't go..." But it was tool late.

The passenger window rolled down on the Mercedes. Rob peeked in the window.

"Have a seat Rob, so we can talk," The Caller said casually.

Opening the door, Rob slid into the leather seat.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked with a furious tone.

"Calm down Anderson. I'm not here to cause you harm. By the way, congratulations, I see that you and Ellen are going to have a baby."

Rob shot him a cold stare. "How do you know that? And why would you care?"

The Caller sat silent. Reaching in a briefcase, he pulled out an envelope, handing it to Rob. Sliding the contents out, Rob sat in shock, slowly thumbing through big glossy photos of Ellen at the doctor's office, at work and at the apartment. Looking at the others, he found photos of himself at his new job. There were even shots of people outside the bookstore at the wedding reception. Shooting an angry glance at The Caller, Rob was obviously shaken.

With a friendly gesture, The Caller tried to calm Rob's raging emotions. "Look, don't jump to anger. Try to understand. George is not happy with this witness business on the news. He has an assumption that one of you printed a very large file off the computer before the Ship was sold. He also assumes the prosecutor's 'Key Witness' must either be you, Ellen, or both. These photos of your meeting with the prosecutor confirmed that notion."

The Caller slid out two photos of Karl's office entrance. Glancing over, Rob saw images of both himself and the prosecutor walking in to the same office. The Caller started to speak.

"George is..."

Rob interrupted.

"I had criminal charges for a stupid fight at The Pub. Did you snoop deep enough to know that? I went to jail and lost my job over that. I had to get Karl as my lawyer. He was..."

With an angry sigh, he tossed the photos aside.

"Look, my point is that Ellen has nothing to with this. I swear if you come near her I will kill you where you stand."

The Caller resumed where he had been interrupted. "George is aware of all the details. The fact is he wants to make certain neither you nor Ellen even consider testifying in court. I am here to tell you that if you do... Well, I think you can figure that out for yourself"

True fear paralyzed Rob in his seat. The very threat he feared for so long had just become real. Knowing it was too big of a battle to fight, he slumped his head in despair. The Caller could see his words had caused Rob a terrible crash. Pausing, he spoke again with a calming tone.

"Look Rob, I would hate to see anything happen to either of you over this nonsense. You're a good man, and you have a good wife. Ellen and the baby, the new apartment, your new job... You have a lot to lose. But George doesn't like to lose. He's a complicated man. He's rich, ruthless, and yet strangely compassionate at the same time. He certainly has a concern for you two; otherwise we wouldn't be sitting here talking. If he wanted either of you out of the way, you would already be out of the way. Make no mistake; George is a man very few would cross. For his own reasons, he wishes you no harm, nor do I... but then again if you were to betray him and testify..."

Rob's fury overpowered his fear. Feeling hot rage building, he turned his angry eyes onto The Caller. Pointing to his face, he spoke with a solemn tone.

"I have nothing to testify too. I don't care about the trial. So, stay the fuck away from me and Ellen, or so help me God, I swear..."

The Caller smiled at him with a breathless stare from his black eyes.

"Do you really think your threats will make any difference? Even if you shot me dead here and now, another professional would take my place tomorrow. Not to mention, my death would up the stakes as well as George's actions. There is no way for you to win this. I hope you take my advice. Don't even consider walking into that courtroom, for your sake, Ellen's sake and the baby's. You must trust me Rob. There is too much on the line here, more than you know. It is unfortunate you have caught up in this so deeply, nevertheless..."

Rob knew he was speaking the truth. George had international connections in the underworld. He had no trouble finding Rob in Vietnam, nor getting Maria a very authentic looking passport halfway around the world in the middle of the night. If he wanted, he could have them both killed with a snap of his fingers.

Slumping his head with a sigh, Rob felt the dread sink in again.

"But I don't even know anything. I was the damn cook. I was just telling Ellen that before you called. What am I supposed to do? What difference to George does it make if I tell them in court I don't know anything? I can't just refuse to testify if they call me in."

The Caller nodded. "I understand that. That's why I am here to offer you another way."

Rob looked puzzled. "What way?"

The Caller handed him an envelope. Inside Rob found two tickets to France, and a thick stack of cash.

"Rent money for your apartment while you're away," he said as Rob's eyes widened. "You have round trip tickets, first class of course. Accommodations at a five star hotel will be arranged, as well as transportation and spending money. France has free healthcare, the baby will be born there. You two will leave for the next few months on a pleasant vacation until this all goes away... All courtesy of George. These are his wishes and he..."

Rob cut him off. "We can't just up and leave to France! We have a baby on the way, and new jobs..."

Shaking his head, The Caller waved his hand. "It is George's wish that you take the money and get on the plane immediately. If you value your future, your child's future, you will take the trip. I am simply here to make you the offer and relay your response. It is not negotiable. If your refuse and you plan to testify, I assure you... One way or another, neither of you will ever see the inside of a courtroom."

Silence fell in the car as Rob looked at the tickets. The Caller spoke up with a genuinely considerate tone.

"In this business, it is a rare thing to be offered such kindness. You are very fortunate George doesn't want to see you harmed. I've seen many others that were not so lucky. There is no reason to feel such despair. I would think you would welcome a first class honeymoon in France, all expenses paid no less. I'm sure Ellen would truly enjoy it as well."

Rob looked at the stack of crisp hundred dollar bills and the tickets as his stomach churned. The Caller noticed his face turn pale.

"Look Rob, relax, I can tell you this from my own experience. I have known George many decades; he must truly like you two. Otherwise he wouldn't be making such an expensive and generous offer. It would be much cheaper to simply end all this with a couple of fifty-cent bullets... In all the years, I have never seen him extend such consideration to someone as threatening to him as yourself and Ellen. Trust me Rob, take the offer and go. Life is short, go see France and relax with your new bride. Life will go on, your family will go on. And with a wonderful experience to remember."

Rob sat in silence. Taking the envelope, he stepped out onto the curb. The Caller looked over to the open door.

"I hope for your sake you accept the offer Rob. It's the last chance you will have to keep your family safe."

After Rob clicked the door closed, the car sped away into traffic. As he watched it disappear, his nerves came undone. With his hands trembling, his legs weakened as he walked slowly back up the steel stairs.

Ellen had been watching from the window, ready to call 911 with the phone in her hand. As Rob walked in, she ran to see what had happened. Rob walked past her in silence to the bedroom, collapsing on the bed face down into the pillow. Ellen rushed in behind.

"What did he say? What's going on Rob, you are scaring me!"

Rob let the money and tickets fall from his hand to the floor. Ellen picked them up.

"He gave you this? Why?" Ellen asked.

Taking the tickets, she read the destination.

"France? What is all this money? What happened Rob? Tell me now!"

Rob groaned into his pillow.

"George is going to kill us if we try to testify. He says we need to leave for France on some high dollar vacation until the trial is over."

Ellen began to cry as she sat on the bed.

"Everything was going fine. We just got married, I am so happy now. I love our new apartment and we just got all this great furniture. The baby is doing well. You have a new job... I thought we were finally going to be happy for once. Now, everything is crashing down around us again. I just can't take it anymore."

She fell back on the mattress beside Rob sobbing. Normally he would rush to console her tears, this time he was too numb to move.

Ellen lay sobbing for nearly an hour. Suddenly she shot up.

"I'm calling the cops. We can get protection or something. We can show them the money and the tickets. They will help us."

Rob grabbed her arm. "No Ellen! Don't you dare do that. George is no one to play around with. He's been watching us all along. The Caller had all kinds of photos of us. He knows everything, that I met with the prosecutor, our wedding, your job, doctor visits, my new job, everything. He could have, and still could kill us in a split second. Just settle down, we will make a plan, but right now I just have to put all of this out of my mind, and you had better do the same."

Rising slowly off the bed, walking to the kitchen, he took a bottle of tequila out of the freezer. Pouring several inches into a pint glass, he sipped the blue agave until his focus blurred and his mind calmed.

Ellen grew worried as she watched Rob become more and more under the influence of the cactus nectar.

"So what's the plan? Get drunk and forget about it all?" she asked, nearly in tears.

Rob looked up with a lazy shrug. "Nope. This is a legal problem. So... I'm going to call Karl. See what he says. Maybe he has an answer. Leave the legal to the lawyer, that's what I always say."

Ellen scowled. "What? 'You always say' You never had a lawyer before. How is he going to help anyway?"

Rob shrugged with hopelessness. "I'm just a cook Ellen. You are a server. George is an international criminal, a rich criminal. He came to Cincinnati from who knows where, breezed in, and sailed away in the night a few months later with millions. Cops all over the world can't find him now. This whole deal is out of our league. Karl will have the best advice of anyone I can think of. He won't tell the cops, so all things considered... He is our best hope. Lets forget all this dread for tonight."

Ellen felt unnerved at Rob's response at first. But after a few minutes of consideration she realized even his drunk state, Rob was likely right. The lawyer may have the best advice after all. She hoped he could convince Rob to tell the police.

Clicking the computer to life, Rob began typing. Allowing the amber fluid to guide the current of his mind as he clicked the keys. Ellen sat silent in nervous anxiety on the leather sofa.

Their lives had taken a sudden and unexpected turn once again. This time there seemed no way out. She wondered if they should just take the trip and save themselves the risk of certain retribution. Counting the cash from envelope she was shocked to find there was ten thousand dollars inside.

The cash gave her zero comfort. In fact, even having it in their possession caused her more stress. Holding the crisp new money, she thought to herself. "If he is willing to spend this much on us, what would he do if we don't go along?"

Suddenly the stack of money seemed as if a curse. A reminder of just how high the stakes were in this deadly dance they were caught up in. She tossed it on the table with a fast fling, as if it were poisonous to the touch. Staring at the banded stack of bills, she gathered it up with the tickets, stuffing them into a drawer. The very sight of it was too distressing to even look at any longer. She decided to follow Rob's advice and forget the whole affair until tomorrow. Sinking in her covers, Ellen clutched her pillow tight, trying to sleep with her eyes closed, but still nervously wide-awake, and afraid.
Chapter 9

Sleeping until nearly noon. Rob felt the pain from the bottle he consumed the night before. He rose and found Ellen had left a note about her doctor's appointment. Stirring in the kitchen, he made coffee and switched on the TV to check the weather. The TV was still on the same channel from the night before. It came to life with the mid-day news in the middle of a report.

"...This update of the ongoing story of The Good Ship restaurant scandal. The former Good Ship Cincinnati manager, Charley Peyton, was released from the River City Correctional Facility last night, hours after her bond was paid. Prosecutors say, shortly after Ms. Peyton was released, she violated her bond conditions by leaving the state aboard a private charted flight."

Rob nearly dropped his coffee as he stared at the screen. Thumbing the remote, he raised the volume.

"Ms. Peyton was identified by a Lunken Airport employee as the passenger who boarded a private Leer jet just after eight o'clock this morning. The plane's flight plan was scheduled for a round trip to Columbus Ohio. Ms. Peyton's bond conditions require her to remain in the state, however, the flight plan's Ohio destination allowed her to board legally. Local authorities have now confirmed with the FAA that after refueling in Columbus, her plane departed and left US airspace over the Atlantic Ocean shortly after 11:30. The pilot was unable to be reached after repeated attempts from area air traffic controllers. Since leaving US airspace, the plane mysteriously dropped out of radar contact. Based on their last known heading, and the maximum distance the plane can travel, it is believed the flight is headed to Southern Europe, although the true destination remains a mystery."

The report switched to a live news reporter standing beside John Cranley in the courthouse lobby.

"Mr. Cranley, what can you tell us about Ms. Peyton's whereabouts? Do you have any idea where her flight is headed?"

Cranley stood tall and confident as the cameras flashed around him.

"Around noon today Ms. Peyton was officially registered an international fugitive from justice with Interpol and the European Union. As of now, we do not know exactly where her plane is headed. However, we have authorities on alert at every airport that her flight could reach. We have been assured the moment they land, police will be standing by to apprehend her, as well as the pilot of the craft."

Rob couldn't believe his ears. He knew exactly what had happened. George had paid her bond and arranged for her escape. He had bought her, just as he tried to do last night to Rob. Charley sold her entire future for a sack of cash, sentencing herself to a life as an international fugitive.

Rob shook his head at Cranley's confident persona on the screen.

"You guys will never find her! She is probably being handed a new passport and identity by some stranger on a dirt runway at this very moment."

Rob knew all too well how easy this was for George. Maria herself had been given just such a new life by George's contacts, with much less notice no less. Rob sipped his coffee as he watched Cranley issue his claims and intentions to the reporters, knowing all the while they would likely never see her again.

Rob laughed as heard Cranley finish speaking.

"We are working directly with authorities. Wherever she lands, we have total confidence she will be apprehended shortly."

He laughed again as he sat back in his seat.

"Yeah right. That bitch is gone! Erased from the system with a perfectly legitimate looking little blue book giving her a new name."

He listened as the live reporter switched back to the news desk.

"Wow what a shocking turn of events in this intriguing story. It seems the mystery surrounding the once popular hot spot is continuing to grow even deeper. We will bring you more up to minute news of this story as the events unfold. Now, a local downtown business man has announced he will file suit against the city of Cincinnati surrounding the decision of a Hamilton County judge yesterday..."

Rob clicked the TV off, tossing the remote on the table.

Ellen walked in through the door as Rob stood in the kitchen.

"Hey! Surprised to see you up. Are you feeling okay after last night?"

He tried to laugh.

"Charley is gone."

Ellen sat her purse on the table with a shocked look.

"Gone as in... Dead?" she asked, covering her hands over her mouth.

"No, gone as in, she got bailed out of jail and immediately flew to France or somewhere," he replied

Ellen sighed with relief.

Pointing to the television, Rob explained. "You just missed it. George paid her bond and flew her away on a private jet. It's all over the news. They think they are going to catch her when she lands. Fat chance of that, she will probably land in some jungle and be whisked away in the back of a truck by a motley crue of third world human smugglers. By this time tomorrow she will be on some sun drenched beach sipping a drink while getting a foot massage with that smug satisfied look on her face she is so famous for."

Ellen stood dead still, barely listening as she considered the severity of the news.

"George is really serious about this trial. He's not going to leave us alone is he?"

Rob poured another cup of coffee as he shook his head slowly.

"Nope. He follows through to the end, I will give him that."

Ellen slumped onto the sofa. After a few silent minutes, she burst out screaming, causing Rob to nearly spill his coffee.

"We're screwed Rob! There is no way out!"

Hanging her head in her hands, she sobbed uncontrollably.

Rob moved close beside her, rubbing her back with his warm hand.

"Don't freak out Ellen. We've been through worse. Think about Vietnam. It was less than year ago we were fleeing for our lives from a viscous drug cartel with bullets flying all around us. We made it through that. We will make it through this too. Maybe we should take the trip and do what he says. We do have the cash now to pay rent for a year. Our life will still be here when we get back. It's not like we are losing some great opportunity here or anything. Plus, Karl has still not called me back. I phoned him when I woke up but he has not called back yet."

Ellen felt sick suddenly. Dizzy, she slumped flat onto the sofa.

"So we leave America?" she asked with a sniffle. "A fugitive just like Charley. Raise our baby on the run in places we can't even speak the language. And when the whole legal deal is over for George. He abandons us, broke and alone in some strange forgotten foreign land."

Rob hugged her tightly as she sobbed again.

"We won't be fugitives. We are not charged with anything and we are not going to be. We are free people, we can go on vacation if we like. This is still America. Consider it a Honeymoon. We do have the ten grand in cash. Plus The Caller said it was all expenses paid, a five star hotel and everything."

Ellen wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

"I like our life just like it is. I was so happy here with you and our home... and the baby coming... and now we have to just throw it all away to just because of George."

Falling onto his lap with a burst of tears, she sobbed uncontrollably. Rob felt tears welling in own eyes as he held her tight. He knew their future was uncertain and far from hopeful. But he also knew he was powerless to change it. George was more formidable than anything he could ever fight. Now, with Charley out of the court's reach, he and Ellen were the only two loose ends to be tied up. The realization of that worried him to his very core. The reality of his situation was too confounding to grasp.

The day had slipped by, the sun set into the river. Still no call from Karl. Rob stirred a pot of Pho as he wondered if he would really have to suddenly flee America with Ellen and his unborn baby like some panicked fugitive with the FBI fast on his heels. His nervous fingers shakily set the spoon on the counter when he heard his phone ring.

"Hello" Rob answered as he rinsed the colander of noodles in the sink.

"Rob, Karl here. I got your message. I was tied in court until now. My phone has been melting with calls from the prosecutor's office all day. We need to meet at my office tomorrow morning first thing, say eight am?"

Rob agreed. Karl mentioned one more detail before he hung up. "Great. I will see you at my office then... and Rob, please bring Ellen along if you would."

Rob tried to ask why but realized the call was disconnected.

"That was Karl," Rob said, shutting off the burner on the stove. "He says we have to meet at his office tomorrow morning."

Ellen shot up from her seat. "Maybe he has good news!" she said with wide eyes.

"I doubt it. He has no idea who he is dealing with, none of them do," Rob replied.

Ellen looked at Rob with a hopeful expression. "Let's just see what he says. Maybe it will be good news after all."

Rob smiled at Ellen's naive hopefulness. It was one of the things they were very different in regards to. He wished he could be as hopeful as her, but knew he could never be.

They tried to ignore their fear and spend the day occupied with the usual tasks. But as the day turned to night, the disturbing thoughts returned. As they slipped into bed for the night, not a word was spoken. After hours of tossing and turning, they finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

Waking in the morning, both Rob and Ellen woke still tired from the restless night in their bed. Dressing quickly, they drove to Karl's office, arriving early.

Walking in the law office lobby, the secretary smiled when she saw them.

"Mr. Anderson." she said politely. "This must be Mrs. Anderson..."

Shaking Ellen's hand, she showed them into the office where Karl was waiting behind his big desk. Karl greeted them and leaned back in his leather chair.

"Good morning. Have you seen the news on Ms. Peyton?" he asked.

Rob looked at Ellen then nodded. "Yep. I saw it on the news... She flew off, who knows where."

Karl looked nervous, pausing in silence for a few seconds.

"I have information that was not released to the news reporters. Charley was flown to a small private airport in France. The plane refueled with no one departing. From there it flew east and lost radar contact again. Two hours ago the plane was located at an abandoned airport in the Middle East. Peyton and the pilot has since disappeared, dropped out of sight altogether."

Rob shrugged. "I figured that would happen. These people can't keep up with George, he has underworld resources or whatever."

Karl leaned up to his desk. "I need to ask you both a question... Have you been contacted by George or his people recently?"

Ellen gripped Rob's arm as he asked them the question.

"Why, what's the deal," Rob asked.

Karl held waved his hands, palms up with a sigh.

"Well, the prosecutor is in a panic fit. Ms. Peyton was very important to his case. He expressed serious concerns about keeping tabs on his remaining witnesses now. With Ms. Peyton having been obviously whisked away from custody, he is concerned about you two."

Rob scowled as he interrupted.

"He is not concerned about us, only his case. We are free citizens. We can go wherever we want... Am I correct about that? This is still America right?"

Karl shrugged. "You are and it is. However, you signed a deal guaranteeing your testimony at the trial. That deal awarded you freedom from those serious felony charges, remember?"

Rob sighed. "I remember."

Ellen spoke up. "We are not going to sit around and get hurt over all this Ship business! I have a baby on the way and I plan to raise her with both of her parents intact."

Rob squeezed her hand in a gesture to quiet her.

Karl looked at her with concerned eyes. "Have you been threatened?"

Rob waved him off. "Look, until the hearing, we are as free as anyone else. I'm not about to explain our lives to that asshole Cranley."

Karl relaxed his stare and leaned back again. "Let's just relax the mood here. I am not trying to pry to cause you harm. I need to protect you as my client. I am concerned about you, not Mr. Cranley's case. However, Mr. Cranley has expressed to me certain circumstances that would lead me to believe you and your lives may be in danger."

Rob sprang up from his seat. "What are you taking about? Please, just spell it out and explain what you're getting at."

Karl opened his drawer. Pulling out a manila envelope, he took a stack of photos out and laid them out for Rob to see.

Rob took the stack and thumbed through the photos on his lap with Ellen. One after another, they looked at snap shots of Rob and Ellen. Some at the doctor's office, others at the bus station, some from the wedding, others still at home through the big front windows. Rob was familiar with the shots; they were the same as the ones the Caller showed him.

Ellen looked up at Karl nearly tearing. "What does this mean? Where did you get these?"

Karl leaned back in the chair. "Mr. Cranley took those from a cell phone in the possession of the man who escorted Ms. Peyton to her plane from jail. Have you ever seen this man before?"

Karl handed them a grainy out of focus photo of man in a hooded jacket. Ellen couldn't hide her surprise. Rob leaned towards her. He looked at the photo and knew who it was in a glance... It was The Caller.

"I've seen him. But I don't know his name," Rob said.

Karl leaned forward with intense eyes. "Neither do the police, nor the FBI. It seems neither his photo nor his fingerprints match with any known person alive or dead, in any criminal database. FBI agents extracted those photos from his phone. They tracked him down and were about to make an arrest when he escaped them. In his haste to escape, he dropped his phone. This doesn't look good for you two to me Rob."

Rob sat silent holding Ellen's shaking hand. Karl spoke serious and deliberate now. "Whoever this man is, he is considered extremely dangerous Rob. The mere fact that he had photos of you both is cause for serious concern."

Staring at the photos, Ellen began to cry. Holding her close, Rob looked up at Karl. "So what do we do now?" he asked.

Karl leaned back again. "Well, you only have two choices. Option A: Allow the FBI to take you both into protective custody today. Keep you safe until the trial..."

Rob interrupted. "What's option B?"

Karl shrugged with his eyebrows raised high. "Option B: Take you chances at home and hope you live to see the trial."

Hearing Ellen sob louder, Rob slumped in his seat. Karl paused. Solemnly, he spoke again.

"If that were my wife in those photos, I would seek the safety of the FBI immediately."

Rob shook his head in his hands, speaking with his head still hung.

"The same FBI that didn't catch George and probably never will?" he asked, looking up. "The same FBI that couldn't stop Charley from flying away right under their nose? The same FBI that tried to catch this guy but couldn't? That FBI?" Rob asked again.

Karl held his hand out. "Well, things don't always go the way we would hope. Ms. Peyton's bond was very high in an effort to keep her from escaping custody. This organization is obviously well trained and well funded. The authorities have been playing a losing game of catch-up in this matter so far; I'll give you that. But they can keep you safe from harm if you act now."

Ellen couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. Rob knew the stress was more than she could bear. His body filled with burning rage. Calming himself before speaking, he took a deep breath and squeezed Ellen's trembling hand.

"I would gladly go to the FBI right now," he replied. "But I am telling you... I have zero faith in them. George's guys... They don't lose. If we are that important to them, they will find us, someday if not today. After the trial is over, Cranley and the FBI will go back to work on another case. But we will be chucked back into the public. If we help the prosecutor and George goes to jail, we will be in even more danger than than we are now. So I am not doing it."

Karl crossed his hands on his desk. "So what is your Option C?"

Rob shrugged. "Ellen shouldn't deal with stress like this while she is pregnant. I think we need a vacation, somewhere far away. Is that illegal?"

Karl tapped his fingers on the desk. "I am obligated to protect your interests, and defend your actions to the court should either of you not appear in a judicial function. Charges could still be filed, assuming you do not appear after a formal subpoena has been issued."

"What kind of charges?" Rob asked.

"Contempt of court, obstruction of justice," Karl replied.

"That doesn't sound too serious," Rob said.

Karl shrugged. "It could be. Perhaps six months in jail and a steep fine on both charges."

Rob pondered the problem. "But if neither Ellen or I have not been served a subpoena before we leave, what then?"

Karl sat back up to his desk. "Then you are under no obligation to the court until that subpoena is served."

Rob took that to mean they could leave if they so chose, as long as they did it before Cranley issued a subpoena. It was all he needed to hear. Rising from his seat, taking Ellen's hand, Rob helped her up off the chair.

"I like you Karl," Rob said. "I really do. I trust you too. But this situation is more complicated than you or Cranley, or any of us is aware of. George can be ruthless, this is true. But he has another side. For whatever reason, murder is not his preferred solution to this problem. I'm not going into details, but I know him better than Cranley does. I think we will be safer on our own."

With a frustrated sigh, Karl stood up and walked them to the door.

"I hope you're instincts are right Rob. You are betting with three lives here. I would hate to be in your shoes."

Rob laughed. "I'm just a cook. But I am an honest person, and I mean him no harm. George knows that. What else can I do?"

Karl shook his hand as they left the office. "I'm here to help if I can. Good luck to you two, call if you need anything, or change your mind."

Sliding into the van's seats, Ellen looked at Rob. She had stopped crying but was still shaken.

"What now?" Ellen asked.

"I guess we go see how good French food really is," Rob replied.

Ellen's thoughts were a blur of emotions. "You really want to leave and go with George's plan?"

"What choice do we have? Besides it could turn out to be a good thing. Do you have any idea how bad I have always wanted go to France and taste the food of the master's kitchens? It's every American chef's dream. France, Spain, China, the Middle East... I only hope I live to taste it all. Didn't you say how much you wished you could have seen France on your layover?"

Ellen lowered her head in despair. "So we are going then?"

Rob shook his head. "Not just yet. First I have a plan of my own."

Ellen crossed her arms in a huff. "Then spit it out Rob! I need some answers here."

Rob drove home through the city streets as he detailed his plan.

"The Caller is on the run. Karl told us that. With Charley gone, he must still be here to watch us and only us. With the FBI looking for him, he needs a place to hide, but he will certainly be watching us close, and we have a spare room..."

Ellen shot him a hard look. "You're going to bring him to our house?"

Rob nodded. "I'm going to invite him yes."

Ellen's face looked as if she was in horror. "Why! Why would you do that? So he can kill us in our sleep?"

Rob laughed. "Ellen he could have, and still can, kill us at any time. If The Caller is with us at all times, George won't wonder what we are going to do. The FBI would never suspect he is at our house so The Caller will be safe. He's safe, and knows exactly what we are doing, therefore we won't have to worry."

Ellen shook her head. "I don't like this at all Rob. He's a killer, sleeping in our house."

Rob changed his tone. "So is Maria. But we trust her. It's a long shot anyway. He may not even come at all. But at least George might get the message we are not trying to hide from him, or testify."

Ellen agreed to go along. "Fine, but how are you going to even find him? The FBI can't even find him."

Rob shrugged. "He is watching us so we won't have to find him."
Chapter 10

At the apartment, Rob looked up and down the street at the cars. It reminded him of watching for the black Fiat in Vietnam. Seeing nothing, he walked up the stairs. Inside, he took a sheet of paper, writing a message on it.

"I'm going to put this note on the stoop at the book store. Maybe The Caller will see it."

Taking the note downstairs, he taped it to the vacant store's window. Looking up and down block, he motioned at the note and waved at the street. Going back up to the apartment, he felt hopeful they would make contact soon.

Rob cooked lunch as Ellen sat on the sofa watching TV. Even though the scene looked totally serene in the apartment, anxiety was still running high in their minds.

The day slipped away into evening as the sun shot long streams of orange light across the clouds. Rob sat writing with an intense focus. Ellen took her mind off the events by starting a hand painted border in the baby's room. Rob stepped to the kitchen to get a drink when he noticed a man peering in the front door window.

The sight jolted him with a scare. Looking closer, he saw it was The Caller. Waving to him, Rob walked over to unlock the knob.

"Don't you know how to knock?" he asked, opening the door to allow The Caller inside.

The Caller said nothing as he went to the big windows and watched for several minutes in silence. Turning to Rob, he pointed to the sofa.

"Have a seat."

Rob sat down in the recliner sipping his drink.

"I invited you here remember."

The Caller nodded with a smile.

"Of course. I am in your home. I will respect that. But I am concerned Rob. I know you met with your attorney again today."

Rob nodded. "We did. Cranley gave him the photos you have of us. He says the FBI took them off your phone. He wanted us to go into FBI protection until the trial."

The Caller raised his eyebrows.

"Relax," Rob said. "We are not going. And hopefully, we won't have to just stop our lives and run off to France either."

The Caller looked interested. "So what are your intentions in inviting me here?"

Rob leaned closer. "Look, I don't care about the trial. That Cranley is a son of bitch. He tried to screw my friend Miguel and me on some bullshit charges that would have landed us in prison for years. He can fight his own battles without my help. I'm not trying to help him or George. In fact, I think Cranley is real piece of shit, and a liar. I can't stand him."

The Caller rose and looked back out the window again.

"So what are your intentions inviting me here Rob?"

Rob moved nearer to him. "Like I said, we don't know anything. With Charley and George out of the US, how can there even be a trial? If you stay here until this thing is over, you will know that we are not co-operating with the cops, so we will be safe. The FBI is still looking for you. You can stay safe here and make your plans. We will give you food and drink. You never have to step outside. After this is all over, you can leave us in peace to go on living as we were. Everyone is happy."

The Caller smiled as he sat back on the sofa.

"Not a bad move for a simple cook to come up with I must admit."

Rob set his drink down. "So, do we have a deal? You stay here safe & sound and we live our lives as usual."

The Caller pondered the look in Rob's eyes.

"Then again, if I stay here, you could leave and send the police after me. But... I have come to find you an honest man Anderson. You are not of my world, merely an unfortunate civilian caught up in a dangerous professional game. I will trust you to your word... unless I see..."

Rob waved him off. "Yeah yeah, I know... unless you see me trying to screw you and then you will cut our heads off and stick them on a pike. I've heard the threat before."

The Caller smiled. "You're a brave cook Anderson, I will give you that. I must make a call, perhaps George will consider your proposition."

Rob shrugged. "I heard you lost your phone."

The Caller pulled another from his pocket.

"There was nothing on that phone they can use to find me, or George. I am prepared for any problem. This is my profession Rob."

Rob got up from his seat and went back to his computer.

"I am going to go back to my book now. Feel free to make all the calls you like. I'm going to keep writing and Ellen is busy in the other room. There is food on the stove and drinks in the fridge. Make yourself at home."

Rob walked back to the table and started writing again as The Caller slipped away into the bathroom with his phone in hand.

As he tried to focus on writing, Rob began to worry about leaving Ellen alone while he was at work. Picking up his phone, he called Miguel. After a brief conversation he hung up and resumed his work, relieved. The Caller returned after a few minutes.

After scanning the street once more, he sat on the sofa. He seemed content with Rob's plan. Rob looked over as he paused his typing.

"Maria will be here tonight. You remember Maria right?" Rob asked.

The Caller nodded. "Indeed I do."

As he typed, Rob explained. "She will watch over Ellen when I am at work."

The Caller smiled. "She is quite a brave and capable fighter. An excellent choice for you to choose as a guard to be certain."

Stopping his keystrokes, Rob looked up. "Well, she is Ellen's sister and we can trust her with our lives. The last time she was in a fight she sent five big guys to the hospital armed with only a pool stick. This time, she will be better armed. I will feel safer with her here, no offense."

The Caller issued a single bow of his head. "None taken. I understand completely."

Rob nodded in return and went back to writing.

The Caller took Rob up on the offer of food and spooned out a bowl of Pho from the simmering pot on the stove. Rob noticed he made the motions of some type of prayer before he took his first taste.

"It's not poisoned or anything you know," Rob said with a laugh.

The Caller smiled as he sipped. "It was not a sign of distrust. Merely a nod to the Almighty in thanks for food."

Rob paused his keystrokes. "You're a religious person? Don't you think that's kind of ironic?"

The Caller paused his eating. "The path a man takes can be guided by many things. Some good, some evil. It is the tightrope of life that we all must walk. Many fall and become lost, as I have. But the Almighty is still there to guide even the fallen. I believe this, and I give thanks when thanks are due. Despite my path in life, I still honor my god, and pray for his forgiveness."

Rob smiled as typed. "More power to you brother. I don't see it that way, but if you do, I respect that."

The Caller looked puzzled as he sipped the Pho. "I don't understand Americans."

Rob laughed. "That's because there is no uniformity to Americans to understand. We are all different in so many ways. Race, religion, beliefs, it goes on and on. Look at our government. Even they never agree on anything. We are not a single dish to be dissected. We are an ever-changing pot of chili, a mixture of many things, many varieties all in one stewing pot. It's a miracle the whole country doesn't erupt into a massive chaotic breakdown on any given day. You can't understand us, because we don't understand us."

The Caller nodded. "I find wisdom in your words Anderson. My culture shares a single belief, as does my government. It is very different there. There are clear lines between right and wrong."

Rob shook his head. "If you say so. I can't see it, but then again I don't really care. If only our government would stop interfering with other countries then we wouldn't be involved with all the stupid shit we are."

The Caller paused, his spoon still in his hand.

"There is much more to our governments than most will ever know. War isn't about salvation for the oppressed or democracy. It's about money and power. Those who have the power, use it to make money. We are all pawns in their game whether we know it or not."

"You got that right! I think it's all a crock of shit," Rob replied.

The Caller went back to the Pho as Rob went on typing.

Ellen came into the room with her painting supplies. Seeing The Caller on the sofa, she nodded with slight smile but said nothing. Rinsing her paintbrush in the sink, she acted as if he wasn't even there. Rob looked over from his computer.

"Maria is coming over. She will stay here with you when I go to work."

Ellen felt relived as she dried the brush with a towel. "Good! I miss her."

Ellen disappeared into the bedroom without another word. Rob sat at the table writing. After some time passed, he went to the kitchen for another drink. The Caller sat by the big front windows.

"If I may ask... What are you working on so diligently Anderson?" he asked curiously.

"It's a book, a fiction novel," Rob replied.

"So you are a writer then?"

Rob shrugged. "I'm not a writer per say. Well, I have never written anything like this before anyway. Ellen suggested I write, so I did. Since then, it has turned into a full time passion."

The Caller sat sipping his Pho, staring through the glass.

"So what is the purpose of this book?"

"I haven't thought it through that far. It's just a hobby I suppose. I have some small hope it could help me in my career," Rob replied.

The Caller waved his hands. "People would be amazed at what they can accomplish if they really dedicate every effort. They key is total dedication. George's tremendous success is proof of that."

Rob agreed and went back to typing. He felt secure that the danger of being stalked and possibly killed had been temporarily sidestepped. The feeling was a form of relief, but the situation was really no better than before. Sooner or later, he had to deal with being called as a witness. For now, he felt safer with The Caller with them, rather than watching them unknowingly.

Maria knocked at the door. Walking in, she saw The Caller. Her eyes shot from his face to Ellen's, then Rob's.

"Hey Maria!" Ellen said with a huge smile.

Ellen took her down the hall to the baby's room. Rob followed them. Ellen shut the door and whispered to Maria.

"He's not here by his own doing. Rob invited him in to make sure George doesn't think we are testifying against him. It's a long story, but he will leave soon, we're just not sure what do next."

Maria opened her purse, showing them several throwing knives and an automatic pistol with extra loaded clips.

"Jose had this. I borrowed it," Maria said quietly.

Seeing the gun, Rob sighed with relief. He was confident Maria would keep Ellen safe at any cost. Even with the added protection of Maria, Rob still did not feel good about leaving Ellen for ten or twelve hours while he was at work.

Looking at his meager savings, he knew he had to work, or they were destined to have no food or rent very shortly. He left Ellen and Maria alone in the baby's room and took his seat at the table again. Sinking into the dilemma, his thoughts were too confused to focus on writing any longer.

Ellen came from the hall with a blanket and pillow. Tossing them onto the sofa, she looked at The Caller.

"I can offer you a bed in our baby's room, or you can sleep on the sofa. Here are covers and a pillow."

The Caller nodded with a slight bow of his head. "That is very kind. I am thankful for your hospitality."

Ellen feigned a smile as she walked away. She wasn't sure what to make of his attitude. He had saved their lives in Vietnam, but only to follow through on George's orders. She wouldn't have been able to escape with Rob, let alone Maria without his help. On some level, she felt indebted to him. But she knew he was simply working for George and felt nothing for her, Maria or Rob. Even still, she couldn't help but feel a kind of strange alliance with him nonetheless.

As the evening grew later, the apartment had settled into quite candlelight. Ellen and Maria were in the bedroom working on the border. Rob was at the table writing when The Caller's phone buzzed on the coffee table. Snatching it up, he disappeared into the bathroom. Rob wondered if it was George as he waited for him to reappear.

Rob didn't have to wait long. In moments, The Caller came back out to the dining room, sitting next to Rob. Rob looked up from the laptop as he sat down.

"I have good news for you Anderson."

Pausing his writing, Rob's eyes locked onto The Caller's as he spoke.

"George has Charley safe and sound where she can never be discovered. She was his primary concern. He has been quite stricken by your refusal to seek protection from the FBI as well as your invitation to house me here safely. So, he has decided to offer you a way to avoid more hassles with this unfortunate affair."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "Okay... And how is that?" he asked with a serious look.

"In the morning, you and Ellen will give a deposition to this attorney."

The Caller scrawled a name and address on sheet of paper, pushing it over to Rob.

"You and Ellen both must give statements to this man. You will state that you were witness to nothing illegal and have no knowledge of any wrongdoing on The Ship. He will provide a copy of that deposition to your attorney and the prosecutor's office. I will oversee the process along the way. You will refuse to stray from that deposition if you are called to trial. All quite legal I assure you. This deposition will ensure you keep your end of the deal, otherwise..."

Rob shook his head. "Yeah I know the drill."

The Caller resumed. "Afterwards, you will have no worries of any harm coming to your family or yourself from George or myself. Assuming you agree to the plan."

Smiling, Rob agreed. "Hell yeah! Of course I agree. I don't even care about the stupid trial. That's what I keep telling everyone, but no one listens."

The Caller nodded slowly. "That is fortunate. However, you must remember... You will not testify that you ever witnessed George do anything illegal."

Rob stood up, shaking his hand. "That's easy, I never saw him do anything illegal anyway. So it's the truth."

"After the deposition, you will be free to live your lives as you see fit. George personally assures you, the matter will be closed if you hold to your word."

Rob was elated. The Caller took his jacket and pocketed his phone.

"It is an agreement then?"

Standing with a smile, Rob shook his hand. "You bet!"

"Very well. I feel George was impressed with your refusal to seek protection from the FBI. He is a complicated man, but sees people for who they really are very quickly. He must truly believe you are a man of your word."

Rob felt a wave of relief wash over him. He believed The Caller was telling the truth and agreed again.

"It sounds good to me. I want that damn case out of my life and we just to be left alone. We have a hard enough life without this shit complicating everything. I make just enough to get by. With a baby on the way soon, I need to focus every effort on my meager income."

The Caller stood ready to leave. "About that. George wishes to help you, in return for your co-operation. Fishing a stack of bills from his pocket, he laid two banded stacks of cash on the table.

Rob looked at the money with surprise. "What the hell is that about?"

The Caller smiled, pointing towards the cash. "You will never speak against George regarding your experiences on The Ship to anyone. For this, George offers a parting gift. Perhaps it's due to his fondness for you two, perhaps because you have a child on the way. I know he has longed for child for many years. I couldn't say for certain. All I know is that he wants you to have it. You may keep the other money as well, but the tickets I will need back."

Rob picked up the stacks of cash. "You mean we get to keep this plus the other ten grand?"

The Caller held his hands out from his sides. "Those were his instructions."

Rob couldn't believe his eyes as he thumbed the corners of the crisp bills. Taking the tickets from the drawer, he handed them to The Caller.

The Caller took three black Glock pistols from his pockets, chambering each one after another. Sliding them back into his pockets, he nodded a goodbye to Rob as he turned the doorknob. He was almost out the door when Rob spoke up suddenly.

"Hey wait!"

The Caller paused in the doorway, looking back at Rob over his shoulder.

"I suppose you realize the FBI is looking for you at this very moment."

The Caller nodded. "Indeed I do Anderson."

Rob paused not knowing what to say, or how to say it.

"Well, I just... I mean, I hope you manage to..."

The Caller smiled. "Are you trying to? 'Wish me luck' as you Americans say?"

Rob smiled in return with a nod.

"I appreciate the sentiment Anderson. But I do not believe in luck, I must take my fate in my own hands, and pray The Almighty will see me through to another day if he sees fit. But thank you just the same. I hope all goes well for you and your family as well. Perhaps your book will turn a new page in your life. Good luck Anderson, to you and your family."

With those words, he slipped away. Rob watched as he treaded down the steel stairs, turning to the back of the building. He stood watching from a rear window until he couldn't see The Caller any longer. Somehow, after all the worry and trouble, Rob hoped he would make it without getting caught.

Jogging from the window, Rob called down the hall to Ellen.

"Ellen! Maria! Come here quick!"

Maria sprang from the door, the pistol drawn in her hand. Rob saw it and waved her franticly with both arms.

"Jesus! Don't shoot! It's okay! It's okay Maria!"

She looked around the room then dropped the gun to her side.

Ellen came rushing to the hall, pausing halfway until she saw Rob and Maria at the table.

"What's going Rob? You scared me half to death."

Rob held up the money. "Look at this! It's twenty thousand dollars! And guess what?"

Ellen was too shocked to speak as she looked at the money.

"We get to keep the other ten we already have! A gift from George."

Ellen took the three stacks of banded bills from Rob's hand with wide eyes. Maria's eyebrows rose high on her head.

"So much money Rob," Maria said staring at the bills.

Rob smiled. "Yeah! And I know just what to do with it. Call Miguel. Tell him to come over right away."

A half hour later, Miguel knocked at the door, Rob looked through the window, seeing Miguel and Armando waiting outside with a box of beer. Opening the door, Rob's face stretched with a big smile.

"Amigo!" he said, hugging Miguel.

Patting Armando on the shoulders, Rob shook him. "Army! I have missed you!"

Miguel put the beer in the fridge, taking three out for Rob, Army and himself. They cracked open the cans as Rob gathered the cash. Holding it out, he showed it to them with a laughing smile.

"Look at this!" Rob said, waving the thick stacks of cash. "That's thirty grand."

Miguel's eyes went wide, Army's mouth opened with a "Whoa!"

Miguel took a drink from the beer. "That's a lot of money there amigo. Where did you get it?"

Rob waved him off. "Never mind that. The important thing is what I am going to do with it!"

Armando spoke up in a stutter. "We can, we can buy some serious smoke with that!"

Rob laughed. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but I think you will like my plan even better."

He waved them all out the door. Curious, Ellen and Maria followed. Outside, he took the key from mailbox to the bookstore. Opening the door, they all walked in behind him. Rob stood in the middle of the room and spun in a circle with arms outstretched.

"This is it!"

Miguel looked around and sipped his drink. "Eets where we had the wedding."

Rob shoved him with a laugh. "Yes, of course it is. And you know what else it is?"

They all looked at him with anxious eyes in silence as he stood staring at their curious faces.

"It's the perfect place for great cafe. A Mexican café. Our own place!"

Miguel looked around and smiled. "Hell yes eet ees!"

Rob slapped the cash against his palm. "And this is just enough to get it up and running. If we keep things really cheap."

Miguel nodded. "We are Mexican's man. We know everything about keeping things cheap amigo. Plus we have a little money saved too. We can use it to help get going."

Rob shook him with both hands. "We can pull this off. I just know it. We had such success at The Pub and it was just a few blocks from here. In no time we can get all our local customers back, and then some."

Ellen and Maria looked at one another in wonder. Walking around the room, she imagined the bookstore as a cafe.

"We have room for twenty or twenty five tables, not to mention the bar seating. Just like The Pub," Ellen said. "If we put five here and..."

She went around the main room counting the spaces with Maria, pointing to imaginary tables.

Miguel and Armando clicked on the light to the back room apartment. Rob pointed to the office.

"We can put a couple fridges back here... And the dry storage racks against this wall."

Sprinting to the kitchen Rob pointed to the old stove.

"We will put the range here since the gas line is already there. Against that wall we have room for fryers and a flat top..."

The cooks made their way around the space, pointing out ideas and arrangements for the future appliances with exuberant excitement.

Ellen walked up behind Rob and put her arms around his waist. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt a warming calm melt her nerves. Rob was more excited than he ever had been. In twenty-four hours his life rocked from low to high. Standing in the room, realizing this was really going to happen, he felt it was all like a dream he would wake from shortly.

The group returned upstairs to the apartment. Sitting in the living room, Van Morrison played on the speakers. Rob and Miguel drank their beer as Armando lit a thick joint. Ellen and Maria sat at the dining table, talking with excitement about the new cafe. A cool breeze blew through the room, waving the curtains softly. The summer night sky was warm. Candles burned their flickering light against the walls. The drinks and laughter went well into the late night hours.

Ellen made a bed in the baby's room for Maria and Miguel. She took the pillow and covers she had taken out for The Caller and gave them to Armando on the sofa.

"Goodnight guys," Ellen said as she smiled and slipped away down the hall.

Rob sat at the dining table as Maria and Miguel disappeared behind the baby's room door. Army lay in a stoned drunken bliss on the leather sofa, one arm hanging to the floor as he snored.

Rob knew tomorrow would be a big day. He planned to rent the bookstore, file for permits and start his search for equipment. Thumbing his phone, he called the catering company. Leaving a voicemail, he explained that he was moving on to a new venture and hoped he had caused no problems with his sudden departure and would still work the upcoming shifts if truly needed.

Hanging up the phone, he felt an even deeper sense of peace soak into his soul. Their home was filled with family and friends again. He had a direction to follow with the new cafe, plus the funds to finally make it happen.

The stars flickered through the window against the black night. Opening the laptop, his fingers clicked the keys with a flurry of words. His newfound peace had inspired him to continue his ongoing story with renewed ambition.
Chapter 11

The morning noise woke Rob from his deep sleep. Ellen was in the kitchen with Maria cooking breakfast. Miguel and Armando were on the sofa smoking a spliff in the morning sun. Getting ready for the day, Rob walked to the bathroom. After a fast shower, he dressed and prepared to leave for the depositions.

Standing behind Ellen, he rubbed her belly with both hands from behind.

"We have to go see George's lawyer right off. After we rent the bookstore, I am going to the permit office to file for our food license. Then we can start shopping for equipment and rehab supplies. After your breakfast, we need to go." He finished with a kiss on her ear.

Ellen turned her eggs with care. "I have some ideas on the color scheme. Remember those glazed terra-cotta pots Mamma had on the back porch? I'm thinking that would look great on the dining room walls. And the green in that old copper pot she had the flowers in would look great behind the bar."

Rob squeezed her tight as he laid his head on her shoulder. "The colors and decor is all you Elle'. I have total confidence in your choices."

Ellen placed the eggs on a platter and turned from Rob's embrace. "Let's eat!" she said taking the platter to the table.

Maria followed with more food and the group sat at the dining table, sharing, smiling, laughing and enjoying their enthusiasm on the new plan.

Rob finished with a slap on his belly. "That was awesome," he said as he stood up.

Taking his keys from the counter, he walked with Ellen to the van. Finding the address The Caller had left him, he found his way to the law office across the river in downtown Cincinnati. Walking into the massive building. He looked at the listings beside the elevators.

"Keatings Muenther & Klemkamp... 12th floor," he said, reading off the glass sign.

As they walked to the elevator, Ellen commented on the handsome building.

"This place is amazing," she said.

Rob laughed. "High dollar offices for sure. I guess representing rich criminals pays pretty good."

The elevator whisked them up eleven floors with a whoosh, suddenly slowing to a stop at the 12th floor. Walking in to the office they both were impressed by the luxury offices. Ellen glanced around as Rob stepped up to the receptionist desk.

"I'm Rob Anderson, I'm to see... This attorney," Rob said handing her the note.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson... Let's see... They are expecting you. Please follow me."

Stone cold faces laid eyes on Rob and Ellen as they entered the office. They were three suited men sitting at a conference table. One man stood, shaking Rob's hand he motioned them to take a seat.

With very little conversation, the man presented a typed statement for each Rob and Ellen.

"Read those over. If you are in agreement with the statement of facts, simply sign at the bottom of each page," the man instructed.

Rob and Ellen read over the papers. Coming to the end. They both glanced at one another.

Rob spoke up first. "It's basically right. But I didn't write this. I thought these were supposed to be our statements, not one already written up for us."

The man looked at the other two men beside him with a nod. Together they edited the depositions line by line until all parties were in agreement and satisfied.

After signing the statements, Rob and Ellen emerged from the maze of offices back into the elevator. They felt relieved to have the whole affair out of the way. All they needed to do now was go to Karl's office with his copy of the deposition. The attorneys assured Rob they would send the copy, but Rob felt better presenting it in person, so he could explain.

Karl was surprised to see Rob in his lobby. Refilling a ceramic coffee cup as Rob walked in, he smiled.

"Mr. Anderson. What brings you here today?"

Rob handed him a manila envelope. "That's our depositions. It's all there. We have nothing else to add. If we are called as witnesses, we will stick to that to the letter."

Karl waved him into his office, closing the door behind them.

"Have you given this to anyone else?" he asked.

Rob nodded. "Yeah. I just sat through an hour of questions at Keatings Muenther & Klemkamp. I assume those are George's lawyers. This is the complete record. They have both of our signed statements. We are out now. We came here to give these to you personally, so I could explain. Please tell Cranley we don't want to hear anymore about testifying at the trial, assuming there even is one."

Karl read over the depositions as he sat behind the desk. Putting them down, he looked at Rob over his glasses.

"This is a high profile firm, one of the most expensive in the city. How did you know of them?" Karl asked.

"I didn't," Rob replied. "I was told to go there, by an unnamed associate of George's."

Karl looked concerned. "I don't need to hear about that, but you realize you may still be called as a witness."

Rob shook his head. "We have nothing more to add to what's in those depositions... I suppose Cranley has no idea the most expensive law firm in the city has George as a client?"

Karl shrugged and tucked the pages back into the envelope.

"I have no idea. Nor do I need to know more. I will send copies of this to Mr. Cranley. It may prevent a subpoena."

Smiling, Rob shook Karl's hand.

"Thanks for all you help on this. I'm glad I have a lawyer I can count on."

Karl smiled back. "I will call if anything progresses. Until then, good luck Rob. I hope things work out your family."

Rob slid back into the van with a relieved smile on his face. Seeing his expression, Ellen breathed a sigh of relief as well. Turning the key, he fired the engine to life. Rob waited in the van while Ellen took the rent for the bookstore to Mr. Abner's door. He listened as she explained what her plans were. Asking for a lease, he stalled for bit, and sighed. She could see was ill.

"I don't have one ready. I will just do month-to-month the same as the apartment," he said coughing.

With no other choice, Ellen agreed and gave him the money.

"You have the key right?" he asked as his shaky hands counted the crisp bills.

"Yeah, I have it," she replied.

He nodded and began coughing louder. Ellen felt bad for him that he lived alone in such poor health.

"If you need anything Mr. Abner, just call me. I have a car now, I can help you..."

He waved her off with a scowl. "I'm fine, it's this god damn humidity. One of these days I need to move out west."

She thanked him again and invited him to come eat at their new cafe when he felt better.

"What kind of food are you kids serving up over there?" he asked, standing at the door.

"Traditional Mexican, the real deal too," she replied smiling.

He waved her off impolitely. "Never cared for those tacos. Messy bastards. You get the darn thing all over your shirt. I'd prefer a normal sandwich."

She smiled nervously, not knowing what to say. "Well, you're always welcome to come by and try something if you like."

Nodding, he shut the door as she walked away with a wave.

Ellen waited while Rob stood at the clerk's office counter for a half an hour. Filling out forms and counting out cash for the permits, he double-checked his paperwork.

After the clerk filed the papers, she handed him the receipts, inspection dates and a provisional occupancy permit.

"You will get your final permanent permit when the inspections have all been passed," she said, handing him a stamped form.

Rob drove back to the apartment to drop off Ellen and go shopping for supplies and equipment. Ellen kissed him goodbye and waved as he left. She was as excited as he was to get started. She would begin planning the remodel while Rob searched for equipment.

Deciding to purchase the bulk of the expensive equipment first, he headed to a used restaurant appliance store in Covington to buy the range, flattop and fryers. Arriving at the store, he walked in excited. An old man sat behind the dirty counter with a cigar between his teeth.

"Good day there sir," the man said. "What can I do you for you?"

Rob was too anxious to pause.

"I need quite a few things... I will round up what I want and we can go from there."

With a wave, he disappeared into the massive rows of ranges, fryers, ovens and equipment that filled the warehouse.

Snaking through the isles of stainless steel appliances, Rob looked for the pieces he needed, carefully measuring each potential purchase for a perfect fit into the small kitchen. After spending quite some time choosing a range, fryer, flat top, salamander and a vast array of pots, pans and utensils, he piled the smaller items in a cart along side a used but still viable Viking range. Walking to the front, he waved the old man back to the row.

"Here's what I rounded up. What do you need for the whole lot?"

The old man took out a three-dollar calculator. Pressing the keys with his fat fingers, he added up the price as he chewed his cigar.

"I'll do... Six grand plus tax."

Rob felt his heart sink. "I can't do six grand. We need to come closer to my price or I will have to make the rounds at the upcoming auctions myself and buy this stuff for less than half that. I would rather have it now. But six grand is too high for me."

The old man smiled with squinting eyes.

"You have enough stuff here to open a new joint. It's worth more than five times that new, just for that Viking range alone, not to mention all the other items."

Rob knew it was true. Nevertheless, he couldn't spend that amount on just the equipment with so much left to purchase.

"I just can't do more than four," Rob said as the old man stood silent.

After a shake of his head, the old man shrugged.

"I can't sell it all for that price young man. Those Viking ranges are all the rage. That one just came in. I can't keep them in stock."

Rob felt dismayed with his tone of finality.

The old man paused, waving Rob to follow him.

"If you are on a budget, I do have something you might like though. It just came in too. It's in the back."

The old man led Rob through a darkened doorway.

Clicking on a blinking light, the old man pointed.

"Here it is. It's an early Chambers, twelve burners, two ovens and all the chrome included. These things are built to last forever."

The old man paused, adding up the price in his head.

"You can have this stove in place of the Viking, plus all the other stuff, and I will take your four grand offer."

Rob looked over the range. It was covered in thick black burned grease. Pulling open the oven door, tatters of paper fell out of the door, a mouse nest sat in between the racks.

"Does it even work?" Rob asked as he eyed the ancient stove with doubt.

"Sure it does!" The old man said. And if it doesn't, don't worry. These old beauty's are cheap and easy to keep running. They're super simple. I have every spare part you could ever need. But I don't stock motherboards. That Viking has a motherboard. You know what a motherboard is?"

Rob nodded, indicating he did.

The old man shook his head. "You don't want to fool with that computerized thing if you're on a budget my boy, trust me. This old tank here was good enough for Julia Childs, and many other famous chefs too. They built a career on stoves just like this. It will be around long after you and I are gone."

Rob pondered the idea. Measuring the range he found it would fit, but just barely. Looking at it closer, he began to appreciate the Old World Quality. "If it doesn't work... How much will you charge me to fix it?"

The old man laughed. "If it doesn't work, I will give you whatever parts you need for free."

Rob liked the old stove the more he looked at it. It had a nostalgic charm that appealed to him. "Four grand out the door?" he asked casually.

"You picking it up or do you need it delivered?" the old man asked.

"Delivered would be preferred," Rob replied.

"Where are you located?" the old man asked.

"Greenup and Eighth," Rob replied as he thumbed out the cash, counting the bills in front of the old man.

"I can do that. It wouldn't be until tomorrow though," he said as Rob handed over the money.

"No problem. That's perfect. I will see you tomorrow then."

The old man motioned him to the counter, printing him a receipt.

"Thanks again! Come by and try our Mexican cuisine after we open, on the house," Rob said with a wave.

The old man puffed his cigar and smiled as he waved goodbye.

With the bulk of the appliances secured, Rob's next stop was back home to get Ellen, then to the hardware store. At the store's paint center, Ellen stood at the massive paint color swatch board comparing color cards. Choosing several, she purchased samples as Rob studied the indoor lighting. Catching up with her, he noticed she held only a bag of tiny plastic jars.

"What's with all the samples?" he asked.

"We have to see it in the light, in the room. I want it to be perfect," she replied.

Rob pointed out the lights hanging from the ceiling he liked. Ellen feigned a smile.

"What?" Rob asked as he watched her face betray her true feelings.

"It's so cozy in that room. The huge windows let in so much light during the day. I think at night we need to light the room with only low light and candles. Can you imagine that?"

Rob agreed. "That would be comfortable, but we need bright light to clean up by," he said.

"There are big fluorescents already there. We can use those after we close. I picture it being so cozy, let's skip the lights for now," she countered.

They gathered paint rollers, pans, and brushes, cleaning supplies, drop cloths and painter's tape into their cart as they made their way across the store. The teller rang up the total.

"One hundred thirty three and forty four cents. Would that be cash or credit?"

Rob handed her two crisp hundred-dollar bills.

Driving back to the bookstore, Rob parked on the curb where Miguel, Army and Jose were standing on the sidewalk. As they pulled up, Miguel smiled. Rob helped Ellen out of the van and shook Jose's hand. Miguel motioned to Jose.

"I brought along our contractor to check out the place and give us a price on rehab."

"Good to see you again Jose. So you want to help get us up and running?" Rob asked.

Jose nodded quickly. "Si, I can do it all for you."

Ellen unlocked the door to the bookstore and the crew filed in.

Walking straight to the kitchen, Rob explained his changes as Jose took notes. Leading him to the dining room, he handed Jose off to Ellen.

"Tell him what you need painted, changed or whatever. He's all yours now."

Rob went back to the kitchen as Ellen described her vision of the dining room and bar to Jose. Armando waved Rob and Miguel to the back room. Licking a thick blunt, he sparked his lighter and puffed it to life.

"I'm not sure we really need to be getting stoned at the moment Army. You know?" Rob asked as he watched the young Mexican inhale the smoke.

"Is in honor of our new place," Armando replied. "We need to bless the room. It will bring us good luck."

Miguel looked at Rob with a smile as Army began waving the blunt around the room between his fingers as if blessing it with the smoke.

Rob looked back at Miguel, shaking his head. Miguel shrugged.

"Never know Chef, maybe he ees right. Anyway, eet can't hurt amigo," he said seriously, then busted out with a big grin.

Smiling, Army poked his head out the open door, handing the blunt back in his outstretched hand. Rob smiled with him and took a big hit off the blue blunt. Passing it back, he walked to the dining room. Armando followed behind. Puffing the smoking spliff as he waved it into every corner of the room. Miguel looked on, coughing from a hurtful hit.

Rob found Ellen at the bar with Maria as Jose tallied up his total.

"I can do it all for... Twenty-five hundred. But I need to sub out an electrician and a plumber for the permits you know. Maybe three thousand in all."

Rob shook his hand. "That's a deal Jose. When can you get started?"

Jose laughed. "I already got started amigo. I have a few people coming now. We will get the dining room ready to paint tonight. Tomorrow, they will paint while I start on the kitchen."

Rob relaxed with his words. "Awesome! Ellen, you're going to need to get those colors picked out so we can have the paint tomorrow."

Ellen sat beside Rob at the long bar adding up the costs.

"Rent, rehab, appliances, paint and supplies, permits..." She jotted down the costs, adding them up as they went along. "That liquor permit is pricey. At over five thousand dollars, it puts us down to barely enough to open and still have some savings."

She did the math again and they both decided it was just too expensive to purchase now and would have to wait.

Choosing the colors from the swatches on the wall, Ellen left to get the paint and other supplies on her list. Arriving back outside the bookstore, she smiled when she saw the workers walking in and out with tools and supplies. Parking on the curb, she waved to Miguel.

"Hey Miguel! I have a van full of paint and supplies here!"

He jogged over as she popped the rear hatch open.

"Si! Dees ees good colors!" he said as he looked at the swatch on the cans.

"I picked them out to match the colors Mamma has at her house. This one is the terra-cotta, this one is the copper flower pot green..."

Miguel unloaded the van as Ellen walked into the room.

"Wow! You guys have been busy!" she said to Jose as she walked around the dusty floor, admiring the changes in progress.

"Si! We're no slackers. We will get it done in time for the inspection," he replied.

Rob was in the kitchen on his hands and knees, scraping the old tile from the floor. Seeing Ellen had returned, he stopped. Pointing at the old flooring, he wiped his forehead.

"I wanted to get started on this so they could plumb in the electric for the appliances soon," he said as she eyed the mess on the floor.

"What are you going to put down on the floor?" she asked.

Rob pointed to a stack of red clay tiles in the office.

"Jose got these extra tiles from a job site for free. There isn't a lot of them, but it's just enough for this small kitchen. Look at them! They are authentic Mexican clay tiles... Handmade even."

She looked at the pile and agreed. "Those are great. They are almost too pretty to go in a commercial kitchen."

Rob put an arm around her as he rested. "This place is going to be cozy from the front to the back. It will be a joy to work back here when we are done."

Ellen felt excited as she saw her imaginary ideas coming to life. "What about the walk-in?" she asked.

He looked forlorn as he sighed. "I still haven't found one. The ones at the store were all too big. We will have to go with two freestanding units. The equipment supply guy says he has some coming in shortly. I priced the ones he had in stock and I am hoping we can get a deal on the dirty ones he has coming in, otherwise it puts a crunch in our budget."

Ellen hugged him again. "It will all work out. I just know it, you just have to have faith."

Shrugging, Rob waved his hands up. "We can't work without a fridge. We will just have to wait and see what he gets in."

As the sun faded away, the crew left for home. Rob and Ellen ate a fast dinner and fell asleep. The day had been productive, but tiring, especially for Ellen.

Waking early the next day, the crew was already in action by the time Rob made his way down to the café. Hearing a truck horn honk outside on the curb, he turned to look, seeing it was the delivery truck with the appliances.

The crew unloaded them and moved the units in the room. Heaving the old Chambers range last, they struggled, pausing on the sidewalk in a sweat.

"Damn Amigo! Dees bitch ees heavy," Miguel said as he tried to budge it again.

Everyone pulled together, straining their way towards the door with the antique unit. Getting it just near the entrance, Rob waved to them to stop there.

"Lets just leave it here and I will clean it outside so the grease stays off our new floors."

They huffed and sighed as they inched the massive stove off to the side.

The day turned into night faster than anyone expected. Their non-stop work had caused the fall of evening to creep up sooner than they realized. Pausing for a break, Miguel passed out cold beers to the crew as Armando fired up big blue blunt. The workers sat in a circle on coolers and boxes as they took a rest to re-align their senses.

Maria swept up the rooms one by one, sponge mopping after the dust was collected. In a matter of two days the entire space had taken on a new look. It was far from finished, but the basics were coming to life before their eyes. It was an inspiring sight to all of the weary crew.
Chapter 12

By the end of the week, the cafe was nearly ready to open. Except for the refrigerators, the kitchen was in place. While returning to the used appliance store to check out the fridge units, Rob found an antique cast iron tortilla press and traditional cooking stone in a pile of odd items.

Worming through the junkyard of equipment, he spied two discounted fridge units sitting beside the back door. Measuring, he found the units were perfect, they fit his space with three inches to spare. Both were in desperate need of a thorough cleaning, as was everything he had purchased so far, but they were cheap enough to make the purchase worth the extra effort. Paying for the coolers, he left happy that the final pieces were secured. The delivery truck followed behind with the units.

A call to the permit office confirmed that the inspector would be there Monday morning. Rob told Ellen the news with a hopeful smile. She worried they weren't going to be ready in time.

"We don't have any tables and chairs, nor plates or silverware. And the fridges are not even cleaned yet..."

Rob cut her off. "We don't need tables and chairs for the inspection. We just need to get these fridges cleaned and installed."

Maria jumped in with a bucket of bleach water and rags. Rob helped her work. Scrubbing side by side, the two brought the shiny stainless steel back to life.

Miguel and Rob slid the fridges into place, plugging them in to cool. Miguel stood smiling at the final piece of the puzzle.

"We almost ready to get cooking amigo!" he said.

Rob smiled with a nod. "We still need all the small stuff, plus tables and chairs, glasses, china and silver. But I plan to go back to the supply store today and take care of the plates and utensils. The tables and chairs are another story."

Miguel frowned. "I bet they have lots of tables at the place."

Rob nodded. "They have lots, yes. I looked them over twice now. But the styles are just awful. We need something that fits with the coziness of the room, something casual, traditional looking."

Miguel shrugged. "We can always paint them with dees colors. We have a few cans left over."

Walking in the see the fridges, Ellen agreed.

"We should just do that Rob, we're really waiting to the last minute here on these tables."

The guys took the van and headed back to supply store once again. Maria stayed behind to finish cleaning with Ellen. Walking around the warehouse, Miguel found a pile of tables perched atop on another.

"What about dees?" he asked, pointing.

Rob looked them over. They were old wood top tables with rusted chrome legs. The old man noticed Rob looking at them.

"I will give you a good deal on those metal legged tables there. They came out of an old school in Indiana. Early fifties, they have chairs with them too."

Rob shot a look over at the man with his mention of the chairs.

"Where are the chairs?" he asked, still studying the tables.

The old man pointed to a far corner. "They are all over there. The blue ones."

Rob and Miguel walked over the dark corner. A huge stack of chairs were piled high, ready to topple.

"God these are ugly!" Rob said as he pulled one out.

Miguel quickly sat on it. "It feels strong to me amigo."

The old man shuffled over and spoke up. "Those are walnut and damn strong. I bought five hundred of them and not a single one is weak or needs repair. You don't see that with the chairs they make these days."

Rob looked at their form. He imagined them painted with the colors they used on the walls and bar.

"How much for twenty five tables and a hundred chairs?"

The old man chewed his cigar as he fished one out of the pile.

"I'll do twenty a piece on the chairs and fifty each on the tables."

Rob laughed. "Sorry Mr. I admit you gave me decent deals so far. But twenty for these chairs, then cleaning and painting them all... And those tables need sanded and painted too. I can't put that much money out for this stuff. They're just too rough."

The old man stayed firm. "Those are vintage sets. I get that and more for them all the time from designers. They don't sand or paint them, they love the rust."

The old man could see by Rob's face he wasn't going for the price. Pausing, he thought for a minute.

"Tell you what, I have some miss-matched stuff in the back room. I bet you can scrape up twenty-five sets out of there. If you can find what you need, I will go five on the chairs and ten on the tables."

Miguel perked up, looking at Rob.

"Let's check them out!" he said as they walked to the other room.

Flicking on a blinking light, Rob saw the massive pile of old tables and chairs thrown haphazardly in a pile.

"Dig in fellas. You got to dig to get the good stuff. People are lazy and they just take from the edges. There is some nice stuff in there if you put the sweat into dragging them out.

Rob and Miguel spent nearly an hour sorting through the pile. Finally they chose enough pieces to complete the dining room.

"Any chance for delivery today, it will take me forty trips by myself," Rob asked.

"Not for that price. I will drop them off tomorrow for... Fifty bucks more.

Rob agreed and moved all his pieces to one side.

"All these are the ones we want," he said pointing to the rows Miguel had lined up.

"Good deal, you found some nice ones there. I told you it was worth digging," the old man said as Rob paid him with the crisp new bills.

The next day, the tables and chairs arrived in the big truck. Ellen watched with Maria as the guys unloaded them into the dining room.

"These aren't even matching sets Rob," Ellen said as she looked over the pieces.

"Yeah I know Ellen. But they were cheap. Once they are all painted the same, they will look fine. Plus they are all in good shape and very strong."

By the end of the day, the tables and chairs had been cleaned and painted. As they dried in the sun, Maria and Miguel began moving them into the room. Ellen was amazed at how well they turned out.

"These look great Miguel," Ellen said looking them over.

"Si! We noticed there were four styles of chairs. So we painted each style a different color. They look good huh?"

Ellen put one blue, one green, one yellow and one orange chair at each table. Pushing the last chair into place, they looked over the new additions.

"I love them," Ellen said smiling, "These colors give the room an eclectic feel and the color coordination brings it all together like it was meant to be."

Standing back, admiring the work, the crew was proud. The space had been transformed completely. The once dusty bookstore was now a quaint cozy café. Miguel's chairs gave the space a whimsical charm everyone loved immediately.

"Your different colored chairs idea really pulled this place together. It's the perfect finishing touch. Great job on that Miguel! You have a real decorator's eye," Ellen said.

Patting her shoulder, he shook his head in disagreement.

"I have a cheep eye Miss Ellen. Mexicans, we try to do eet all for free. Eets not good taste, just good luck. I think maybe Army's blessing ees working already."

Overhearing, Armando's eyes went wide as he yelled back to Rob.

"Chef! Did you hear that? It did work! See I was telling you it was a good idea..."

Smiling, Rob wiped his hands as nodded in agreement.

"I guess your right Army. Maybe you should do that to our apartment too."

With a fast nod, Armando dashed out the door. His blunt in hand, he flicked his lighter as he treaded up the steel stairs.

Maria hugged Miguel as they looked at the room. Rob stood with his arm around Ellen.

"Except for the glassware, china and silver, it's all done, sort of. We are ready for the inspection! Now, lets celebrate." Rob yelled out enthusiastically.

The crew sat at the bar drinking cold beers as they talked about how well the budget rehab had come together. Tomorrow they would work on the dishes and silverware. The café was nearly ready to stock with fresh food.

The following day, Rob was ducked behind the bar, cleaning the storage cabinets when a horn honked at the curb. Looking out the big windows, he saw Harvey waving from his new car. Harvey parked and walked in as Rob waved back to him.

"Anderson! What the fuck kind of madness do you have got going on now?" he asked as he stopped inside the door.

Rob laughed. "This is our new place. What do you think?"

Harvey looked at the multi-colored tables and chairs and shook his head.

"Looks like a rummage sale," he said with a laugh.

Walking through the back room, he checked out the kitchen and storeroom. Walking behind the big bar, he looked under the shelves and drawers.

"There's no liquor it this bar Anderson! Didn't you know I was coming?"

Rob laughed. "We don't have a liquor permit yet. We are hoping just to get our food permit and up and running."

Harvey laughed again. "The food permit is easy. I know a few of the inspectors over here. Who's your guy?"

Rob dug out the paper from a stack on the bar.

"Ronald Conrad," he said, reading the name.

"I know him," Harvey said. "He's a hard ass, but he loves old scotch. What day is he coming?"

Rob tossed the paper back on the bar. "Tomorrow at noon."

Harvey smiled. "Perfect. I will stop by and give ole Ronny a rib. It will help you out I'm sure. Be sure to have a bottle of five-year-old scotch here. Ten year old would be even better. It will be worth investment, you'll see."

Harvey sat on a lone stool, teasing the crew as they cleaned and wiped down the shelves behind the bar.

"Don't you even have any beer here?" Harvey asked.

Rob shook his head. "Not anymore, we drank what little we had yesterday.

"Son of a bitch. You're finally standing there at your own bar, without a single drink in sight. I don't know about you sometimes Anderson," Harvey said, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

Handing Armando a hundred dollar bill, Harvey told him to go to the store and bring back good beer and better scotch. Armando nodded with a broad smile and dashed out the door.

Harvey chatted teasingly as they waited. Seeing the crew was all busy, Harvey strolled the room again, sizing up the potential.

"You're gonna' need more than one bar stool unless you plan to have me as your only customer," Harvey said as Rob cleaned the cabinets.

"I was holding off on the costs since we have no liquor permit. That bar permit is expensive," Rob replied with his head in a cabinet.

"Expensive? It's a huge moneymaker! You can't afford not to buy it. My god do I have to..."

Harvey stopped mid sentence as he saw Armando carrying the beer on the sidewalk.

"Here we go. There's what I was waiting for," he said as Army stacked the drinks on the bar. "Jesus boy! Don't leave it there! Put it in the damn fridge. We don't want warm beer you know."

Armando scowled as he whisked it away back to the coolers. Harvey stopped him and took the liquor bottle from his arms.

"No need to chill this though. I need a few fingers of that now. Do you have a glass?"

Rob laughed. "No glasses, plates or silverware yet. I will get you one from upstairs."

Harvey gave him a hard stare.

"What kind of joint are you running here Anderson? No beer, no liquor, no glasses, no plates, no silverware. That's a fine start for any cafe!"

Rob laughed nervously. "We're kinda' on a budget you know... The china at the supply store was all chipped and the silver was crap too. I've been holding out to find something better that I can afford. It will all come together soon. Like Ellen always says... You just have to have Faith."

Harvey grumbled. "Faith? What the hell does that mean? This is dishware, you don't need a prayer to get it right, you just need... Goddamn kids... No fucking glasses, no plates... How the hell..."

Thumbing with his phone, he grumbled until he heard an answer on the other end. "Charles! I know where to take all that silver and china we have taking up the shelves in the goddamn storeroom. Load all that shit up on the truck and bring it over here... I don't know it by heart you dumbass. I will text you the fucking address if you give me a goddamn minute..."

Rob came back with a glass for Harvey as he hung up his phone.

"China and sliver is on the way." Harvey said as hung up. "It's good shit too, top dollar four years ago. Some stupid New York decorator bitch Ruby brought by got him all riled up about new trends in plate design. Dumbass went out and bought everything new in some silly square plate style, over a hundred grand in all. Ever since, the old stuff has been taking up all my fucking storage shelves," Harvey said as he took the glass in hand.

Rob smiled and patted him hard on the shoulder. "Wow! Thanks Harvey! I bet they are awesome. We could never afford anything near that level. I am so glad to have it."

Pouring his scotch, Harvey grinned. "And I'm so glad to get rid of it, so we're even."

Taking a deep swig off the Scotch, Harvey watched the crew work.

"So what else is missing from this puzzle of pain you're cobbling together here?"

Rob shrugged. "Mostly the smalls. Kitchen utensils, storage pans and the like. We will work it out as we go along."

Harvey laughed. "Oh sure!" Turning in his stool, he looked into the back room. "Miguel! Fuck the utensils, just start cooking!" he yelled loudly to Miguel as he stood painting in the kitchen. "You can get by without a fucking spatula can't you?"

Harvey laughed at Miguel's confused look as he took another swig from his glass. Miguel shrugged and went on with his work.

"Goddamn kids. Why didn't you fucking tell me the first time?" Harvey asked as he thumbed his phone again. "Charles! When you bring those plates and silver, grab all that shit from the back room we used to cater with... Yes all of it. All the fucking pans, the fucking utensils, all of it! Do you have wax in your ears? Clean that room out and load it all up in the truck. Anything else lying around in that room, throw that it all in the fucking truck too. I want to see a clean bare room when I get back... Who says what? Listen to me you little shit-stained bastard, I couldn't care less about what Kathy says. Fuck her. I'm the goddamn general manager the last time I checked. So who are you going to listen to boy?"

Rob couldn't help but silently laugh as he watched Harvey grin into the phone. Harvey looked up, silently laughing towards Rob as the poor employee sat tongue tied on the other end of the call.

"That's what I thought. Now hurry the fuck up. I don't want to wait here for you until dark either."

Harvey hung up the phone and settled back on his stool again.

"I'm sending you a whole fucking pile of shit. I know there is silverware in there. I don't remember what all is in that shit pile but it's sure as hell more than what you have now."

Rob stopped cleaning and fetched a beer from the fridge for Harvey and himself.

"I can't thank you enough," Rob said, twisting the top off the bottles.

Harvey waved him off. "It's all useless junk to me. They would rather let it sit around taking up space for decades than make room for things we need by clearing it the fuck out. We quit catering years ago. I hated that shit from the first mention of it. After going to Carson Palmer's catered birthday party, Ruby got all fired up with some bright idea about catering private parties for celebrities. Fucking stupid."

Rob sipped his beer as he listened.

"We're supposed to be a goddamn fine dining steakhouse I told him. Not a fucking catering company. Where will we get the staff to run the thing, and the trucks I asked him? He had no idea. I told him it would never be worth the hassle. But noo... We have to do it his way. It didn't last six months. We spent five times more on promotion that we ever earned. Half the gigs we did cater were for free. Now that shit has been stacked up in my main storeroom for three years. He doesn't need it and I need the room back. Besides, I want to see you kids make out in this joint you have going here. And you better listen to me. You need to get your damn liquor permit."

Rob nodded. "With all the donated items you have coming, I might be able to afford it."

Harvey shot him a cold stare. "Might be? Who the fuck wants a fajita dinner without a Margarita? You've got to have the liquor. That's where you make the dough son. It offsets the food costs. Do you even know the first thing about what the fuck you're doing here Rob? Now tell me the truth."

Laughing, Rob tried to reply. "We already have this nice bar... I've been hoping to work the permit into the budget. Now I can, thanks to you. But I'm not sure how many are available. They are tough to come by, and there is a long wait for new permits."

Harvey thought about the situation as he switched between his beer and scotch.

"Yeah yeah I know. They act they are gold or something... Fuck!" Harvey shouted with eyebrows raised high.

"The goddamn Pub!" he said slapping his hand on the bar. "I knew I was missing something. You kids have me so frazzled I nearly forgot The Pub has a license just sitting."

Rob looked at him puzzled. "The Pub?"

Harvey laughed as he poured more scotch into his glass. "Fuck yes The Pub. It has a liquor license. The full deal, carry out and Sunday too, you remember? Starbucks don't fucking need it. Those permits are transferable you know. You could get that one, transfer it over to here and skip most of the red tape bullshit. I will call the agent and find out if I can get it off them."

Harvey made the call as Rob started polishing the shelves in anticipation of the new dishware.

"Harvey Grimes here, I want you to call that outfit that bought The Pub over here in Newport and find out if they want to get rid of that liquor license..."

Harvey trailed off as Rob walked outside to help Miguel carry in the boxes of candles Ellen arrived with.

The crew carried the boxes in the dining room as Harvey sat on the stool watching. His phone rang. Fishing it out of his pocket, he answered.

"Yeah... They do? Then tell them I have someone that wants it... Yes today! When the fuck else would I want to know, next week? Right. Fine, that's all I wanted you to do."

Hanging up, he tossed the phone on the bar.

"They don't want it. They were going to let it expire. Just like I thought, you will probably get it for just the transfer fees. Saves you a few grand."

Rob was elated at the news. Things were finally falling into place, thanks to their friends and extended family. He couldn't help but wonder about Armando's blunt blessing.

"So what's the name of this joint anyway?" Harvey asked as he poured another drink.

Rob looked up with a shot.

"It's a... kinda' of a secret for now. Until the grand opening anyway."

Harvey bellowed a laugh. "Secret? What the fuck kind of start up keeps their name a secret? You're supposed to be plugging this place everyday on Facebook and shit right up till the minute you unlock the door! I thought you knew this business son. Goddamn! Do I have to come over here and manage this joint in my off time or what?"

Rob laughed. "Well, I just wanted it to be a surprise."

Walking over to Harvey's stool, Rob explained his intentions with a whisper.

Harvey listened as Rob quietly explained.

"That's all fine and well, but you got to get going with plugging this place. You open in what... A week?"

Rob nodded. "Early next week, as soon as the permit goes through."

Harvey shook his head as he swigged his beer.

"Jesus Almighty Christ Anderson... That will never do. You needed publicity a month ago. Ruby plugs his new joints a fucking year before they open."

Rob knew it was true. It had all happened so sudden, and the low budget gave them no time to delay the opening. They needed to get sales in the drawer right away to keep their mounting personal bills at bay.

"You're going to have to get that name out before you open," Harvey said again as he poured scotch into his glass.

"I have a temporary vinyl sign all ready to go. But only I know about it," Rob shot back with a whisper.

The entire crew stopped working and looked over. Ellen walked by just in time to hear Rob's statement.

"You do? I thought you didn't have a name yet?" she asked excitedly.

Miguel spoke up from across the room. "Yeah! We all want to know the name too amigo."

Rob smiled as he walked upstairs to fetch the sign. All eyes were on him as he came down the stairs with the rolled sign in hand. Laying it on the long bar, he unfurled it.

"Hey! What the hell?" Miguel asked as read the words.

Ellen read it aloud. "Maria Miguel's Mexican Cafe."

Miguel's eyes went wide as he heard the name.

"I think it's perfect!" Ellen said with a huge smile.

Maria walked over to see the sign.

"Why do you name it for Miguel and me?" she asked curiously.

"Because it could never happen without you two. And you two are not just employees, you're part owners," Rob replied.

Maria shot him a surprised look, hugging him nearly in tears.

"This place... Is ours too?" she asked, hands over her mouth.

"Yep! You, Miguel, Army, you are all the inspiration for this place. You all get a profit share, just like Ellen and I. Plus the name sounds like a Mexican place. I couldn't exactly call it Rob and Ellen's Mexican Café now could I?"

Maria hugged Rob hard with her eyes closed, nearly tearing. Miguel took his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing his mom.

"Mamma! Guess what the name of the new cantina ees... Maria Miguel's! Si! You have to see eet. We are close to ready. We gonna' have the best food too! You come tomorrow you will see."

Miguel hung up the phone, walking over to Rob with his eyes closed. Hugging him hard, Rob pushed Miguel back by his shoulders.

"Are you gonna' cry you big baby?" Rob asked, laughing as Miguel wiped tears from his eyes.

"You and Ellen, we all familia you know. Real family," he replied with a sniffle.

Harvey laughed loud. "Now that the secret is out lets get on with the invitations."

Rob shot him a look. "Invitations?"

Harvey pointed to the dining room. "You only have twenty five tables son! You want them all full of broke ass regular Joe's for the grand opening?"

Rob looked at the dining room. "I just want to open and start making some money back."

Harvey laughed. "Make some money back... You crack me up. If you had a stage I would swear I was in a comedy club. Don't worry about making money on the grand opening son. That's your only chance to reel in reviewers from the local rags, City Beat, The Enquirer, The food blogs. You reserve them tables, invite them to the opening, all comped. If they like the food, you will have hoards of people coming in from their articles and blog posts for weeks. After that, it's up to you. You only get one shot at opening right. Ruby's joints are always VIP only on grand opening night. Only the ball players, stars and reviewers are invited. It's all about the hype kid."

Miguel spoke out with an idea. "Maya loves Facebook. She can eet going today."

Rob agreed. "Let's work out the menu, send it to her and have her get it going."

Harvey shook his head. "You need personal invitations, not Facebook bullshit. Email invites to the right people. Trust me, don't charge them a dime and just keep piling on the food, with plenty of alcohol too. They will show up for a free meal that for sure. They're like a bunch of bloodsucker leaches those fucking reviewers."

Harvey stared at his drink in thought. "We need a few famous Mexicans too... Ball players, The Reds. Our roster if chock full of Hispanics, if they like the food, it will look real good for you."

Rob laughed out loud. "I will get right on that. Ellen, where did you put our list of phone numbers for the The Reds players?"

Harvey sat grinning at Rob. "I get your point Anderson. Let me make another call. Sarah has a list of that shit."

Harvey paced by the big windows explaining to Sarah what he wanted her to do.

"The fucking Reds Sarah, I don't care which ones you invite! Anyone with a Mexican sounding name... Contreras, Soto... So what if he is Puerto Rican, he looks like a Mexican to me. They all eat tortillas and shit, how different could they be? Invite them all anyway. Tell them this is a traditional taste of home here. The best Mexican food anywhere in the fucking city. No, wait... tell them it's Hispanic food. Yes it's all comped! Jesus Age Christ woman do I have to spell it out for you? It's a goddamn grand opening... Of course everything is free... Hold your horses Sarah I'll fucking send it in a minute; I don't know the damn address by heart. It's called Maria Miguel's Mexican Café, in Newport, Greenup and Fifth... Fine, text me when you're done."

Harvey hung up, shaking his head. "Spoiled fucking millionaire bastards, they act like paying for a meal is out of the question."

Rob knew Harvey had the connections to fill Maria Miguel's with a celebrity roster for the grand opening. The notion fueled his excitement. He hoped this would put them in the press and on the online blogs for the publicity they needed.

Armando shot up from his crouch under the bar.

"The Reds are coming here? Will they give us autographs?" he asked.

Rob waved him off. "No Army, no autographs. We will be in the kitchen, we won't even see them."

Armando slumped. "Man I want to get some autographs..."

A truck hissed to a stop and backed up beside the cafe.

"Finally. Here is that slow-ass bastard!" Harvey said, standing up from his stool.

Walking out to the truck, he waved the driver out.

"Open this fucker up and let's get this thing unloaded," he said as the crew filed out to the street.

They formed a chain line and passed the heavy boxes of plates and cartons of silverware from one hand to the next as the driver handed them down from the truck.

Ellen, Rob and the crew were wide eyed at the sight of all the items.

"This is great stuff! I love these plates; they are large enough to hold our biggest entrée items. And look at those boxes of utensils. These must be hundreds of them in there. Look at all the pans... and here are more kitchen tools..." Rob said as he churned through the boxes.

Like a kid on Christmas at a Toys-R-Us going out of business give away, Rob looked through the boxes smiling.

Harvey finished his last beer and walked back to the kitchen where Rob and the crew were washing up the silver and plates.

"You're out of beer and I gotta' go," Harvey said as he tossed the empty bottle in the trash. "I will see you Monday. Leave that scotch out on the bar for ole Ronny during the inspection. I will call you when I hear about the permit transfer from Starbucks. Until then, keep up the good work. You all are doing a fine job, for such a shoe string budget and all."

Thanking him again, Rob shook his hand. Ellen gave him a hug as he turned to leave.

"Jesus, you would think I just put you all in my will or something," Harvey said, laughing at their affection.

"You really helped us out on this one man. We will never forget it," Rob yelled as Harvey walked to his car.

Rolling the window down Harvey called out. "You can make it up to me when you get that bar up and running."

With a smile and wave they agreed.

"There will always be a bottle of the best here with your name on it," Rob yelled as he waved goodbye.

The next few days were a long string of hard work and late hours. The storeroom sat idle, stocked with ingredients. The dining room looked warm and cozy, Ellen and Maria found items from thrift stores to dress up the interior. They filled old earthen pots with bright flowers, lining the plants on the big window ledges.

Mamma came with more traditional decor items and helped decorate the dining room and bar area. Miguel and Army had the back of the house in fine shape, ready to be put to the test. Harvey's help with the liquor permit paid off as it proudly hung on the wall behind the bar. In a matter of days the cafe was completed.

"Tomorrow is the big day!" Rob said as he stood in the dining room where everyone was gathered. "Tonight, we will have a family dinner, everyone is invited. All of the dishes we serve will be on the menu. A sort of test run to get everything just right. Let's all meet back here at seven."

The family and friends finished their last minute tasks then made their way home.

As the sun faded into evening, the family flowed back into the cafe. Pushing tables together, they formed a long communal table. Maria served drinks as they settled in. Soon, the first of the food arrived.

Big bowls of menudo soup, platters of brightly sauced tamales and tacos followed. Next came the enchiladas, tostadas, sopes and stuffed pablano peppers. Miguel proudly brought out a steaming beef roast and stacks of fresh blue corn tortillas.

With the table set, the proud crew took their places. The family and friends dined and drank as they laughed and talked about the exciting new restaurant. The flavors were divine, the wine wonderful and the company fondly familia. The cozy warm decor gave the cafe just the comfortable home-style feel Ellen had hoped for.

After dinner, Miguel brought out fresh churros to go with Rob's homemade Mexican Crème -Vanilla Bean ice cream. When they had finished the soothing dessert, Armando and Amanda made their way to the back patio. Miguel waved Jose and Rob along with him as he made his way to follow.

The small group stood outside in the evening air as Army's blunt passed from one smiling face to the next. Inside, Ellen and Maria helped Mamma as she cleared the tables. Mamma commented on Ellen's size.

"You gonna' have a healthy baby! I can tell it will be healthy by your size and shape. What is the baby's name?"

Ellen laughed. "We still have not decided on a name yet. I'm hoping we figure it out before I give birth!"

"I'm sure you will. You must be so busy. Look what all you have accomplished in just a few weeks. It's amazing, and so beautiful. I see good business here. Miguel is so excited, I'm so very proud of him, of you all" Mamma said.

The family said their thanks and goodbyes with hugs as they made their way to the street. Rob and Ellen stood side by side waving to them as they left. Ellen felt at home now more than ever. She felt she had finally found a place, a direction, and a focus in life. The feeling secured her as she had never known.

Walking back up the steel stars to their apartment, they both reveled in the feeling of being blissfully full. Worn out, Ellen rested on the plush mattress. Rob held her close, silently enjoying the peacefulness of the evening. When she dozed into a sleep, he rose and went back to the kitchen table, lighting the room with a single candle.

Pouring a glass of red wine, Rob lit the remainder of the blunt Army had left for him. After a brief moment of calm thought, his fingers danced across the keys of the laptop. The next chapter of his ongoing story was unfolding letter by letter silently under the star lit night.
Chapter 13

Finishing touches were being tweaked across the cafe as the crew prepared for the grand opening. Ellen turned the plants in the big window seat to face their blooming beauty to the diners. Maria placed pretty pink orchids in small vases on the tabletops. Miguel wafted a rich aroma across his palate as he stirred an ancient recipe pot of red sauce simmering on the now gleaming Chambers range. Armando polished the fine china with pride, stacking each plate with intentional care. Rob faced the bottles behind the bar as traditional Mexican music played lightly from hidden speakers.

Mamma insisted on working in the kitchen along side the crew for the grand opening. Adorned in her finest traditional Mexican dress, the sun warmed her smiling face as she pressed out blue corn tortillas by hand. Tossing them onto the searing hot cook stone, flipping them gently the second the edges were nicely browned.

A calm but exciting vibe permeated the house from front to back. Harvey's contact list had come through with reviewers and a several local celebrities. Five of the seven area newspapers had reserved tables. Famous Reds players had also reserved a few more tables as well.

Rob fought back giddy nervousness, not due to the pressures of the opening, rather from the expense of the free food and drinks that Harvey had been so insistent on. He knew it was the right idea but had not factored the cost in his initial budget. His instincts forced him to agree but the thirty thousand dollar bank was running dangerously low. His financial insecurity loomed like a black cloud the in the back of his mind.

By six o'clock the crew were ready. Every nuance was perfect as the "Open" sign clicked on for the first time. Rob propped the door open to let the summer breeze in and the inciting aroma from the kitchen out. Ellen stood at the entry, escorting the first guests to a table with a genuine smile.

"Have you been here before?" Ellen asked as she presented the menus. The woman at the table looked up with a caught-off-guard open-mouthed stare.

"I thought this was a grand opening?" she asked nervously, as she shot a look at her companion.

Ellen broke the tension with a laugh. "Just kidding. You two relax an allow me bring you something to snack on while you look over the menu."

The couple laughed along with her.

"Food before we order? I like this place already," the man said as he picked up his menu.

"Of course you will be wanting a cold cocktail I would assume?" she asked.

The couple looked at one another. Sensing their delay, Ellen continued her pitch before either could say no.

"We have a truly authentic Margarita. Fresh squeezed lime and lemon juice, raw sugar cane and two ounces of Patron whisked in the blender with a hint of secret traditional spices. Enjoy it over ice, or as a slushy."

The two diners raised their eyebrows as they stared across the table.

"That sounds too good to pass up on to me," the man said.

"Ooh it does sound good. Make that two," the woman replied.

Rob watched as Ellen walked to the bar. He called out the order through the pass window as he made the drinks.

"First table! Get some chips & salsa out," he said as he peered back at Miguel.

Armando tossed a handful of fresh blue and yellow corn tortillas into the fresh virgin fryer oil. Stirring them as they floated, he lifted them from the bubbling oil in the basket. Waving a dust of sea salt across the shiny chips, he tossed them onto a towel.

Piling them high onto a platter, he drizzled the hot tortillas with lime juice. With a final dash of finely chopped cilantro on top, he passed them to Miguel. Squeezing on a big ramekin of salsa Mamma made earlier, he placed the dish in the window.

Rob whisked it out immediately. Sliding a tray with the colorful chips and drinks to Ellen, she took them to the table.

"Patron margaritas and cilantro-lime tortillas with traditional salsa," Ellen said as she placed them on the table. "Have you decided on an entrée? Or care to hear suggestions?"

The couple looked up at one another over their menus.

"I was thinking..." the woman trailed off.

"How about this beef roast?" the man asked.

"It's divine" Ellen replied. "A grain fed Angus prime rib roast, rubbed with a blend of traditional herbs and spices, slow cooked for five hours. It's finished with a savory smoked poblano pepper sauce. It sings, but it's not real spicy. It is accompanied with our roasted pepper soup pinto beans, tomato-garlic three herb rice, and sweet corn pudding."

Listening with eyebrows raised as Ellen described the dish, the man was fixated with her words.

"Think Mexican Thanksgiving at grandma's," Ellen said, coaxing him on with the mental image.

"Yep. That's what I want then," he said, handing Ellen the menu as he took his drink in hand.

"God that sounds good," the woman said under her breath as Ellen looked her way.

"Fluatas... Now what is that exactly?" she asked.

"The chef starts with a soft corn tortilla. It's stuffed with roast prime rib and red pepper sauce, rolled tightly, then fried crisp. It's topped with cilantro, Mexican crème and green tomatillo salsa. It's served with an avocado-tomato salad and grilled cactus."

The woman looked her husband with excitement.

"I've never heard of anything like that in all my years of eating Mexican food."

Ellen laughed. "Well, we opened this place to serve real Mexican cuisine... Made by real Mexicans. These are the dishes they know and love from home."

The woman nodded with a smile. "I want to try that. It sounds intriguing."

"You're going to love it. We will make certain of that," Ellen said as she took her menu with a smile.

"First order!" Rob said through the pass as he read the ticket. "One roast, one flautas. Lets make it perfect. First order sets the tone for the night. Make me proud Miguel."

Miguel called back the order, as did Armando, quickly scrambling, taking his place at the fryer.

"Si si. One flautas, six minutes chef!" Armando said loudly.

Miguel shot him a glance. "Easy amigo. We do dees the best."

Miguel forked off layered chunks of tender roast onto the plastic wrapped scale. Rob had been clear on the portion weights earlier as they practiced. Spooning on the rice, a ladle of soup pintos and corn pudding, he dressed the plate with sprinkle of cilantro, sliced raw radish and a dash of fresh lime juice.

"Roast in the window! Where's my fluatas Armando?" Miguel asked.

Armando slid the crisp fluatas off his white drain towel onto the platter. Finishing the sides and garnish, he pushed the plate to the window just seconds after Miguel's demand.

"Here! It's ready," Army said, placing it in the pass.

Rob took the plates in hand. Nodding in approval at the flawless presentation, he handed the pretty plates to Ellen.

Ellen walked the dishes to the guests. For the first few seconds after the food hit the table, the customers sat in silent motionlessness, just staring. Ellen broke their spell.

"If there is anything else you need just let me know. I will be back in a few to see what you think."

The woman smiled with an open mouth. "This looks..."

Her companion finished her sentence. "Amazing."

She nodded in agreement as she took her fork to the crispy fluata. Tenderly at first, as if wanting to explore, but not wanting to disturb the picture perfect food on the plate.

By contrast, the man quickly forked into the biggest piece of roast on the plate. Sliding it across the rich sauce, he chomped the chunk whole into his mouth. The woman watched for his reaction as he began to chew. His eyes closed, his head lowered as his teeth worked the tender roast into bits. He raised his head up high as he swallowed.

"You have to try this," he said as he passed a chunk onto her plate.

As she tasted the roast, the man cut the end off one of her flautas with his fork.

Ellen watched without them knowing, studying their reaction. Turning back to the bar, she leaned over to where Rob was standing.

"They love it."

He looked their way as he wiped out the mixer cup.

"Did they say they loved it?" he asked.

Ellen shook her head. "They don't need to. I've been doing this a long time. I know they do. They're stealing bites from one another, that is the first sign. Their silence is the second."

Miguel came to the pass window looking to see the diners that ordered the food. Armando strained on his toes behind him to get his own glimpse. Rob leaned to the window face to face with them.

"They are loving it," he said. "Good job guys! First entree of the night was perfect. Let's keep it up. Every dish just as perfect as those two all night until the last is served."

Soon the invited diners were filing in with a steady flow. The door barely squeezed shut before it opened again for a solid hour. Ellen began seating Maria's section, then as her own filled up, she abandoned the sections and teamed up to work the room in unison.

It was a rare treat. A much more efficient way of serving the crowd, yet never realized at her previous jobs, as servers do not like sharing tables, nor tips. Ellen and Maria were not concerned with tips, they were one, working as one, for one goal, total professionalism. They worked as a team, one taking orders as the other bussed and refilled drink glasses beside her.

Ellen passed by the door with empty plates. Harvey pulled it open, holding it as two Hooters girls walked in giggling to each other about some whispered banter. Harvey turned to Ellen with his arms outstretched.

"Mrs. Anderson! You're working like an immigrant busboy. Just look at that stack of plates!"

Shooting him a sarcastic smile, she placed the plates in the bus tub.

"You arrived too late," she said, wiping her hands with a towel. "The tables are all full."

Harvey stood with arms out. "You can't tell me there is no room here for us. I have brought two very hungry, very lovely ladies to sample Chef Rob's finest cuisine. I even made reservations."

Smiling coyly, she pointed around the room.

"No kidding, the tables are all taken."

Harvey looked around, nodding his head.

"Yes, but you have several empty seats at the bar. And that's the best seat in the house."

Taking three menus, she waved him to the bar stools.

Harvey pulled the stools out for the two girls then sat between them. Rob poured a triple shot of 15-year-old scotch he bought just for Harvey. Sliding an iced bottle of beer beside it, Harvey smiled.

"Now that's more like it! It feels good to finally have a proper bar to go to again."

Taking a quick gulp of the liquor, he eased back in his seat with the scotch. Scanning the lively crowd, he waved Rob over from the pass window.

"Hell-of a grand opening my boy. You should be proud," Harvey said, holding up his drink.

Rob nodded as he made several drink orders for Maria.

"It's not because of me all these people are here. It's all due to your contact list. Credit for the success of the opening goes to you Harv'," Rob said, making a margarita.

Harvey waved him off with a smirk. "No credit due to me required. You pulled this place off on the smallest budget I have ever heard of. Looks pretty damn good too. Ruby could take a few lessons from your frugal methods. Just look at this décor... Ruby's designer would have spent tens of thousands on the interior and not bested this, seriously."

Rob shot him a smile. "Thanks, but Ellen and Maria deserve the credit for that," he said as he placed Maria's drink orders on a tray.

"They did a great job," Harvey said sipping his scotch. "First service, full throttle, the customers are all happy and the staff are all smiling. I've seen an entire staff of pro chefs, servers and managers all melt into crying oblivion on the first day of an opening. And those places ate up seven figure budgets to even get open. This is a real testament to you folks and your abilities."

Rob leaned on the bar for a brief moment. "Thanks Harv' that means a lot coming from you. It is going great so far. But I wish we had the money to go with it. Your 'all comped' suggestion leaves me paying for all this food. I keep thinking about it with every order and drink. It's got me shivering to see what the end cost is. But I admit, it did bring the right people in."

Harvey casually nodded his head towards a tall man and his fashion model looking date at a nearby table.

"See that fellow over by the window with the smoking hot blonde in pink?" he asked.

Rob glanced over, nodding.

"That's Aroldis Chapman. That guy pulls down eight mil' a year pitching for the Red's. I've been watching him and his girl grin from ear to ear over your food ever since we walked in. You get a few more people like him digging your joint, and you will have an enduring crowd from now on. Wait til' Joe Smoe public finds out Aroldis Chapman eats here... This little place will be six weeks deep in reservations... Then you can avoid the rubes and the coupon cutters by keeping your prices high, weed out the bad luck crowd and just cater to the real spenders."

Rob nodded. "That's Miguel's food he is eating, the recipe courtesy of his mother. I know it's the real deal and cooked to perfection. All I can hope for is good reviews and a steady flow of customers. I'm not trying to break any records here. We just want to make enough to live on you know?"

Harvey laughed. "Between the bar and those twenty five tables, you can pull down 20-30 grand a week this time next year, maybe more. But you have to appeal to the wealthy. Let the poor go to Chipolte, or El Rancho Grande or whatever else cheap bullshit. The key to success for the little guy is in catering to people with money. The trick is offering the over-the-top quality to match the over-the-top the price. You have that Rob, and that's all you."

Rob smiled. "I sure hope it works out like that," he said as he handed Ellen four more margaritas.

"You're off to great start," Harvey said. "I see one, two, three... five of the reviewers that were on the list. All of them look happy to me. By this time tomorrow, their posts will hit the blogs. That butch dike over there by the window will likely be posting hers as we speak. I will check her site out in a few, see what the bitch has to say."

Rob felt nervous about his food review being plastered about the Internet. "Would they understand how traditional it is with no reference? How could they? Would they realize everything was made from scratch, right down to the hand pressed tortillas?" He doubted they would, but he was hopeful that at least the freshness and flavor would win them over nonetheless.

The crowd raved to the servers about their food. The night's service went off without a hitch, nor a single complaint. With no bill, many of the diners left massive tips on the tables as they walked out smiling, waving goodbye to the staff. The only tables that didn't tip were a local blogger, and the Citybeat Magazine reviewer.

Ellen served both tables and couldn't have cared less about the impolite stiffing. She remembered the names. That's all that mattered. The associations would not be forgotten when the over-eager, cologne soaked ad salesmen came knocking later. With any luck there would be no need for ads anyway.

The dining room was nearly empty by ten. Only a few invited friends of Maya's were still eating when Rob told Miguel to start shutting down to the bare minimum. Miguel knew well how to run the kitchen during the last couple hours while simultaneously knocking out the closing duties. If all went smooth, they would be locking the door five minutes after the last customer left, done for the night.

As the last diners passed through the door, Rob clicked off the open sign. Ellen locked the door as Maria carried the remaining plates to the kitchen. The staff gathered around on the bar stools with Harvey and the Hooters girls. Rob poured shots across the bar top, and two virgin margaritas for Maria and Ellen.

Taking his own shot in hand, he stood tall atop an upside down ice bucket. Holding his drink out above their heads, he called for a toast.

"I'm not Irish, but I can appreciate their sentiment. So everyone take their drink in hand."

The small crowd gathered their glasses together, holding them out high fixated on Rob's next words.

"I got this one from Miguel. It's for Harv'... I think we all know he is to credit for the amazing crowd we had for our first night. This one is for you Harvey... The brain is gone, the liver's shot. But the liquor... we still got!"

In unison, they all shot the drinks into their mouths and cheered. Harvey laughed loudly, slapping his knee as the Jagermeister chilled his throat.

"Like I said, that one was for Harvey. A good soul who helped us kick off with the greatest opening night in town. We love ya old man."

Rob poured another shot for the staff as Harvey laughed, taking a big swig off his beer.

"I gotta' remember that one," he said with choked words.

Miguel and Armando took turns pouring shots out of a Mezcal bottle for one another. Maria and Ellen laughed at the scene as they sipped their virgin drinks. Harvey insisted Rob play music from his iPhone, at full volume. The Hooters Girls danced, the liquor flowed, and bottle after bottle clinked into the trash as the night wore on.

Armando lit his lighter, puffing a thick joint to life. He inhaled deeply, holding in his cough as he passed it to Harvey. With eyebrows high, Harvey leaned back to focus on the smoking spliff.

"Hey! Now we are talking. I love that shit," Harvey said as he reached out his fingers.

Puffing the joint to a bright cherry, he leaned close to blonde Hooters girl. Softly, he blew the smoke across her painted lips. She let out a laugh as she sucked in the smoke; her lips poised a fraction of an inch from his.

Laughter filled the room as the late night turned to early morning. They were lost in their own private party behind the locked doors. Amanda knocked at the door, waving to Armando through the glass. Fresh from her shift, she was still dressed in her Applebee's uniform.

Armando clicked the lock and pulled her in. After three fast shots, she took a cold beer, tossing off her apron. A slow dance song came on across the speakers. Armando pulled her close. With their drinks in hand, they moved to the middle of the room and started dancing.

Harvey dragged Rain off her stool and danced close to her beside them. Ellen looked at Rob. He hopped over the bar and took her hand in his, smiling as he pulled her close into the sway of the music.

Miguel and Maria were moving to music too, locked in a whispering embrace. Ellen noticed Maria wipe away tears as she leaned on Miguel's shoulder. Maria smiled when their eyes met from across the room, telling Ellen they were tears of happiness rather than distress. The moon shined bright on the city street. The staff was sunk deep into the joy of life by the time the clock clicked past two am.

"Last Call! You don't have to go home but you can't stay here!" Rob cried out from across the bar as he cut the music to a sudden stop.

"I'm not getting a violation on my first night. It's almost 2:30 folks, we gotta' finish up and shut this place down."

Harvey nodded in agreement as he sucked back the rest of scotch in one big drink. Without a breath, he grabbed his beer and swallowed it down too.

"Ladies..." he said, waving his hands in front of him in a circular motion. "I see... I see our future," he said, rubbing his fingers around an imaginary crystal ball. "It's got a soft bed... It's got a pool... It's a... It's... A hotel room! Lets call a cab," he said, as he fumbled his phone with one hand while rubbing Rain's firm bottom with the drunken fingers of his other.

Whispering with a giggle, Rain said something to her friend that caused her to laugh out loud. Harvey waved them quiet as he talked to the cabbie.

The Hooters girls chased their last shots with a cheer and another giggling whisper to one another as they rose off the stools. Harvey took one in each arm and walked to the door. Turning to Rob behind the bar, he paused at the doorway.

"See you tomorrow Anderson! This is my new favorite restaurant in town... and I haven't even tried the food yet."

Rob waved him a smiling goodbye as he washed the last few glasses.

"Some say I've got it coming... but I'm going to get it while I can," Harvey said as the door closed behind him.

Ellen locked the door as the trio stepped out to the street.

Walking back to the bar, she paused as she read over figures from the night's sales.

"If we would have collected the tabs... We would have took in... Seven thousand sixty hundred fifty three dollars," Ellen said as she read the sales total.

Rob shook his head. "Wow, at that rate daily... In a month we could be back in the black."

Miguel was kissing Maria hard against the wall. Amanda was rubbing Armando's pants under his apron. Sharing a laughing glance with Rob, Ellen clicked off the lights, cueing the couples to head home. As they made their way to the street, Rob waved goodbye as he took Ellen's hand.

"Thanks guys! You all rocked tonight. Tomorrow is a brand new day. The first day of real money at our place... See ya' in the morning!"

The crew yelled goodbyes as they stepped into the night. Walking up the steel stairs. Rob saw a look in Ellen's eyes. Tonight would finish with the most satisfying dessert of all. Walking in the apartment, they both headed straight to the bedroom with no conversation between them. Clothes were strewn across the floor on the way to the big poster bed.

Ellen fell into Rob's arms. She tasted the liquor on his lips as he kissed her. Turning atop her, Rob pushed her to the bed. With fast fingers, he found her womanhood. It was wet and waiting. They made love slow, then fast, then slow again. In the last seconds, he released every pent up tension and ounce of nervousness into her womb. With a collapsing gasp, he stared into her eyes. Sinking onto the bed beside her, his arms wrapped her in a warm comfortable embrace as they fell into a deep sleep together.

As Ellen dozen off, she thought about how just a mere ten days ago, their future seemed hopeless. Tonight, nestled in Rob's arms, the giddy high of the grand opening still singing in her mind, she realized life had taken a drastic turn.

The nightmare she felt about George had been transformed into a dream come true. Somehow, despite her valid anger at his actions, Ellen couldn't help but feel thankfulness towards George. In the last seconds before she fell asleep, she wondered where he was, who he was and what the future would bring. The feeling inside her on this magical night was more than she'd hoped for. Today had truly begun a Brand New Day.

Continued in Book 6
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?

