 
Brand New Day – Book Four: Trial By Fire

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 978-0-9972795-3-5

website – www.wrenrogersbooks.com

email –info@wrenbooks.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

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

More Books in the Series

Author Bio

Chapter 1

Nestled in their beds asleep in the chaotic frat house-like apartment; Ellen, Rob and Maria were deep in a dream by the time Miguel and Armando came home. Their loud thumping and laughing woke Rob as he heard them boisterously bust into the apartment.

"I might as well get up," Rob said to Ellen, who was too sleepy to reply. Rob needed to arrive at nine a.m. to help with the Bahama Bay rehab. His eight-dollar an hour pay was hardly worth the effort, but sales at The Pub were nowhere near enough to support them. The minimum wage work was necessary until the higher pay kicked in.

Eating a quick leftover prime rib breakfast, Rob sipped orange juice as he watched Miguel and Army squirm in their bedrolls on the stained carpet. They had offered their own rooms out of kindness. Now, Rob felt bad watching them as they slept contorted on the living room floor. He knew he needed to find place of their own for Ellen, Maria and himself, and soon. Without any promise of an income that could provide the funds, the prospect of a new apartment was still hopeless.

Stepping into the kitchen on the new Bahama Bay, Rob was dumbfounded. The dining room was being transformed at a rapid pace. Giant cardboard Corona signs, inflatable Parrots and fake surfboards sat stacked on the bar. Truck drivers were dragging in new equipment that looked oddly unfamiliar to him. Studying the stainless monsters, still wrapped in plastic, he wondered what kind of cooking processes he would be working with.

"They're real beauties aren't they?" Paul asked as he noticed Rob staring at the new equipment.

"What is this thing, a giant steamer?" Rob asked.

Paul patted the steam table on the side. "This is you're main vein right here!"

Rob looked around for the range. Where it had once been was now a conveyor oven.

"Is that a pizza oven?" Rob asked.

"Well, I suppose you could cook a good pizza in it. That's our conveyor oven. This oven has multiple conveyors that are each timed for different speeds. One speed is for shrimp and crab dishes, another beef and pork. It's fool proof. You simply count out the portions; place them on the correct conveyer and in minutes, perfectly cooked items come out the other side. It's impossible to over or under cook anything that we use this for. Between that, the fryer, the steamer, the sandwich press and the microwave, you won't need much else."

Rob was really confused as Paul proudly explained the process.

"Nearly 100% of our menu can be made with these four pieces of equipment. It's a great system. The food comes in from our Little Rock commissary. Everything is ready to go, partially pre-cooked, even the fried foods."

Rob couldn't believe his ears and eyes. "Pre-cooked? You mean we don't cook anything anymore, we just re-heat?"

Paul nodded. "In a way. It's the best way to achieve perfect consistency across all the company locations. Every dish will taste exactly the same, every time a guest visits us. Regardless which location, or whom is in the kitchen. Our commissary provides us with a consistent product every time. With the increased speed and efficiency of our preparation methods, we keep both the ticket times and the costs down to a minimum, increasing profits and table turn over."

Rob laughed. "Yeah, and the quality goes down to a minimum as well."

Paul didn't share the humor in Rob's remark. "Rob, we are a corporate company. We have a time tested and proven way of making profits. This is a more efficient way than you are used to. Give it some time and you will realize how much easier and faster our way is. We are relying on your expertise to oversee the processes and the staff. With less time behind the line, you can efficiently manage your team."

Rob wondered why they bothered to hire him as he scanned the near automated kitchen.

Paul walked to the office as Kim called his name from the door. Rob overheard her explaining something with great frustration. As he looked over towards them, Paul shut the door. After a few minutes, Paul came back out and went into the dining room, talking on his phone.

"Trouble in paradise?" Rob asked, as Kim stood watching the equipment being unwrapped. She shot him a forced smile then disappeared to the dining room without a reply. He knew something was wrong.

Helping the crew, Rob huffed heavy skids of stock into the kitchen until the late afternoon. He was considering leaving for the day to get started at The Pub, when he saw a group of people exiting a car in the valet parking. Suited in ties, four men walked into the restaurant. Saying nothing as they strode in, they made their way to the office. Kim and Paul crowded in with them and shut the door.

After a few minutes, they came back out into the kitchen. All eyes were on Rob as they stood side by side. Paul walked up to him. "Rob, I need you over here for a minute please."

Tossing his towel on the counter, he wiped his hands. "What's up?" Rob asked.

Paul looked at him dead seriously. "Do you know the password to the computer?"

Rob thought for a moment. "Yeah... Well, I think so."

After relaying the password, Rob noticed a suited man nod to Paul.

Turning to Rob, Paul placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're sure that's the only one," he asked.

"Yeah, there is only the one password. I'm not sure it works now though. I know it worked before. Ellen was looking at reports just last week."

Paul looked curious. "What reports was she looking at?"

Rob shrugged. "All of them I guess," he replied with a shrug.

The suited man dialed his phone as he walked out of the office. Paul looked at Kim, then Rob. "I would like to have a talk with Ellen. Could she come by today? I won't tie her up here long."

Rob looked at this watch. "We have important plans for tonight. I suppose she could come tomorrow, with me."

Disappointed, Paul turned back, speaking too low for Rob to hear to the group. Glancing at Rob he agreed, thanking him. "Great. Thanks Rob. We will meet here with her at nine tomorrow if that's possible."

Rob agreed as he clocked out. "No problem. We will see you tomorrow."

Paul smiled but Rob sensed something was seriously amiss. The men in the suits weren't smiling, and Kim had a look of terrible worry on her face. Rob wondered what the mystery was, but was in too much of a hurry to care about it at the moment. His thoughts were focused on getting to The Pub in time to get the dinner service started.

Preparing the menu at The Pub, Rob read off the description to Ellen. "Angus burgers on a brioche bun served with frozen slaw, $8. The special is... Blackened Rib Eye with mashed cauliflower, baked pinto beans and corn pudding, $13."

As she wrote, Ellen questioned the slaw. "Why not just serve fries?" she asked.

Half embarrassed, Rob shrugged. "I don't enough money to fill the fryer with good quality oil. It's too expensive for me right now. Besides, that slaw is awesome."

As the night progressed, the evening's crowd at The Pub was more receptive to the food this time around. The kitchen turned out triple the orders they had the previous night. Ellen served alone and almost found she was nearly rushing to keep up at one point.

Maria bussed to keep the heavy lifting off Ellen and the flow up to par. The biker beating was the hot topic of the night. Everyone who had witnessed the fight retold the tale to curious patrons, each time embellishing the details a bit more than the last. Ellen overheard excited diners and drinkers recounting the tale to eager listeners. As Maria bussed the tables, the customers would stare and point at her saying, "That's the Chinese chick that kicked that bikers ass last night. I heard she's a cousin of Bruce Lee. Her name is Maria Lee." Ellen nearly laughed out loud every time she heard one of them associating her sister with the legendary Chinese fighter.

As the clock clicked closer to midnight, Ellen had another rash of requests for half portions again. "Our service friends are here now. They want half price food again."

Rob dished out the portions as fast as Jimmy could keep handing him freshly washed plates.

"We need more plates!" Rob called out to no one in particular. "We only have a mere fifty or so good ones. This bussing, washing and re-using is tedious. What if we really get a lot of orders? We will run out of damn plates!" he exclaimed with frustration.

Miguel agreed. "We only have two more dinner plates left amigo."

Rob shook his head. "Damn. The minute we get going we have to slow down over plates. Miguel, start plating these half orders on these app plates. It's not like they are going to care anyway."

Carrying a tall stack of small plates from the back, Rob stacked the dishes next to the pass window.

After a brief flurry, the orders slowed to a crawl. The crew cleaned up as Maria and Ellen bussed the empty dishes from the dining room. Katie arrived and counted the food sales on the register. Carrying the cash back to Rob she smiled as she handed him the money.

"Almost two grand! I can't believe it," she said with pride. "Here's you're cut. This seems to be to working out great. Any thoughts on what we do when the free food runs out? I will invest in fresh stock, but I don't want to be throwing away rotting food like I did that last time we had this kitchen open."

Rob agreed. "Yeah, we need to keep it simple. A burger, wings, a few apps and a daily dinner special should work fine for now."

Katie leaned on the window. "All I know is I'm still reluctant to be putting out a thousand in dollars in food costs. I know you're a great chef and all, but I still have a fear over stocking up that kitchen."

He understood. Katie's Pub had never been a restaurant before. The idea of dropping ten dollars a pound for 45lb. cases of rib eyes would cause her concern.

Quickly calculating an offer, Rob shot her a fast reply. "I tell you what. When this food runs out. I will buy all the stock and keep splitting the profits with you. What do you say to 70/30 split our way, after food cost?"

Katie smiled. "He's not just a chef... he's a business man now isn't he?" she said with a laugh. "Just kidding Rob. I like that plan. I stay safe, and you stay motivated."

They shook hands on the deal. Rob knew it was good deal for the crew. With his job on the Bahama Bay disintegrating into a glorified Taco Bell position, he desperately needed a new direction. Right now, The Pub's kitchen was his best hope, not just for himself, but also for Ellen, Maria and his loyal cooks as well.

"We are outta here guys," Rob said, as he paid off the team. Maria stayed behind as Rob and Ellen waited for her to come with them.

"I will stay until closing tonight," Maria said.

Miguel walked up behind her, shaking her by her shoulders. "Don't worry amigo! We will get her home safe."

Ellen and Rob watched with concern as the cooks tugged Maria to the bar.

Martinez waved to them. "See you tomorrow guys. Don't worry about Maria, she's in good hands with us, or is it actually the other way around?"

Ellen laughed nervously as she turned to leave with Rob in hand. "I guess my sister is a bouncer now," she said with worry.

Rob shook his head. "I guess she is. Man I hope she doesn't kill somebody or something. She has a fake passport. God knows what will happen if she gets arrested and they figure that out."

Rob's comment had Ellen panicked. Running back into The Pub, she took Maria to a corner, talking to her in her most serious tone.

"Don't ever hurt anyone badly Maria. If you see cops, the police, you run out the back door and don't stop til' you get home, or go hide. Please, please don't hurt anyone bad Maria, you could be sent back to Vietnam or worse, to prison. I couldn't live with that, not after everything we have been through. I just worry that after all it took to bring you here..."

Maria hugged her and repeated her words. "Don't hurt anyone bad. If police come, I run! You don't have to worry. No one truly dangerous comes here. The only problems are just the drunk stubborn men. I have no fear of them. I have no need to kill."

Miguel saw them talking and came over with his beer. "You still here? You don't have to worry about Maria. She's one of us. Everyone in the bar loves her. We will protect her."

Ellen shot him a look. "She has a fake ID Miguel. She can't risk talking to cops no mater what. It's just not worth it."

Miguel laughed. "Sheet, I would love to have a fake ID, I have no ID at all. Neither does Army. We don't talk to cops either. We are used to eet. We will watch out for her. You go home. Go on, eets okay, everything will be fine."

Ellen left, but not without reservation. She hated the idea of Maria bar fighting into the wee hours of morning with drunken troublemakers. She had hoped to help her make a better life in America than the one she left behind in Vietnam. Her new job as the bouncer was not too different than her job on the drug boat. She was still fighting for pay, but without the automatic weapons or floating bloody bodies.

Back at Miguel's apartment Rob and Ellen counted their cash.

"Almost six hundred," Ellen said counting the last bill.

"Well, it's not broke but it's along way from enough for a new apartment," Rob said with a sigh. "We had over a thousand in cash on the Lady Jane. That bastard George sunk us completely."

Ellen nodded sadly. Rob looked at her as he remembered The Ship. "Ellen, the Harden people want you to come by tomorrow. They want to talk to you about the computer."

Ellen spun in her seat. "To hell with that. They can figure out their own computer."

Rob felt the same at heart, but even he was too curious to let it pass. "You should go. Find out what the deal is. They won't tell me anything."

She realized she really had nowhere else to be and was also interested in the mystery behind it all. She figured she might as well find out what they wanted and learn more of the mysterious story.

"I will go. But they have to get me a ride back home. I don't want to ride the bus and I don't plan on staying until five when you leave either."

Rob told her he would have Kim or Paul take care of her ride first thing when they arrived.

Sliding into bed, Ellen secretly hoped Rob would initiate another sexual encounter. Even though she was very inexperienced and still unfamiliar with any form of technique or skill associated with sex, her appetite for more was growing.

Ellen mentioned the subject casually. "The doctor said as long as I feel no pain or other symptoms I can go about my usual routine."

Rob didn't get the hint. "That's great. I was so worried that day," he replied.

She lay silent for minutes, her thoughts racked with uncomfortable images of her trying to attempt oral sex, or sex at all.

"Our routine was beginning to be pretty great... before the hospital, and the homelessness and all," she said enthusiastically.

Rob didn't want to re-live either of those memories. "You can say that again. We had a fabulous home, a little money, and good jobs. Now we have pretty much nothing."

Ellen wanted to burst out and tell him she longed for sex, but her shyness held her back.

"Well, we still have each other," she replied.

Agreeing, he hugged her. She whispered quietly. "The guys and Maria won't be home for hours... It's seems like so long since... Since we..."

Rob realized what she was hinting at before.

"Oh! So Miss Ellen wants some loving?" he said as he tickled her side causing her to turn towards him writhing in defiance.

"Stop it Rob. I don't want to be tickled," she said laughing. "I just wanted to..."

His hand stopped tickling her sides and slowly rose up around her breasts.

For days her sexual senses had been repressed. As the feelings manifested, Ellen grew more daring. Forcing her shyness into the background, she slid her hand along Rob's side. Her nails guided her fingertips under the waistband of his boxers. As her skin glided along his, she felt her hands begin to sweat. Embarrassed, she began to panic. Her breathing racing, she could feel her face grow hot and flush.

Nearly stopping from nervous fear, she paused briefly. Fighting through her swirling emotions, she reached deep, finding his manhood. Her warm hand wrapped around him. Almost instinctively she began to rub, slightly pulling him in her hand, tugging gently, then harder. The anxiety of her shyness, her embarrassment, her nervousness and her weight faded from the forefront of her emotions. Her awkwardness was quickly erased by passion. Her nervousness was replaced by desire. It was fueling her every move, her every thought. Every feeling was tuned in to the growing heat between her legs.

Ellen's rubbing was causing Rob to grow larger and harder in her hand. Ellen gripped his manhood with one hand while pulling his body onto her with the other. Crushing his chest onto her breasts, he moved in between her legs.

Pulling his shirt off over his head, Rob slid between Ellen's thighs. He looked into her eyes with a smile. Her longing shined through her gaze. Her eyes nearly glazed, she silently mouthed something to him he couldn't make out. Looking puzzled, she did it again, loud enough to hear this time. It was a milestone for her to overcome her embarrassment and say words like these aloud to him.

"I want you... I want to feel you now," she whispered as she stared into his eyes.

Reaching down to her intense wetness, he began to lightly rub her womanhood. Ellen pulled him closer to her heat.

"Don't tease me, just c'mon Rob," she whispered impatiently.

Wrapping his arms under her thighs, he stretched her legs back. Her knees almost to her ears, she was nervous, but ready.

Not having a free hand to align himself with, he pushed his tip against her blindly. Moving his waist up and down in an attempt to enter her intense heat. Ellen squirmed under him, desperate to end the teasing of his hardness. She arched her hips forward, her legs opened a few inches more, straining tendons and stretching muscles, she inched her heat closer to his manhood. They both gasped in unison as he suddenly slid in.

Her near-virgin tightness, coupled with her slick wetness, was a combination Rob knew would push him over the edge in seconds. Ellen pulled him into her by with both hands. Digging into him with her nails, she urged him on harder.

"Yes! That's what I... Just like... Oh my god..." She felt every nuance of him as he rocked into her. She could feel his girth swell, stretching her insides.

Waves of aching pain, mixed with searing pleasure washed through her from the inside out. Rob managed a better footing and pushed his body against Ellen. Leaning with all his weight into her strained legs, he hung his head, kissing her neck. She moaned louder as he took her ear lobe into his mouth. Sucking and biting lightly, the feeling began to push her over the edge.

Sensing her growing intensity, he desperately wanted to bring to her to a climax before he released his pent up frustration into her, he whispered into her ear.

"Ellen, rub it... Rub it now, I wanna' feel you... Hurry..."

Closing her eyes, she slid her hand down to her most sensitive spot. The wetness she found there amazed her, she was dripping wet.

Her finger slid into place and began to rub fast circles. The harder she rubbed the harder Rob thrust into her. They were rocking in unison, both counting down to the finish a half second at a time.

Ellen's big breasts were bouncing in time with Rob's thrusts. He drew his head nearer to them. He tried to mouth a nipple with his lips as it bounced past his face. Like a cat catching a mouse, the second time it passed, he bit down on it. Sinking his teeth into the soft flesh hard enough that it caused Ellen to cry out. Her hand moved even more rapidly now. Arching his back, allowing her more room, her rubbing fingers worked rapidly.

Her breathing changed from gasping to suddenly silent as she held her breath, biting her lip, then releasing and panting again. He knew she was close. He wanted nothing more than to feel her peak while still inside her, but he feared he couldn't hold on much longer.

Her fast finger work was paying off. She felt the addicting sensation of sudden heat rising from deep inside her. The electric sensation grew to an intense spasm as her womanhood let loose, sending the powerful orgasm shaking through her. Her fingers stopped, her breathing paused. Her eyes closed then widened as she felt Rob push deeper than before. Holding still, deep inside her, his face contorted, his arms shook, his eyes winced shut. Ellen pulled him closer, face to face, watching his eyes up close as he strained into her womb, pulsing hot inside her tightness. She could feel him throb inside her as he filled her with his long overdo release.

His arms, weakened from the pressure gave out under him. He collapsed on Ellen's breasts heaving deep breathes. She ran her nails along his back. As they lay still, she felt his hardness pulse several times again, a last attempt by his sub-conscience to impregnate her no doubt.

Sliding off to her side, Rob took a deep breath in an effort to recover from the super heated workout. Ellen dashed for a towel, stuffing it between her legs she tried to clean up in haste. Falling back on the bed, the two lay side by side, without a word spoken between them. In the comforting silence, they heard the front door open. It was Miguel, Army and Maria returning home from The Pub.

To weak to move, Rob lay still, listening as his roommates carried on in the front room.

"I told you we should have bought beer to-go at The Pub!" Miguel yelled at Armando. "Now we have nothing to drink except dees liquor. We don't even have a chaser."

Army shot back at him, "There is Mountain Dew from yesterday."

Miguel opened the fridge, shaking the wall as he slammed it shut. "Quit fooling with that x-box and roll that sheet up amigo," he yelled out to Army.

It was almost four a.m. yet Rob could hear that Miguel was still fueling his drunk and would likely stay up until dawn, or at least until the liquor was gone.

Still reeling in his powerful orgasmic high, he didn't really care about the commotion. But in his passing thoughts, he knew as much as he appreciated Miguel's hospitality, he was desperate to find an apartment very soon.
Chapter 2

Dawn came sooner than the sleeping lovers were ready for. Rob and Ellen felt as if they had hardly fallen asleep when the alarm went off at eight a.m. Waking, rubbing blurry eyes, they made their way sleepily around the room getting ready.

Stepping into the living room, Armando and Miguel were sprawled out on their bedrolls in a deep drunk sleep. Not disturbing them, they quietly made their way out the door. Just making the bus, Rob & Ellen took the first seat as the big diesel blew a black puff and lurched forward, bound for the waterfront.

As the bus stopped, they got off before it made it's way around the stadiums. Walking the last block, they talked about their living situation.

"Maybe my measly check from the Harden group, plus what we can manage to save from our Pub split will get us a new place when I get paid," Rob said.

Ellen knew it would be a while before they had enough money to move. "We will just have to make the best of it. I love Miguel, and Army. But they are so crazy. Drinking until dawn every night, spending all their money on drinks at the Pub, smoking pot for breakfast, it's happy hour every hour with those two."

Rob laughed. "That's the cook's life. 99% of all kitchen workers and servers drink or smoke their pay away on a daily basis. That's why they rarely ever have driver's license, or move on to a better job, or a home, or a newer car. Burns, beer, booze and babes. That's about it."

Ellen shook her head. "I don't see why, but seems so true. Every cook I have ever known sprinted off from work straight to a bar or party. And they are all stoners too. Well, every cook except you." She squeezed him with one arm.

"I had my share of those days too. I may still be locked into that world if... If I hadn't become so close to you," he replied.

Ellen hugged him. "We could move now if George didn't leave with all our money and stiff us on our pay."

Rob nodded. "Or if your hundred grand wasn't stolen by the bastards in Vietnam."

Ellen hung her head. "Don't even bring that up. I never think about that. I can hardly bear the thought of what we could do with that money now. That was my dad's inheritance to me... It was all for nothing... Nothing!"

Rob regretting bringing it up, he could see it made her really upset. "It wasn't for nothing. You have Maria here with you now. I'm sure to her it was every penny."

Ellen smiled up at him. "There is no one who can make me feel better than you."

They walked onto the Bahama Bay though the side door. A group of men were standing in the office. Ellen barely glanced at them, her eyes scanning the kitchen in surprise.

"Wow! This place looks huge. Where are all the stoves and the rest of the equipment?"

Rob hushed her. "This is the equipment. It's all for reheating," he said with a whisper.

She shot him a frown and a scowl. "What the... Why?" He waved her quiet as the group turned their attention towards them.

"You must be Ellen," Paul said, holding his hand out.

"I am," she said smiling.

"I'm Paul and this is Kim. I am hoping you can help us with an issue we just discovered yesterday."

Ellen looked curious and nervous at the same time. "I hope I can help."

Paul and Kim looked at each other, then to Ellen, and back to one another.

"Do you want to explain? Or should I?" Kim asked Paul.

"You go ahead, it's your expertise," Paul replied.

Kim motioned Ellen into the office. Sitting at the terminal she logged in, then pointed to the screen.

"Here's as far as I can get. Everything is devoid of entries past the login screen. Is there something I'm missing or is there another password?"

Ellen leaned over to the keyboard. Typing in Sandy's password she was presented with the same blank screen again. "Hmmm. Can I sit there for a minute?"

"Sure," Kim said changing places with Ellen.

One by one, Ellen clicked every report link, every administrative option on the terminal. After no results, Ellen started a test ticket. The group turned to the open door as they heard the printer buzzing behind the line.

"Well. It's all working right, but it's like nothing has ever been entered in the past. Like it's a fresh software install... Or it has all been... deleted."

Kim and Paul watched with serious faces.

"So, we have no records from the past?" Paul asked.

"It looks like they are all gone," Ellen replied softly as she kept trying to access any data.

Paul whispered to Kim, then she left the office.

"When was the last time you logged into this computer?" Paul asked Ellen as she typed.

Her fingers stopped still. "Last week..." she replied cautiously.

Paul patted her shoulder. "I am just trying to establish a time line. If there is an investigation we will need all the facts."

Ellen didn't like the sound of his words. "Investigation? Who would be investigating?" she asked.

Paul shrugged. "Our attorneys, and possibly the prosecutor's office. We purchased The Ship with stipulations in the contract regarding ownership of all Ship records and sales data. If it's been deleted intentionally, that's not just a breach of contract, that's a crime."

Ellen's eyebrows rose. "It doesn't seem like you need the old data, now that you have a new concept and all, but obviously it's a real concern to you guys."

Paul explained. "We based our appraisal and many other factors on that data. We were assured by the documents and reports George presented to us this business was both profitable and busy. Now, we have no records to support that for corporate. My boss is going to be livid. Legal will be looking into this immediately."

Ellen knew she had the reports they were looking for, but she was far from willing to reveal any of her secret information.

Paul calmed her fears. "We won't jump to any conclusions just yet. We need the tech office to examine this computer's hard drive."

Ellen considered mentioning the printed reports she was studying. But she saw no use in stirring up questions when none could be answered anyway. Not to mention, in the back of her mind, she realized she still felt a strange loyalty to George, even though he had caused her and Rob so much distress.

"I hope you get it all figured out," Ellen said as she stood up from the desk. "If you don't need anything else from me I suppose I will call a cab back home."

Paul thanked her and told her to wait in the lobby. "I will call a cab for you. There are drinks in the coolers in the lobby. Help yourself until the cab arrives," he said, handing her fifty-dollars.

"Wow. Thanks Paul. I really appreciate that."

He smiled. "No problem. I needed you to tell us if we were just making a silly mistake, or if we were facing a real problem. You helped with that very well."

Ellen shrugged. "I wish I could have been of more use." She thanked him again as she left for the lobby.

Rob followed her as she walked outside. "What's the big deal?" he asked.

"They wanted me to log in and see if my password would get them in," she replied with a knowing look.

Rob looked puzzled. "Did it?"

Ellen looked around the room before answering quietly. "Yeah... It all works. But it's been wiped out. There is nothing left. No reports on sales, profit & loss, wages, taxes, inventory, nothing. It's all been erased."

Nodding, Rob agreed. "Charley said that same exact thing the day she left. She was super pissed. Looking back, I guess George wiped it out the night he disappeared."

Ellen raised one eyebrow. "Does that mean she wasn't involved?"

Rob wondered as well. "No one has seen or heard from Charley since the day after George left on the Lady Jane."

Ellen looked around nervously. "Paul said there would be an investigation. I think they are going to call the cops. If Charley is still around, she may be sorry here soon."

Rob shook his head as he thought about it. "Not my problem. My twenty seven hundred dollar paycheck is gone. Miguel, Micah, Army and Maria all lost their checks as well. No one cared to call the cops about that. These guys are just as shady as George, but in a different way. Kim blew me off when I asked about our checks, and again when I first asked about my new wages. I don't trust any of them."

Ellen shrugged. "What are you going to do? You can always quit."

Rob agreed. "After Paul explained the way things work around here today I will, but right now, even this Taco Bell money is better than none until I find a better job. I've been asking other chefs who come into The Pub about a job, I asked Harvey too. No one is hiring for my level of position. Sometimes I wish I were back in New York. Chefs are in demand there."

Ellen poked his side. "And what about me Mr. New Yorker?"

He hugged her. "You would go with me of course. Maria too. You both would love New York. There is a large Vietnamese community there, authentic restaurants, shops and everything."

She pondered the notion of moving to New York. "I always hear it's very expensive though."

He laughed. "It's damn expensive. You think it's hard to get a place here under a grand. In New York, we would need five grand. It's super expensive. Food, groceries, cabs, everything is much higher than here."

"Then why would you want to go back there?" Ellen asked.

Rob stared out the big glass windows as he answered. "Because it's so alive. It's nothing like here, this is a quiet cornfield compared to New York. Plus, chefs earn good money there. I could make a 100 grand a year."

Ellen saw the far off look in his eyes. He occasionally talked about his years in New York, always with fondness and longing.

"If you want to go back I will go," she said, rubbing his back. "Maria will go too I'm sure. We have no one here, no reason to ever come back. It's your call. I will do my best to make it happen if you want to move. We don't exactly have much to lose."

Rob felt a wonderful excitement in stirring in him. "I never really thought about it before. Maybe we should go!"

She watched as his face lit up with enthusiasm, then quickly fall to a scowl.

Hanging his head, he doubted he could pull it off. "We don't have near enough money. To even go for a weekend to apply for jobs would wipe us out. This poor-dum we are in ruins everything."

The cab rolled up to the front doors. Ellen hugged Rob. "It will work out. I just know it. You just have to have faith."

As she left for home, Rob returned to the kitchen. The staff was unwrapping dishes and utensils from large boxes that had just been wheeled in. Joining in on the task, he helped unload the boxes, but his imagination was running wild with thoughts and images about moving back to the Big City.
Chapter 3

Fixated by the notion of moving, Rob continued the day in near silence. At five, he clocked out and went straight to The Pub. Walking in, he saw diners eating wings at several tables. Scanning the tables, he realized nearly everyone was eating or had empty plates on their table.

In the kitchen, Miguel was tossing more wings in buffalo sauce.

"Amigo. Today is even better than yesterday! Army and me, we came in at eleven, to serve lunch. I stopped and bought some chicken wings. I think we sold about thirty orders so far."

Rob was amazed. "That's awesome! Any ideas on the dinner special?" he asked as he opened the walk-in door.

"Yeah," Miguel replied. "Army can go get bread, salad and fresh tomatoes for sauce. We already have flour, eggs and a box of king crab from The Ship. We should sell that crab ravioli you make. That sheet ees good amigo."

Rob pulled the box of king crab from the cooler. "I will this crap prepped. Tell Army to get that stuff plus scallions, spinach and Parmesan, a wedge of cheese, not the canned kind. We have all we need to make the dressing here."

Miguel helped Rob steam the crab as Armando left for the market.

"I'm thinking we gonna' make-a some good money tonight. Eets Friday, the nine-to-fivers will pay for full meals you know."

Rob nodded. "Hell yeah, we need some good money. I don't plan to mooch a room off you forever. I need to put together enough for an apartment."

Miguel laughed. "Me casa su casa amigo. But I know what you mean, everybody needs a place of their own."

Cleaning with intensity, Rob sterilized the large stainless tabletop. Mounding flour in the center, he cracked eggs, mixing them in by hand. Working the dough just enough to form it, he fed it into a pasta machine. Thick ribbons of fresh pasta were pressed thinner with each pass through the rollers. Laying them gently out on the table, he carefully placed spoonfuls of the crab mixture in the center. Cutting each ribbon by hand, he folded the dough and pressed the crab filling into place. A final cut sealed the square and trimmed the excess.

"We will do eight per portion. That should give us about.... thirty servings," Rob said.

Miguel watched with hungry eyes. "How much should eet be? That sheet ees so good."

Rob remembered it was $39 on The Ship. "I'm thinking... eighteen? Nineteen maybe. We should keep it under twenty."

Miguel worked silently as he did the math in his head.

"Amigo, if we sell all thirty at eighteen, that's $540 right?"

Rob agreed as he worked more dough.

Miguel went on. "Well, what if we portioned four to an order and charged ten. That would give us sixty portions instead of thirty, and we would make $600 instead of $540."

Rob thought about it. "Really? Just four? That's a small entree."

Miguel shot right back enthusiastically. "Yeah but dees ees a pub. People keeping asking for half priced half portions late at night. We should just make them all half portions, every night. Eets cheaper to buy so more people will buy eet. With bread and salad eets still a good meal."

Rob knew it was true. People had been asking for smaller portions to get a discount every night so far. "I say we go with your plan and see how it works out. So it's four to an order at ten bucks."

Miguel nodded, smiling. "With a salad and good bread too. That's a deal my friend, people will buy eet, you will see."

Looking up, Rob saw Armando return with the groceries. "Army. Start on the salad then rub that bread with soft butter and this seasoning. Wrap it and put it in the oven on warm. Wash those greens good. And don't forget to dry them. You have to dry them or the dressing won't bind. It will all end up on the bottom of the plate."

Rob's fingers flew through the raviolis, folding with one hand while cutting with the other. In no time he had the entire batch ready to boil.

Setting up the sign out front, Ellen wrote the crab ravioli special in big bold letters on the blackboard. "Fresh King Crab Ravioli. Served with salad and bread. $10." It read in large letters under the description. She walked to the pass window checking on the crew's progress. "It sure is cheap. It smells awesome too."

Rob handed her a small plate. "Try it. I think it's better than before somehow."

Ellen forked a ravioli in half. It steamed as she blew on it. Seconds after her first taste, she began to nod in agreement.

"It is better. I loved this dish on The Ship. This version is better."

Rob watched her as she savored her food. "I stripped it down to save money. It's just crab chunks, parmesan and fresh herbs," he said as he whipped his dressing in a bowl.

"It's awesome. It's bright and fresh. The sauce is terrific," Ellen said as she savored the flavors.

Miguel turned towards her. "I made-a the sauce!"

Rob pointed at him. "That's true. That sauce is pure Miguel. I loved it just as is, I didn't change a thing."

Ellen twisted off a piece of bread and wiped the last bit of sauce off her plate. "You did good Miguel. You can sure tell this isn't some canned sauce."

He smiled proudly. "Chef taught me. I've been watching close you know. I can do eet now. Eets all about seasoning slowly then re-seasoning at the end. Right chef?"

Rob agreed. "That and fresh ripe tomatoes. You did great. I love it."

Ellen took her empty plate to the dish room. "I think the people in this bar will freak out when I bring this out to them. For ten bucks... I'd buy one myself. Anyone would be a fool to buy pizza or fast food when they could get this for the same price."

Rob shrugged. "Let's hope so, we have sixty portions of it."

The crew had the Pub's kitchen in good shape. Everything was clean and organized. The walk in was sorted, dated and labeled. Rob wiped his hands on a towel. "Okay, everything is in place. You hear that Army? Everything in its place. That's how we work smart."

Armando was finishing the salad. Bringing over the big tub he held it low for Rob to see.

"Looks good. That's the way we want it, nice and clean and dry. Stow it the walk in until we need it."

It wasn't a half hour before Ellen came to the pass. "Three specials, two well burgers and one wing," she called out to the cooks.

"Well done? Damn, I hate to see dees good sirloin cooked to hell," Miguel said as he patted out the meat.

"You're sounding like a true chef over there my Mexican friend," Rob teased. "Pat them thinner than usual when people order it well done. It will cook to the center faster but still stay juicy."

Miguel squished the meat on the cutting board before slapping the patties on the grill. Dusting them with seasoning, he shrugged at the sizzling beef. "We do eet they way they want eet. Just like Burger King!" Miguel jested.

Rob shook his head. "Yep, that's what they advertise, but they still won't do it my way."

Before Rob could place the first order in the window, three more followed, then four. "We're off to good start. Let's hope the flow keeps rolling," Rob said as the crew flew through the orders.

Ellen noticed the diners were leaving her amazing tips. Not a single complaint had to be addressed. Every time she went to a table she was met with compliments and rave reviews over the scrumptious food. The customers were leaving her twenty-five, forty and even fifty percent tips.

"Best damn burger I've had in a while. It might even be better than Terry's. That frozen slaw is awesome too," one diner said as Ellen cleared his wiped clean plate. "You know what. I'll have another to take home for my wife. She thinks Terry has the best, I want her to try yours."

Ellen took the plates back and called out the orders. "That last burger is to-go by the way. He wants one for his wife. He says they thought Terry's Turf Club was the best and now he wants her to try yours," she instructed.

Miguel and Armando high-fived. "Competing with the almighty Terry! We doing good amigo! They loving' eet," Miguel yelled out to Rob.

Katie walked in with guests, taking a seat in her corner table. Ellen greeted them and was beginning to describe the special when Katie cut her off.

"Just bring us the special Ellen. I already know it's good. I've eaten here every night since Rob started. I used to never even come here until closing. Now I come early, looking forward to seeing what's on that blackboard out front. I'm an addicted fan of my own place. I never thought I would hear myself say that."

Ellen thanked her with a smile.

"Four more specials, for Katie and friends," she called out through the window.

Rob looked through the pass. "Katie's here again? I used to never see her around here before. She always breezed in and out at the end of the night.

Ellen laughed. "She says she loves the food. I mean she loves it."

Rob shrugged. "It's the same food we served on The Ship. She should have come by before it closed."

Ellen smiled at him coyly. "Yeah but now regular working people can afford it. I think we likely have the best pub grub in town."

Rob looked concerned. "Yeah but we only have two menu items and a special. That's not exactly impressive."

Ellen shrugged. "No one seems to care. But you need something for veggie customers. A few people asked me about veggie options."

Miguel overheard her. "They like-a no meat? I can make some of Mamma's tamales. She makes dees ones with just-a spinach. We love them and we all eat meat."

Armando shouted out from the back. "Oh I love those too! You're mamma makes em' so good."

Ellen's face lit up. "I would love to try that. I've been avoiding eating meat since I left the hospital. Tamales smell so great but they always have meat in them."

Miguel nodded at her. "Not in Mexico. We eat whatever we have man. Sometimes, we have-a no meat. We use other good things... all vegetable. I will bring you some. They're the best. You will see."

Handing the food through the pass, Rob noticed a familiar face walk in the door. "There's Harvey," he said to Ellen as she stacked the plates on her arm. "Make sure he tries the special. Don't mention charging him."

Ellen smiled over at Harvey as she took the orders out to the guests. Walking up to his table she greeted him by name. "Well hello Harvey. Back to eat with us again so soon?"

He looked at her with suspicion. "I don't seem to recall... What is your name again?"

Ellen laughed. "I'm Ellen. I served you just the other day. Remember... The prime rib dinner?"

Harvey looked lost. Rubbing his face, he laughed. "I remember eating some fucking fantastic beef here yes. But you... I'm sorry, but I don't remember you."

Maria walked by with a pitcher of water. Filling Harvey's glass, he watched her. He pointed as she walked away. "I do remember her though! Wow what a night. I tell everyone about that night. They don't even believe me. I wish I had a video. I swear I watched that cute little Chinese chick beat some big ass biker out cold. I mean with a quickness too man. She fucked him up bad. It was like watching Bruce Lee's sister or something."

Proudly smiling, Ellen explained. "That's not Bruce Lee's sister, that's my sister."

He laughed hard as the scene replayed in his mind. "Ah that was a riot! You have a hell of a sister there. So, what has Rob got for me tonight? I always come here to drink, now I have to fucking eat too. That slows my buzz down, but I want some of whatever he is cooking back there anyway."

Ellen explained the dish. "Tonight we are serving a foursome of ravioli, stuffed with king crab and sauced with a fresh tomato and basil marinara with a hint of smoked jalapeño. Salad dressed in fresh made poppy seed honey mustard, and garlic butter bread accompany."

Harvey raised his eyebrows. "That sounds quite appetizing. What do you mean a foursome?"

Ellen held up four fingers.

"Four... ravioli?" Harvey asked, patting his bulging belly. "Do I look like a four ravioli kind-a guy to you? I'll take two orders, but hold the salad and bread. I'm not about to start thinking healthy."

Ellen laughed as he held out three fingers. "And I'll have a triple shot of... Well, maybe later. Just bring me a Yuengling on tap for now."

As she turned to walk back to the kitchen he yelled at her. "Ellen! A tall Yuengling. The big glass. Wait... Make it a pitcher."

"No problem," she replied as she made her way to the pass.

"He wants two specials and no salad or bread," she explained.

Rob nodded. "I will plate him a full order of eight."

Ellen didn't have to wait long. Rob placed the plate in the window in under five minutes. Making certain the presentation was spot on.

"You really try to impress that guy," Ellen said as she watched him carefully wipe the edges of the plate.

"He runs a multi-million dollar steak house eight minutes from here. Ball players and stars eat there daily. He's coming to here and eating our food... You better believe I will try my best to make an impression."

Ellen laughed. "He seems like a drunk, nice, but really drunk."

Rob shook his head at her. "You have no idea. That guy starts drinking at noon. He comes here to get slathered, slammed, piss drunk. And if he picks up some sweet young server tail in the process, all the better. I'm surprised he even eats at all when he's here. He's been divorced four times, makes like three grand a week, he can eat anywhere he wants... and has. He hangs out with the Bengals and the mayor. He's a legend in this business."

Ellen looked at him with excited eyes. "Maybe he can get you a job."

Rob laughed. "Uh yeah, why do you think I make every effort to impress him? Thing is, Jeff Ruby pulls all the strings on hiring the chefs. And unlike Harvey, he is a straight dick."

Ellen shrugged. "You don't know Rob. He might like you."

Rob laughed. "Yeah, I bet he would. He acts like a tough New York type, but I heard from several other chefs that have worked for him that he's secretly gay."

Ellen waved him off. "Who cares? Gay, straight, bi, whatever. If he offers you a job interview you should take it."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "Easy for you to say. What if Sandra rubbed your butt all sweet like every time she walked by you? What if she suddenly butched out one day, cornered you in the pantry, pinning you against the shelves and manhandled your big titties? Yeah! What then? Think about it."

Ellen frowned. "That's ridiculous Rob. Just because he's gay doesn't mean he wants to run up and rub you. Well, maybe he would... after all you do have a great..." She laughed as she took the order from the window.

"Not funny Ellen..." She heard him say as she walked off with Harvey's steaming order.

As dinner hours click by, the orders continued rolling out. By eleven, they were running down to the last few portions.

"Looks like we may actually run out," Rob said to Miguel as he plated three more specials.

"Good. I hope-a we do. That will make them want eet more next time. We have plenty of burgers and wings for the late night crowd."

Rob commented on the wing sauce. "By the way Miguel, that buffalo sauce is wicked. What did you put in that?"

Miguel grinned slyly. "Mexican secret! I just-a kidding. Eets just butter and Frank's simmered with a few dried smoked chipotle peppers. I put them in whole and pull them out when eets done, they are just for flavor. Just like I did with the pasta sauce. I just used a lot more."

Rob spooned some of the spicy wing sauce onto his tongue. "Fantastic Miguel. It's pure traditional Buffalo, but with a deep smoky kick at the end the end to let you know it's got a little something special. I love the depth and subtlety, very well done."

Miguel beamed with pride.

Soon, the diners bought up all the specials, plus more orders of burgers and wings. As the clocked clicked past midnight, Rob looked at this watch. "I gotta' go man. I have to be up early and all. You don't need me here anymore anyway."

Miguel looked out the window at the crowd. "Eets almost time for the late night server crowd to come in. Army and me, we cook until they quit buying. I see you tomorrow amigo. I bring your money home."

Rob hugged Miguel with one arm. "See you tomorrow amigo. That sauce is bound to make those wings famous around here, watch and see!"

Maria stayed behind to keep an eye on the crowd and help the kitchen crew. Rob and Ellen made the most of their alone time in the apartment. Ellen didn't have to worry about initiating sex. She came out of the shower, still drying her hair, nude under her towel as Rob nearly attacked her.

Throwing her to the bed, he slung her towel against the wall, pushed her down on the bed, pinning her hard. Like a man freshly released from prison, he seized her with both arms, wasting not a single second on foreplay. Pushing deep in her, she felt her legs strain as he stretched them back towards her head.

Her eyes closed, her body rocked on the squeaking bed as he pushed her to her limit. Again and again, he stretched her with his over-heated manhood. With a loud guttural grunt followed by a deep sigh, he fell on her heaving chest.

"God you feel so good! I need you every night," he said through his panting breath.

"Yeah, you and me both," Ellen replied under his weight.

Sirens screamed through the windows as police cars and ambulances rushed past the apartment. The sudden sounds caused Ellen to worry about Maria. "I can't stop thinking about Maria," she said to Rob with sadness in her voice. "I have you and we are making our way together, but Maria has no one but us. She knows nothing of America except that dirty bar. It's crazy. She's a nice girl. She needs to do something good with her new opportunity here. I want to try to help her but I have no help for her, I need help myself."

Rob understood. "I know. I think about it too. My only consolation is in the fact that I doubt anyone that comes in will ever lay a hand on her. For one, she's damn dangerous. For two, every guy in that place is obsessed with her now. She's like the bar's mascot. Maybe we can all hold on until something better comes along."

Ellen agreed but still had her reservations. "I know, but someone might try to hurt her. Drunk people will do anything. People who don't know her are not going to take her seriously either."

Rob looked at Ellen with arguing eyes. "Hurt her? If anyone tried that they would be in for a big surprise. She's a serious bad-ass Ellen. She's has a deadly level of experience. Look what she did to that huge biker. If he couldn't hit her, none of these idiot drunk asses around here are ever going to get close enough to even touch her. If someone ever corners her, God help them. I feel sorry for anyone she decides to cut loose on. I truly do."

Ellen pushed him in the ribs. "That's what I am afraid of Rob. What if she kills someone? What then?"

Laughing, he tickled her ribs. "Then we will have to bury the body and lay low. This is Newport, do you have any idea how many bodies the mob buried around here back in the day?" He laughed, but she stayed stoic.

"Not funny Rob. She's my only family. She's not much better off here being a bouncer than she was back in Vietnam. I have to help her somehow."

Kissing her neck, he whispered as he rubbed her belly. "Well... Not your only family..."

She kissed him back smiling as they settled into a cuddle under the covers. He held her tight in the darkness.

"I'm pretty sure Maria is the last person you have to worry about. She's survived a lifetime of hell, hard times and the devil himself. Somehow, she came out of it all a good person. She will be fine."

Ellen felt comfortable and warm in his embrace. She wondered how she could truly help Maria leave behind her skills as a fighter as she slowly fell asleep.
Chapter 4

Six hours of sleep was little relief as the alarm rang out across the room. Sleepily getting ready, Rob whispered Ellen a quick goodbye as she woke from her sleep. Dashing out, he left by taxi across the river to the Bahama Bay.

On arrival, he found the side door locked. Walking around to the lobby, he saw Paul at the hostess desk. "Good Morning Rob," Paul said. Holding out an envelope, he looked at Rob with a solemn face. "I hate to tell you this, but legal has started an investigation. For now, all staff carried over from The Ship must to be kept off the premises. I have your check here. It's nothing personal towards you, I really look forward to having you running the kitchen when we have all this settled."

Rob was deflated. "Damn!" he replied loudly. "Crap money for days... I only did it to pay my dues and move on to the real work. Kicking me out now is like a slap in the face. I ended up broke and almost homeless over this Ship business. I work here during the day, then work at night too, all night, just to make ends meet. Coming here huffing equipment and scraping drains for minimum wage wasn't for money, it was for the long haul."

Paul put an arm around Rob. "I understand, I do. And I appreciate your efforts too. This will all be over shortly. Just hang in there. You have the talent and drive to move up to high level careers with Harden, perhaps even our test kitchen. Try to understand, I have to go by the rules sent down from corporate. It's out of my hands."

Rob opened the envelope. "Two twenty four," he said under his breath as he read the numbers. Speaking louder, he held out the check to Paul. "Two hundred and twenty four dollars... for a weeks worth of work. Full time, that's like a grand a month," Rob said looking at the check.

Paul frowned. "It's just temporary pay... You will have a salary..."

Rob cut him off. "Bullshit! Most of the people on hourly here will get a check like this forever and never see more. Miguel, Army, Maria, they would all work hard for some bullshit check like this from now on and you know it."

Paul backed away in nervousness. "Rob, I know you're upset but please remember..."

Rob cut him off. "Remember what? That you swooped in here backed by your billion-dollar restaurant group and work these guys like indentured servants until your profit margins are high enough to earn you a five grand bonus? A vacation in Tahiti maybe? While they slave and suffer. Living in some shit ghetto apartment for the rest of their lives."

Rob stood staring as he felt his skin turn hot. Fighting mad, he continued spewing his onslaught of ranting. "And I will tell you something else... Your re-heated commissary food is crap. Sure this isn't New York, but people here will still realize your food is a joke. How the hell are you going to serve everything from a bag or a box and expect people to crave it in their sleep? It's one step above Taco Bell bullshit. They don't cook, and neither do you. I wouldn't pay a Canadian dime for it. You did me a favor today. I'm damn glad I'm not going to be part of it."

Paul looked offended as Rob stared at him with angry eyes. "Rob. You're upset. Please go and we will talk about this when the time comes. I understand your frustration but..."

Cutting him off, Rob laughed. "The time has already come. It's time for me to leave. I don't know why I stayed so long after I saw what crap... Goddamn money, that's why. I have to believe in something. Otherwise I will end up working at place like... A place like this! Fuck it. I'm done. Thanks for nothing, find another stooge to microwave your food."

Walking out the lobby doors for the last time. The Ship, the Bahama Bay, whatever it was called now, was nothing more than a past chapter in his life.

Storming across the parking lot, turning to the sidewalk, Rob didn't bother to hail a cab. He felt enraged, enlightened, furious and fabulous, all at the same time. Part of him was embarrassed at his behavior, the other part was proud. As if a weight had been lifted, he felt light enough to skip all the way home, like a stone across the water.

A car slowed to a crawl beside him. "Rob Anderson!"

Rob looked over to see who was calling his name. It was Carl in his yellow cab. "Climb in my man. Why the hell are you walking, are you trying to lose weight or something?"

Rob laughed as he slid inside.

"Haven't seen you since the hospital incident. How's Ellen recovering," Carl asked, looking into the rearview mirror.

Rob gave him the cliff notes from the last few days.

"You two will do good," Carl said with a smile. "I know it because I see more losers than the winners. I can see the difference right off. The losers expect something for nothing. They think they deserve something just for being alive. The winners struggle, fight, bleed and suffer in order to make it happen. It's easy to give in and abuse the world, take what you want at someone else's expense. But it never works out for long. It's harder to maintain your integrity and still move on ahead. But you have to if you want to make it in the long haul."

Rob shrugged. "I dunno' Carl. I just dunno' anymore."

Carl laughed. "Of course you do! That's why you're so upset. You do know, because you do care. I've looked into the eyes of dopers and the killers in this mirror. They don't care about a single thing. Cole black eyes, like a shark, no feeling inside. No anger, no love, nothing. Just cold as a stone."

Rob relaxed in the back seat. "Everything is so damn hard. I keep getting screwed no matter how hard I try."

Carl laughed. "Now, leave Ellen out of this." he joked, making Rob smile. "By the way, before we get too far, where are you headed?"

"Home I guess, just drop me at the Kroger please," Rob replied.

Walking up to the sad apartment with a few groceries, Rob saw Maria hanging clothes in the breeze off the patio railing. Wearing a thin white cotton dress, she looked sweet and peaceful. Her hair tossed in short tangles fresh from the shower. He watched as she flung wet towels, draping them over the edge.

Stepping inside, he saw Miguel and Army lying on the floor, just coming awake with squinting eyes. Maria walked back in, stepping over Miguel. Rob could see Miguel's eyes widen as she crossed over him, affording him a view up her dress.

Miguel's eyes shot fully open in a look of awe as he stared up. Shooting a quick glance at Rob, his face turned to red embarrassment as their eyes met. Rob gave him a hard stare of disdain. Rob silently mouthed the word "No" and pointed as Maria passed on by unaware of what had just happened. Miguel turned his head back to the pillow, closing his eyes, as if suddenly returning to sleep.

Rob found Ellen dressing in the bedroom. "What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised to see him back so early.

"Never mind. You need to tell your sister not to walk around with nothing on but a skimpy dress. Miguel was just staring up under her dress from the floor. I can only imagine what he saw but I already know what he was thinking."

Ellen looked out the bedroom door. Miguel was still in a sleeping posture on his bedroll.

"He's sleeping. She didn't mean anything... "

Rob cut her off. "I'm telling you! Explain to her... All clothes on outside her room. Something is going to happen if she keeps walking around like that. Sooner or later, one of the two of them is going to try to get her into bed. Do you want to see her pregnant and really fuck up her life?"

Ellen looked at him angrily. "Why? Is that how you feel? Do you feel me being pregnant is a bad thing? Tell me the facts Rob. Is this what you really want?" she asked pointing to her belly. "Did I fuck up my life?"

Rob stared at her confused, not knowing what had just happened. "I didn't mean that you... "

Ellen cut him off. "Then what did you mean? 'You want to see her pregnant?' That sounds a lot like you think pregnant is a bad thing to me Rob."

Kicking his shoes across the room, he fell onto the bed. "Fine! Don't do anything. I take it back. It will be awesome if another illegal immigrant impregnates Maria, an illegal immigrant with a fake passport, after a drunken madcap. Then he ditches her two days later for a Hooter's hottie. Just awesome. It's exactly the same as when I impregnated you isn't it? Remember the night? The night in Vietnam, at the hotel? That's when it likely happened."

Ellen's anger turned to slight embarrassment. She was amazed that Rob had thought about the conception in such detail he pinpointed exactly the moment it occurred.

Slightly calmed, Ellen slid under the sheets beside him. "I'm sorry. I will tell her. She trusts Miguel. She told me so. I don't think she will grasp the whole concept of the promiscuousness that permeates all who enter that smelly pub. But I will try my best to explain."

He held her close. "That's all I ask." Rob said. "These guys are hard living line cooks. They're not the man she's been dreaming of. They feed on girls for fun. She's fit and pretty. She's a perfect target for them. I just don't want to see her get hurt."

Holding him in her arms, Ellen was delighted in the feeling of family that surrounded her. The baby inside her was bringing new emotions to the surface she had repressed for so long. Having lost her mother, now she would be a mother herself. Having lost her dad, she had his blood in her life again, alive and well in her unborn child. Maria was an extension of that same lifeblood. Then there was Rob. The man she had dreamed of, always longed for, but felt was out of reach. She had the family and love she so desperately wanted surrounding her now.
Chapter 5

Sitting outside on the patio as the sun rose over the grey city, Rob watched a thug drug dealer casually pass off baggies to nervous addicts. The traffic thickened into an angry horn-honking herd of cars, pushing and shoving past the intersection. A school bus stopped at the corner. The kids that boarded were dressed in sagging pants, bandanas, fake tattoos and new basketball shoes. Rob pictured his child boarding that bus. "There is no way in hell... If I do nothing else, I will make sure that child never grows up in place like this."

He looked at the scenes of the city with new eyes. The cops at the gas station humped a homeless hustler over the trunk of their car. A redneck with a confederate flag spray-painted on the hood of his truck leaned to spit dip out of his window as he slowed to stop. The redneck exchanged a hard stare with a black man crossing the street in front of him. Two police on bicycles whizzed by with a clicking whoosh. A homeless woman hobbled across the street. Digging into the trash, she produced a crumpled McDonalds bag. Tearing to the bottom, she pulled out a fist-full of cold fries. Devouring them greedily, she picked through the rest of the trash with her other dirt stained hand.

Rob knew they had to move and fast. New York was still on his mind. Yet, he was under no illusions about 'The City' being any better. In many ways it was far worse. However, few other cities support their restaurants and service workers the way the Big Apple does. A solid hard working chef behind a busy line could easily earn a good living. He knew he and Ellen could tough it out, save a college fund, a house fund, maybe even a retirement fund. NY could provide all this and more.

Cincinnati on the other hand... was pretty much out of the question to ever achieve the same level of success. Diners here weren't exactly lining up for three hundred dollar dinner experiences. Rob had met many of the local chefs in the top places in the city. He knew they weren't making any progress on earning more then they were five years ago. This town was too stale for pro chef to make it in. Success meant more than ever to him now, it was necessary for their child's future, even more than for Ellen's or his own.

Standing in the warming sun. Watching the scenes of the poor, the disgruntled and the broken passing by, Rob decided he could wait no longer. He must to take action today.

Back in the bedroom, Rob took out their meager savings from Ellen's purse. Counting the cash on the bed, she wondered what he was planning to do with it.

"I added the money Miguel brought home last night. With my little check, we have over a thousand dollars now," Rob said as he laid the last few bills left over after the grocery bill on the stack.

"One thousand, two hundred and sixty seven to be exact," Ellen shot back as he lay the bills down. "What are you planning to do? Go apartment shopping? That should get us into a four or five hundred dollar a month place right?" she asked with bright eyes.

He felt torn. Ellen was right. With this cash, he could finally get them into a place of their own. Then start all over saving and scraping by until they worked their way back up again from nothing. In weeks, months, maybe longer, he could afford the trip to New York. Contemplating the dilemma, he laid out his thoughts to Ellen.

"I was thinking... I don't want to simply exist and struggle to get by in a different shitty apartment..." he said solemnly.

Ellen saw serious concern flash across his face. There was something he wanted to say but couldn't get it out. Sitting beside him, she rubbed his back. "What's going on? Just tell me, I want to help."

Rob worried she wouldn't like his plan B.

"What if I go to New York, alone, for a weekend?" he asked. "I could try to find a job with my connections from the chefs I know there. We can't afford to both go. If I stay here and spend it on a some crap apartment... I feel like we are always going to be struggling and poor. We only have mere months until..."

Ellen's face fell with sadness. She sat silent, nearly in tears. Rob hugged her as he noticed the distress she was in.

"Never mind," he said with a hug. "I am just feeling desperate. I feel like we have to make a big change, or we will never... I mean look at the other chefs around here. They rent a small place. They hang out at the cheap pubs. Most of them don't even have a decent car. Some are twenty-five and still have roommates and no car at all. Hell, I've been at The Ship over two years. I still don't have a car either! Now, I'm about to have a baby, I mean we are about to... I don't want our child to grow up in this dump. I dunno', maybe I'm having a breakdown or something," he said as held his head in his hands.

Ellen felt his pain. Raking the cash of off the covers, she counted out five hundred dollars. "Can you go and come back on this?" she asked, holding out the cash. "We can get by on what's left, plus I actually make pretty good tips at The Pub. We will be fine... You should take this and go if it's enough. You need to do what you think is best for us all."

Looking at the money, Rob knew it would mean keeping the trip as cheap as possible, but he could do it.

"Just forget it. I am just dreaming, desperately dreaming," he said, both hands holding his hanging head.

Ellen consoled him. "Maybe it's the best plan Rob. You have the talent, and you work really hard. We both know no place in this town is ever going to pay you what you can make there. I already told you I would move... If that's what you think is best, so do I."

Looking up with teary eyes, he tried to explain. "I want to... But I don't. I don't know what the hell to do."

Ellen rubbed his back as she spoke quietly to him. "Well, you can't work at The Pub forever, that would be a waste. Maria will become a permanent bouncer, and end up in prison. Our daughter will be doing homework at a back booth in The Pub after school, listening to Harvey tell dirty jokes and watching drunken sluts dance on the pool table. It will likely cause to her to date a worthless degenerate. She will end up supporting them both as a stripper by the time she's eighteen. Probably working at that crappy strip bar The Pad instead of The Pub. You don't want that do you?" Ellen asked with a giggle.

Rob smiled. "Well, it would be pretty cool to get into The Pad for free. Plus she could bring home stripper friends after work, that might be a plus," he laughed.

She nudged him with an elbow. "And when she get's knocked up and he leaves her, she can retire on welfare in the projects, right next door to us."

He laughed louder, then stopped, shaking his head. "I'm not sure it would all end up that bad but yeah... that's kind of what is running in my mind." His voice turned more serious. "Look outside, for ten minutes. Really look. This place is a festering cesspool of human sewage. We can't raise a child here. Hell I don't even want you to be here."

Standing up off the bed, Ellen finished dressing and handed Rob the money. "Go, go and see if you can get a good job. But come back to me soon. I need... we need you."

Taking the cash, he fell back on the bed. "I can do this... I can do this..." he said in a whisper.

Ellen cut him off. "What do you mean you can do this? You already did this. You made it there before. You can do it again. Get up off that bed and quit looking so sad and pathetic. I have faith in you... Remember what can happen if you have faith?"

Springing up, Rob kissed her hard. Running her hands around his back, she held him tight. Sliding his fingers down her dress, he started tugging it up. Pulling it back down, she backed away patting him atop his head.

"Not with Maria here... and the guys," she said as she pulled away.

Rob pulled her dress back up, chasing her across the room as she dashed away from him towards the door laughing.

As they came into the living room laughing, Maria shot them a surprised look. She was on a chair, knees high, her feet perched on the coffee table, painting her toenails with great care. From their vantage point, both Rob and Ellen could see between Maria's perched legs. Her untrimmed womanhood was exposed between her thighs for all to see. Rob shot Ellen a look as she slowly turned to him, mouth open wide at the sight of Maria's exposed private parts.

"Uh... I'm going to see about airfare rates," Rob said as he quickly scrambled for his shoes. "You deal with... with this," he said, motioning to Maria. "See what I was saying?" he whispered as he hugged her goodbye.

Coming awake, Miguel and Armando rose up off the floor. Armando rubbed his eyes. Looking up at Maria, his eyebrows shot up. Tugging Miguel's arm, motioning towards Maria with wide eyes, he looked at Maria's exposed womanhood in silent awe. Ellen moved between them, blocking their view.

"Maria, that color looks great! Will you come in the bedroom with me for a minute?" Ellen asked, shooting a hard look at the excited cooks on the floor.

"Hey! What did I do?" Miguel asked as Ellen passed by, staring him down coldly.

Rob stopped at the window of Big Bob's Bail Bonds and Travel Services. A woman at the desk inside smiled, waving at him through the window. Walking in, he asked her for the cheapest flights to New York City. Clicking her keyboard, she rattled off some package prices.

"For only eleven ninety I can get you round trip with a room at..."

Rob cut her off. "Sorry, I meant cheap tickets. As in, a couple hundred bucks cheap."

She scanned her monitor. "I can get you a round trip with no room for three eighty."

It was cheaper but not cheap enough. "I'll give it some thought, thanks though." Shooting her a wave, he stepped back onto the street. "This is going to be tough, I need to get creative," he thought to himself as he walked along the broken sidewalk.

Distraught over the ticket prices, his walk down Washington Avenue in the sunshine relaxed him. The past week had been hard sixteen-hour days with no time for anything but work. The aroma of fine coffee filled his nose as he passed by the Newberry Brothers coffee shop. "It's been forever since I had a good cappuccino," he thought, opening the door on a whim.

Taking a seat with his steaming order, he sat in a window seat watching the traffic. Several people in the room were kicked back, silently pecking on tablets and smart phones around him. Among the crowd, he saw a face he recognized.

"Amanda?" he asked quietly to the girl in a booth next to him. She looked up from her phone and smiled.

"Hey, aren't you the chef from... Yeah! I gave you a ride from Armando's right?"

Rob nodded with a smile. "Yeah, you're Army's friend, from Applebee's?"

She nodded back. "Yep. That's me. What are you up to?" she asked, moving to his booth.

"Nothing much. For the first time in weeks I'm kind of off, until five or so anyway."

As it beeped, Amanda's attention was pulled back to her phone. She looked at Rob in glances, then back at her screen. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," he said noticing her intense focus on the phone.

She put it down on the table. "No, I apologize. I was just reading a girl from work's Facebook posts. She's such a liar. She thinks she everyone fooled... Never mind," she said shaking her head. "So. What are you up to? Are you still working on The Ship?"

Rob shrugged. "It's the Bahama Bay now, and I don't think I will going back."

She laughed. "Is it that bad?"

Laughing to himself, he replied. "I'm sure it's not hard work, it's just crap work for crap pay. Frozen commissary food, corporate bullshit, you know."

She threw up her arms. "Uh... Yeah. I work at Applebee's... Remember?" They both shared another laugh between sips.

Her phone beeped again on the wooden tabletop. Sweeping it up, she swiped the screen. "Oh my god. She's such a lying bitch!"

Rob watched with irritation. "Don't people call each other anymore? I mean Facebook is fine I guess, but all this messaging. Hiding behind the interface of a computer. It's even not true communication..." He trailed off as she stared at the screen scowling.

"I'm sorry," she said laying it down again. "She just gets on my last nerve. I don't really want to talk to her." Avoiding the pointless drama, he changed the subject.

"Hey, can you look up airfare prices for me. I want to go to New York City, round trip, for a couple days."

Amanda picked up the phone. "Sure. Lets see..." she said typing. "Here we go... CVG to JFK... $360, $299..." She read as she held out the phone for him to see.

Taking the phone, he scanned the options and the budget rate ticket prices. "Damn. These are all around three hundred bucks..."

"So you're going to New York?" Amanda asked curiously. That sounds fun, I always wanted to go there."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "I want to. But I can't pay these prices, not for a while anyway. I only need a couple days up there, to find out if I can get a good job. I don't have enough money though I guess."

Amanda looked curious. "You could always go on a ride share. I have friends that do that all the time."

Rob looked up from the phone. "What's a ride share?"

She pointed at the phone and explained. "You post an ad on craigslist. People driving your way will call you. You can ride with them and help pay for gas and whatever. It's pretty popular, especially with my stone-broke hippy friends. They travel the country on next to nothing."

Rob loved the idea instantly. "Will you post an ad for me? I don't have a computer anymore since... And my phone doesn't have data."

She took the phone in hand. "Of course. It will take like five seconds." Tapping the screen, she paused. "Okay, what do we say?"

He explained he wanted a ride to New York City, leaving in the next few days. "Okay, lets see..." she said as she poised her finger to type the post. "Handsome outgoing Newport Chef seeking ride to NY. Safe, fun and clean. Have cash for gas." She stopped typing. "Do you have a license?"

He laughed. "Uh... yeah. Of course."

She shrugged. "You never know with cooks, it seems like usually they usually don't for whatever reason." Nodding knowingly, he agreed as she went back to typing. "Can share driving." Pausing again, she looked up. "What's your number?" she asked. As he told her the number, she finished the post. "Call 513-555-6066. No emails please."

Publishing the post, Amanda dropped the phone on the table. "There you go. Good luck! I hope you get a ride soon, and a job too of course."

Gathering her purse, she stood up, stopping to ask Rob if he needed a ride anywhere while she was out. "I'm off and don't really have much to do. You wanna' come along and... I dunno, whatever you want to do. I have some wicked Jamacian with me. We could puff and..."

She leaned down close to him in his seat, biting her nail as she looked at him smiling. Her pert young breasts peaked out under her loose sundress as she leaned over. Tossing her hair back from her face, she stared waiting for his reply.

"Well, that would be awesome," he said. "Spend the day with a cute girl like you. Catch a buzz, a few drinks after, maybe end up spending the night," he said, standing up beside her.

She watched him with bright eyes as he continued. "That would be perfect... I would love to take you out... in the past. But I have a great girlfriend now, and a baby on the way. I'm off the list for good. And I'm pretty excited about it too. I went through a lot to get where I am with her."

Frowning, she hugged him lightly. "Why are all the best guys already taken? Girls like me get stuck with nothing but the disturbed, damaged and doomed," she said with a laugh.

Rob laughed back. "Get off the Facebook for starters. That shit will get you nowhere. And stop dating service workers. Find a nice office job guy..."

She pushed his shoulder. "Yeah right! Be in bed by nine? Homeowner association meetings and tennis clubs? What fun would that be? I'm too young for all that boredom."

Together, they walked to the door.

"Well, Army is home with nothing to do..." Rob said teasing.

She shrugged. "I like Army, he's cool. He has really good weed too. I mean really good. I didn't intend to have sex with him the other night, it just sort of happened. I do like him though, he's funny."

Rob laughed. "Yep, he's pretty damn funny, and the best part is, he doesn't even mean to be. I'm headed there now. You want to stop by? I'm sure he's still home."

She chirped the remote on her keychain, shaking her head. "No. I will see him tonight at The Pub. Tell him I said I will be there around midnight or so, after I get off."

Rob nodded, waving to her as she drove away.
Chapter 6

A black mustang tangled up with a delivery truck outside the sad apartment. The two drivers were arguing loudly as people on the street looked on. Rob walked past the scene with no regard to the furious feuding. Inside, Miguel and Armando were playing Mario Cart, taking turns hitting a bong stuffed with Army's decadent weed.

"This is the last of the Afgani' amigo! Get a hit while you can," Miguel said through clenched teeth, holding out the bong as Rob walked in.

"You guys go ahead. It's a little too early for me," Rob replied as he peeked into the fridge.

Maria had chopped vegetables and cooked noodles stored in tubs on the shelf. Opening them up, Rob saw she had everything ready for a delicious Asian meal. Just sizzle and sauce.

Heating up a skillet, he asked the laughing stoners on the sofa if they were hungry.

"Hell yes amigo! This is the world's best appetizer right here," Miguel said laughing, coughing smoke.

Armando shouted out right behind him. "Yeah me too. I can eat for sure. Especially if you are cooking."

The pan began to smoke the olive oil. Rob tossed in three handfuls of chopped broccoli, carrot and cabbage. The veggies jumped, sizzling in the smoking pan. Adding minced garlic, scallion and a few sliced strips of Miguel's coveted smoked peppers, Rob shook the pan on the burner.

"Damn! That smells great already," Miguel said thumbing his remote control.

Stirring in the cold noodles, Rob rocked them in the hot pan. With his thumb over the bottle's mouth, drizzling soy sauce into the mix, he shook the pan back and forth until the sauce was evenly distributed. Switching off the burner, he let the pan sit, sizzling as he crushed a handful of peanuts. Sprinkling them on top, with a final dash of sticky soy sauce and a handful of fresh bean sprouts, he quickly plated three dishes.

Handing the plates to the stoned gamers, he took a seat on the chair next to the sofa.

"Damn that was fast," Armando said, smiling at his steaming plate.

Rob nodded as he took his first bite. "Maria had it all ready to go. You gotta' love Asian food. It's super fast, healthy and delicious. Not to mention cheap as hell. In a thousand years, nowhere else on the planet has improved on their cuisine.

"No where except Mexico! Miguel retorted, slurping a noodle. "My Momma ees cooking tonight for my sister's birthday. You come with us, you will see. Eets the best man... Tamales, taquitos, chili rellenos, enchiladas, tacos, tostados, chilaquilles and churros too!"

Rob was intrigued. "If Ellen wants to go I would love to go."

Miguel shot him a smile with a nod. "You bet she will want to go. We will all go," he said as he thumbed his game remote. Rob felt awkward about tagging along.

"I don't want to barge in on a family thing unannounced, maybe she didn't cook enough for all of us," Rob said as he twisted a noodle around his fork.

Miguel shook his head. "No, you can come man. She cooks plenty. They will love eet if you come. This is familia my friend, we feed each other you know, everybody ees welcome."

Army agreed as he leaned towards the TV, thumbing his control in great angst. "Yeah, we are all familia now, Ellen, Maria too. You are all welcome anytime, just like me."

Watching the two abandon their game in favor of the food, Rob looked on smiling. Finishing his lunch, he took his plate to the sink. Miguel spoke up behind him.

"You all have to go amigo. I bet Maria has never seen Mexican food before."

Washing the plate, Rob stood in the kitchen doorway. "Yeah. About Maria, you guys need to lay off the staring and stuff with her."

Miguel shot him a look. "What-you mean amigo?"

Rob laughed. "I saw you looking up her dress."

Armando interrupted. "No no! That was not our fault. She was showing it, I just looked over..."

Rob stopped him. "I know. Whatever the reason, knock it off please. It makes me nervous. She's different from the girls around here. I mean... she doesn't understand the way we treat sex so casually. I don't want to see her get hurt, ya' know?"

Miguel sat back on the sofa. "No problem amigo. We respect her. But if you haven't noticed... She's really hot."

Rob shot Miguel a frowning stare.

Armando quickly agreed. "Yeah, she's really hot. She's like all toned and tan... She's cool too. She can fight anybody," he said, jumping up, kicking into the air. "She's the first girl I ever knew that can fight a man. She's like a real life ninja. A sexy ninja!"

Rob grabbed Armando by the waist, throwing him to the floor. Wrestling him into a headlock, pinning him down he teased him. "Sexy ninja huh?" Rob repeated, rubbing his knuckles hard in Army's hair. "Sexy ninja huh?"

Armando struggled to get away. Laughing, Rob let off.

"Okay, stop messing with me! I get it. Leave the sexy ninja alone," Armando said as he stood up, straightening his shirt.

Rob knew they would make some effort to avoid obvious stares at Maria. Nonetheless, in his experience, he also knew the more they saw of her bare body, the more they would be interested in pursuing her. One of them may even get somewhere with it. He didn't want to see Maria emotionally hurt, or worse, impregnated before she had chance to find true love and experience freedom in her new country.

Nevertheless, he knew his crew. Cooks in general were famous for their promiscuous romps with any server, hostess or bartender they could talk into bed. Miguel and Armando were masters at the popular past time. Maria's new look and modern clothes were showing off her feminine fitness nicely. She had transformed into a very pretty woman in a short time. Sooner or later, one of them would make a move whether Rob liked it or not.

It was only a matter of time, Rob realized as he pondered the problem. Ellen had been correct when she mentioned they could get an apartment with their savings. That would solve two pressing problems, but eliminate the possibility of going to New York anytime soon.

In the shower, Rob stood under the hot running water wrestling with indecision. "Get the family to a small shit-hole of their own here and work at The Pub... Or move everyone to an even smaller shit-hole in NY and work in real restaurant?"

As the water filled his ears, blocking out all of the sounds around him. He pictured the two scenarios. Twisting off the faucet, he stepped out, drying in the mirror. Wiping the fog off the glass, he stared at his own eyes. "You only get one life..." he said with a whisper. "Might as well make the most of it... New York it is."

Ellen and Maria returned from the laundry room. "Hey, Ellen!" Rob called out from the bedroom. Coming into the room, he told her about the birthday party. "Miguel said we should all go to his mom's. It's his sisters birthday, big authentic dinner, you wanna' go?"

Ellen looked surprised. "Sounds good to me. Maria can go too?"

Rob nodded his head. "Oh yeah, you can bet she will be welcome," he said, motioning for Ellen to close the door.

Closing the door, she looked at him curiously. "Bad news," he said, causing her to frown. "They think she's super hot, both of them. I think this bar fight thing has also somehow caused them to become really interested in her. Well, that, and her nakedness."

Ellen looked relived and worried in the same instant. "I talked to her about that. She doesn't realize. She's been a man for over thirty years. No one ever looked at her sexually until now."

Rob nodded. "I know. I'm just saying. Her new look, her fit body... She's looking good and they have her scent on their brain like dogs in heat."

Ellen shrugged. "What am I going to do? It's not like she can't fend for herself."

Rob shrugged too. "I dunno', tell her about it. Explain to her these guys would hump the coffee table if it had legs like hers. Maybe she can keep her distance if she knows."

Ellen agreed she would as she walked out to the bathroom.
Chapter 7

Arriving at Miguel's mother's house, he led them to the backyard gate. Once inside the privacy fence, Ellen saw two rows of picnic tables pushed together. A smoking grill at the end of the tables wafted an inciting aroma.

"That smells amazing," she said. Rob agreed as they walked to the tables.

Miguel pulled beers from a blue cooler on the ground.

"Cervesas!" Armando said, quickly twisting the top off of his, chugging most of it in one drink. Miguel's mother came to the table, greeting them in Spanish.

"Habla English Mamma," Miguel said laughing.

"Oh si si," she said.

"You like Mexican food?" she asked, placing a dish of enchiladas on the table.

"I can tell just by the aroma I am going to love your food," Rob replied as he eyed the dish.

Ellen shook her hand. "Thank you for having us. I am Ellen, this is Rob and that's my sister Maria."

Mamma smiled, introducing her daughter Maya. Shaking Ellen's hand, Maya greeted her as well. "I am so glad to have you all. Please eat, drink and enjoy. Mamma has more good things coming out shortly."

A circle of older men played dominoes on a card table, smoking big cigars under sweat stained straw cowboy hats. Miguel's younger cousins tossed horseshoes, bragging loudly each time a shoe clanked around the spike. A group of young girls chased a dog that sprinted away with their doll. Two babies lay side by side in a hammock, wrapped in bright colored cloth, teething on their thumbs. The familiar calliope sound of Mexican music rang out loud across the yard from speakers perched in an open bedroom window.

Rob had worked with Mexicans since his first day in a professional kitchen in New York. Until The Ship, he had little interaction outside of work with few if any. Now, years after starting his career, he had come to realize these immigrants were hard working honest people. Usually, more so than the so-called Americans he shared a line with. Seeing their family together this way, he understood how they were able to maintain such a tight family bond as compared to most of people he grew up with.

These people accepted each other as is. Wealth, possessions, fashion and beauty were not competitive factors in their lives. They weren't competing with one another in any way. They were simply focused on eating well, sharing what they had and raising their families together. It felt beautiful to be welcomed into their warm family fold.

Just before the food was served, Momma came out with the birthday cake. The group sang in Spanish as Miguel's sister blew out the candles. Maria opened presents from the family. The little girls sat beside her, watching closely, grabbing up the presents as Maria placed them aside. Rob passed Ellen a steaming spinach tamale. Spooning a dark red sauce on her plate, he watched as she bit into the soft corn shell.

"Wow that's awesome!" Ellen said as she swallowed the tasty treat.

"Hell yes it is. Try this too," Rob said, handing her more savory samples.

Mamma' brought more treats to the table. Rob stopped her before she returned inside.

"Mamma Miguel, your food is simply divine, amazingly delicious. It makes me angry that local so-called Mexican restaurants serve such Americanized crap under the name Mexican food. If Americans realized that this is what Mexican food really is... they would boycott those fake places. Its such a shame, this food is truly wonderful and should be shared."

Maya overheard, looking over smiling she agreed. "We never eat out at Mexican restaurants. I used to think they served the same food we make at home, until I tried a few. It's all something just for Americans. Dishes I've never seen before," she with a laugh.

Rob shook his head. "La Mexicana on Monmouth is pretty good. But there is nothing like this at any restaurant I've heard of around here. This is slow cooked love. It's amazing."

Miguel perked up. "See! I told you eets the best."

Armando nodded in agreement as he pulled slow smoked carnitas chucks apart with his fingers. "Yeah, its the best!" he said, licking his fingers before reaching in the cooler for another cold beer.

Ellen explained the individual dishes to Maria as she sampled the unknown items. Maria also found the food addicting. Rob and Ellen were surprised at her appetite. One treat after another, she ate every bite with enthusiasm. Pointing with a bright smile, she held out her plate for seconds of her favorites. Maya brought out more dishes. The group dined and drank as the children and the music played on.

Rob and Ellen sat together in perfect bliss, nibbling on fresh warm churros. Watching the kids tease the dog with a ball, Rob's phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the unknown number, he answered with suspicion.

"Hello?"

The man on the other end explained why he was calling. Walking around the house towards the sidewalk to hear over the music, Rob asked him to repeat himself. "I'm sorry. Who is this again?" he asked curiously.

"My name is Ben. I saw your post. I'm leaving in an hour for New York. I'm in Newport now. You still looking for a ride?"

Rob couldn't believe it. It had only been a few hours since the ad had been posted. The opportunity had come so suddenly he was caught off guard. Not knowing how to answer, he paused. "Uh... Well, yeah... Yeah! I do need a ride. I just wasn't expecting a reply so soon."

Ben laughed. "Well, I would like to drive straight through but I hate to do that alone. If you can drive half the way, we can do it easy. If it works for you, it works for me, but no matter what, I have to leave in an hour."

Rob knew this was what he waiting for, just not so quickly without notice. "Okay great! Pick me up at 714 Thirteenth Street. I will be ready when you get here."

Ben agreed. As Rob hung up the phone he felt butterflies in his belly. This was it. He was leaving for the Big Apple, in an hour.

Walking back to the table he told Ellen the news. "Oh my god really?" she asked. "Right now? That's crazy! So you're leaving now, with some guy you never met, all the way to New York?"

Rob laughed. "Yeah. Right now," he replied. She didn't know how to feel. Part of her was excited, the other sad.

"Well, lets go, I wanna' give you a goodbye..." Ellen said with a whisper.

Rob explained to Miguel the news of his plan.

"You can't go to New York! We need you at The Pub. We made like three hundred dollars each last night. That's damn good money amigo," Miguel said.

Armando chimed in. "Yeah. We want you to stay here. We need you to be the chef."

Rob patted Miguel on the shoulder. "You can do it without me just fine. You're the chef while I'm gone."

Miguel beamed with pride.

Armando nudged Miguel's arm. "And me too. I can cook too," he said.

"You too amigo, you're the training souse chef now," Rob replied. "You listen to Chef Miguel, he will teach you. You're learning fast. Before long, maybe you will be a true sous chef."

Armando's eyes widened as he laughed, poking Miguel again. "Yeah... You hear that? I will be the sous chef!"

Miguel grappled Armando's neck with his arm, rubbing his hair hard with his knuckles. "You're lucky to be the training cook for now, we see if you cry again when eet gets real busy."

Armando pushed him away with a scowl. "I won't cry! Never, you will see."

Rob laughed and said his goodbyes. He hugged the cooks, thanked Mamma, Maya and her family before they left through the gate. Mamma jogged to catch up. Handing Rob a paper bag, loaded with tamales and warm churros.

"It was so nice to meet you. Miguel talks about you all the time. Here, this is something for later. I am so happy you all like it so much."

Ellen took the bag, thanking her with a hug. She too was quickly finding Miguel's family endearing.

At the apartment, Rob packed a gym bag with his clothes and items. Ellen helped him choose from the laundry basket as he counted out his needs. She was smiling as tears filled her eyes.

"You still have time for me too... " She said, pulling the straps from her dress down around her shoulders. Rob was about to push her to the bed when she stopped him.

"No, sit there," she said, easing him towards the side of the bed. "I know I have never... But I want to. I just wasn't ready to try yet but..."

She tugged his pants off. Sitting on her knees she freed his manhood and took it into her mouth. Nervous, and unsure what to do, she pressed his growing flesh between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Moving her head slowly, she tongued it between her lips as she felt him grow larger in her hand. Peeking up at his face, she saw his eyes were glued to her as she licked him, pressing his shaft against her tongue.

Feeling nervous again, she looked back down. Holding him with encircling fingers, she pushed her head down onto him as far as she could manage. As his tip pushed into her throat, she gagged. Spitting up slightly, she pulled him out. Embarrassed she paused. "I don't know what to... You're not going to like it..."

Holding her head up, Rob whispered. "I do like it. Just do whatever you want to do, but you have to hurry."

With renewed confidence she took him back in her mouth. Sliding her lips from the tip as far down as she could and back up, she started a rhythm.

Breathing through her nose, she paced her movements in time with her breathing. Little by little, she was able to let the tip press harder on her throat as she took him deeper with every few strokes. Rob ran his fingers through her hair. She moaned under his touch.

"Ah, yeah I like when you..." he said.

Moaning again, she felt him grow in her hand. Moaning louder, she pulled him tight between her lips. The sounds of her smacking lips embarrassed her as she bobbed. Moving faster, she found her pace.

His legs stiffened, holding her head softly with both hands, he felt weak. In seconds, she felt him pulsing in her mouth. Slowing to a pause, she held in place as he released everything he had. Rubbing her hair, he held her head as his release slowed to a light pulse. Feeling unable to catch her breath, she swallowed quickly, letting go with a gasp.

"I guess it worked. Not bad for my first try right?" she asked, looking up him, wiping her lips. Smiling down at her, he pulled her up to the bed.

"That was great. How about we practice four or fives times a week when I get back," Rob teased.

She laughed. "Sure. I can do that, but you still have to keep up enough energy to give back something... say three or four times week?"

Rob looked at her with a surprised face. "That's ten orgasms a week woman! Who do you think I am? Superman?"

She rubbed his manhood with a tight grip. "Not Superman, Super-Chef. Now go, go and come back to me quickly."

Hugging her tight, he rolled her into the bed. Whispering in her ear, "I miss you already."

Running her fingers up and down his back, she whispered a sad reply. "I do too. Now go on, I'm going to cry if we keep this up."

Rising off the bed, he grabbed his bag and walked to the door. Just then Maria walked in the door.

"Maria, I will see you soon. Take care of Ellen, she needs you, you know."

Maria hugged him. "We will be safe. We have each other. I worry for you. You will have no friend where you go, you must be careful. You take this..." Maria said, handing him a razor sharp folding knife.

"Not sure I need a switchblade Maria," Rob said laughing.

Maria pushed it back into his hand. "It is good to not need. But you will have it anyway. Better to have and not need, than to need and not have."

Taking the knife, he laughed to himself again. "Okay sure. Thanks Maria. That's the one thing I forgot, a super sharp shiv," he said, looking at Ellen with a smile. "Seriously though. I don't need..."

Maria shushed him, insisting he take the weapon. Ellen laughed with tears as the two girls hugged Rob again. Ellen followed him out to the street as his phone rang.

"Hey buddy I'm pulling up," Ben said.

Rob waved at him as the car slowed at the corner.

"I will see you soon," he said, hugging Ellen one last time. "I... I love you," he whispered, pulling her tightly.

Her voice sounded unsteady from her chocking tears as she tucked her head into this neck. "I love you too Rob Anderson. Come back to me as soon as you can."

They broke their embrace as the car stopped at the curb. Rob walked away and opened the car door, waving goodbye as he took his seat.

"And call me! Let me now what's going on," Ellen yelled with a wave. She felt her heart skip a beat as he shut the door.

Watching the taillights disappear down the street into the sunset, she felt a sinking feeling of loss she had not felt since her dad died. Turning to go back inside, she saw Maria standing in the open doorway. She could see tears in her eyes as well. Without a word, Maria hugged her. Ellen was relived with the warm embrace. Holding her, rocking, Ellen cried silent tears.

She laughed through her sadness. "I'm so silly. I'm crying and he's not even out of Newport."

Maria hugged her hard. "It's not silly. He's a very good man. You have a lot of love. He will be a good father. You're very lucky."

Ellen wiped her eyes as they walked back inside. She slid into their bed alone. It felt unnerving to be without Rob. She plugged her phone onto the charger, keeping it on the bed as she curled up under covers. Her mind racing with too many images and thoughts to sleep, she lay still, sobbing into her pillow, wondering what fate the uncertain future would bring.
Chapter 8

The Hyundai's yellow hazed headlights shined bleakly through the night as Rob and Ben sped along the highway. To pass the time, they chatted about their lives and life in general. Rob learned that Ben urgently needed to get to New York to attend a child support hearing.

A few years ago, Ben was an up and coming mortgage trader in a well-known New York firm. His big money Wall Street job came complete with a company perks such as high grade Columbian cocaine, high dollar whores and a long list of possible FTC felonies. It was the industry standard. When the housing market crashed, so did Ben's job.

As soon as the money went away, the repossessions came in. A month after filing bankruptcy, his wife coincidently filed for divorce, taking custody of their two-year-old daughter, and all of his remaining assets. In an instant, without warning, Ben was stripped of his wife, child, home, possessions, job and savings.

The court had based his child support payments on the past two years prior tax returns, which were very high. Awarding her nearly $2500 a month in child support. Coupled with the burden of the massive payment, and the sadness of losing his child, he was devastated.

Broke and with no other option, Ben was forced to move in with his parents back in Newport Kentucky. Starting over, he was humbled. He couldn't keep up with the $2500 child support payments with his current teller job at Park Bank. In fact, he didn't even make $2500 a month total. It was the only job that came his way. With no other prospects, he was forced to take it until something better came along. That was three years ago.

After more than a year of working with a lawyer, a hearing was finally scheduled on the court docket to reduce his support amount, and plea to stay out of jail for nonpayment. Facing five years in jail, he was nervous. Rob could hear it in his voice as he told the tale. Rob delved into the topic in an effort to bring him some kind of positive assurance.

"I hope it doesn't happen, but if you do go to Sing Sing, I can drive your car home to your parents house. Just call me if you need me."

Ben thanked him. "God. I hope it doesn't come down to that. What do they expect me to do? Somehow magically make triple what I do now? I would love to make that kind of money again. Those jobs just vanished," he said in despair. "If they insist I need to earn more, I will have to insist they help me secure a position... 'Point the way your honor, and I will follow!' They will have to sentence me to better job... our else they are just crazy," Ben said as he banged his fist on the dash. "I appreciate the offer though Rob, I don't want to lose my shitty car too. It's all I have really."

Rob agreed. "I still don't have a car. I'm twenty-seven years old. I never needed one in college or after graduation because I lived in New York. I moved to Cincinnati for a so-called great Exec' Chef opportunity. It went pretty good for two years but I ended up getting fucked by some slick Arab criminal that bought the restaurant. Now I'm stuck there with no good job and no money, and a baby on the way."

Ben nodded in sympathy. "You and me both man, different stokes but the same situation. People who live in Cincinnati are either too stupid to move, or just stuck there. I guess I'm a bit of both. Unlike you though, I will never live in New York City again. It's abusively over-priced, dangerous and over crowded. It smells like sewer, it's filthy, patched, cracked, broken and battered. The people there are mostly demons or mentally ill. The entire city is corrupt. Plus, the weather sucks. It's even worse than Ohio. The only people who can afford to go out and are the spoiled one per-centers who sit around thinking they haven't been eating enough animal guts lately. I can't say I envy you."

Rob knew every word was true as he replied. "I look at it as if I am going to the military. I can a work through a few tours and stack up enough cash to move with enough savings for a modest house somewhere. Maybe even send my daughter to college and have a little leftover to set up a retirement off of. It's not a dream come true. For me, it's a last ditch effort. I get what you're saying though. I have lived it and I know what you say is all too true. People go to New York all bright eyed, thinking they will have it made. I know better. I just want to live in Queens, earn enough to save, just a little leftover for the future you know."

Ben shook his head. "Man I used to make big bucks off of guys like you. That "Little Leftover" you mentioned... That was I needed to hear. Check it out, it goes like this..."

Ben morphed into his well-rehearsed sales pitch. "Rob what if told you I could turn that meager five grand savings into a solid quarter million by the time little Annie is ready for college, Which by the way, the cost of college is rising 32% per year... Rob let me help you out here. Would you say yes right now, if I can put you down for five thousand in this awesome investment? I only have room for two more investors on this one. After that, it's locked up for good... This isn't some unpredictable stock. This is brick and mortar real estate backed mortgage futures you're investing in here. This is what banks invest in. We're putting your tiny scratch along with a millions from others. This is investing like the big boys do. There's a reason why they call it, real, estate... Practically every home in America is worth three times what it was twenty years ago, plus they are all insured. Have you ever heard of a stock that's insured? No, never. Trust me here. You just can't lose! This is why you want to get on this now Rob. This isn't some half percent savings account, this is real money..."

Ben stopped his sales pitch recital and laughed. "You can't believe how many people with a little handful of cash will happily hand it all over for sucker promises like that from a well respected Wall Street firm. A Manhattan address and a broker license is a license to steal." He laughed again as he thought about his past job. "What goes around comes around. I guess this is my come-around. Man it's a bitch of one too. If I had only known then..."

Rob held up his hands. "Coulda' Woulda' Shoulda'. We just have to roll with the punches I guess."

It was around four a.m. when the Hyundai ducked under the Hudson River into the Holland Tunnel. Following Canal Street to Broadway, Rob steered the car towards Ben's hotel. The sights of the city brought back exciting memories.

"Broadway and Chambers, The Cosmopolitan Hotel Tribeca," Ben said as they turned the corner.

"Tribeca. That sounds expensive," Rob replied.

Ben countered quickly. "It's a hundred and three a night, with free parking. Cheapest decent place I know of downtown. The guys at my old firm used to take expensive whores there during lunch or after company meetings."

Rob was surprised at the rate. "I might as well get a room there too then. It does sound cheap for downtown, and it is close to everywhere I'm going."

Ben shot a quick reply. "You can share a room with me if you want. I'm not gay and I don't snore since I quit drinking. When the hearing is over I'm leaving... If I'm allowed to leave that is."

Rob felt it was a perfect plan. "Hell yeah, fifty bucks a night, I can't beat that."

Ben agreed. "I'll take a cab to court so you can take the car home from there too... if need be."

After checking in and settling into the room, Rob stood on the balcony admiring the downtown view. Calling Ellen, he woke her up. "I'm here. I have a room with Ben, fifty bucks a night."

Sleepily, she asked about the drive and what his plans were now.

"Fine. First thing, I am hitting up all my old contacts. The best way into a good kitchen is through the backdoor. If nothing pans out, I will try as many of the best places I can. Walking in off the street with a resume is a real bad way to try and get a job in this town. They always blow those people off. My best bet is to try to a catch a break from a chef from school that knows me. I need to print resumes before I head out though, just in case."

More awake, Ellen spoke with enthusiasm, filling with blind faith as the conversation went on. Rob felt the tire of the drive sink in. "I better go now, I'm super tired. I can rest if I get to bed now. I really need to approach my contacts between two and four; otherwise they will be too busy to talk to me. That gives me time to get my resumes and take the subway."

Ellen kissed him goodnight through the phone. Worn out and frazzled from the drive, he fell into the stiff bed with a squeaky thump, drifting fast asleep quickly.
Chapter 9

When Rob awoke Ben was gone. He left a note with his car keys, his phone number and his parent's number as well. Rob silently wished him luck as he read the somber script. Showering and dressing, he checked his hair and shave in the mirror before he left.

Taking along a list of every New York chef he knew from school or work, he was ready to begin. One name was at the top, Danny Scott. Danny was gifted from the start. Even in culinary school he was always changing the task, twisting the ingredients and preparations to his own desires. This infuriated the instructors, even though secretly they loved the flavors. Everyone in the class knew, someday, Danny was going somewhere.

Currently, Danny was working in Tribeca as a station chef for Marc Forgione in his popular self-titled eatery. Then there was Nick, Rusty, Tim and Marissa. The five of them had been on-off roommates and full time friends during Rob's entire New York life. Thanks to Facebook, Rob knew where they all worked. He had considered sending them messages, but decided to see them in person instead. Not only because he loathed facebook, but to show his initiative and seriousness.

It was only a two and a half block walk from the hotel to his first destination, Marc Forgione. Rob nearly jogged the whole way with excitement. Walking into the lobby, a model quality brunette at the hostess desk greeted him.

"Welcome, how can I help you?" she asked.

Rob leaned on her desk towards her. "Actually I stopped by to see a friend. Chef Dan Scott, is he on shift today?"

She raised her eyebrows, smiling. "Danny! Yeah, I think he's here. I will call back for him. Your name is?" she asked.

"Rob Anderson."

The pretty brunette picked up the phone, calling back to the kitchen for Chef Danny. "Hey. This is Jen at the desk... I have a Ron Anderson up here for you."

Rob interrupted her with a wave. "No, it's Rob. Rob Anderson." He waited in nervous anticipation.

"Okay, sure, will do," Jen said as she hung up the phone. Walking Rob through the empty dining room, she pointed to the far corner. "Go through those double doors, Danny is on the prep line."

Thanking her, he headed back to the kitchen. Walking past the swinging stainless doors into the spotless white tiled kitchen, he walked past prep cooks as they readied the night's dinner service. Chopping, dicing and filleting in unison. It was the kind if place he could see himself in.

Danny noticed Rob and called out to him with a wave. "Hey! Rob! Over here."

Rob walked back to the big Viking range Danny was standing in front of, slowly stirring a huge stockpot of steaming sauce. "I'm stuck here with this sauce or I would have come out. If it breaks, they will torch my balls. There is probably like a hundred bucks in this pot, just in ingredients, spices and labor hours, no kidding. Anyway, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were living in Cincinnati."

Rob held his arms out wide. "I am, but I want to move back here. That's why I am hitting up all my old friends from school. I am looking to get behind a line here in the city again."

Danny looked surprised, nodding his head. "Hell yeah! There you go man." He hugged Rob with one arm while stirring with the other. "Good to see you brother."

Looking back at the simmering sauce, Danny continued. "I bet you will find a job soon man. It's hard, but then again, it's not that hard. It's like... If you know people, you can bounce around whenever you want, you know. If you don't, you can't even get a fucking dish room job. The Hispanics have that shit wrapped up."

Leaning forward, whispering as he stirred, he shot glances around the room before speaking. "They have most all the line and prep jobs too. You have to go for lead, head or executive chef or you're fucked. The owners are too stuck up their own white bread ass to put a Latino Chef's name on the door. If you don't land a top spot, you might as well be a server. This town is whacked!"

Rob didn't like the sound of that. "I can't go the server route. I have a girl now and a baby coming. I have to get a steady line job."

Danny shook his head. "I wish there was something here. I would love to have to you back here with me man. That would be cool. They would probably give you a shot too. But right now, we have two lead chefs moonlighting three days week at other start-ups. I'm lucky to get forty hours between line and prep shifts, and they make sure it's never forty-one too. I'm not on salary though, those other guys are so they don't give a shit about hours."

Rob's hopes fell just a little lower as he listened to Danny explain the economic downturn in the cities restaurant scene.

With a shrug Danny continued. "It's not like it was when we graduated. You could choose from jobs then, now most of us bounce around. Places open and close a few months later, you do a lot of hopping from joint to joint, you know. Marissa got her own food truck. Fucking tacos! She sells the fuck out of em' I think she's doing the best of all of us."

Rob asked about their other friends in common. Danny explained where they were working and that he saw them out from time to time but not regularly anymore. "I got this gig here, I have to be here at fucking six a.m. I can't hang out until four anymore like we used to. I have a one year old too. Ever since then, I kinda' lost track of the crew, you know."

Nodding, Rob listened as Danny went on. "I wish I could hook you up with some free lunch but they even make us pay full price. I can't comp a fucking crouton without a filling out a damn form."

Rob laughed, thanking him as they shook hands with a hard slap on the back. Saying his goodbye, he walked back out through the lobby to the street.

With Marissa and her food truck off the list, that left just Nick, Tim and Rusty. Rob headed for the next venue. 'Almanac' was twenty-eight blocks away. The subway sped him uptown to the Seventh Street in eighteen minutes. Walking up to the front door, he saw they didn't open until 5:30.

Jogging around to the back, he noticed the rear door propped open. Peering in, he saw two Hispanic cooks prepping on a wooden table.

"Amigos... You know Nick Wallace? Chef Wallace?"

They nodded and pointed behind them, going on about their work in silence.

Rob cautiously walked in, calling out Nick's name as he stepped deeper into the kitchen. "Nick! Hey Nick!"

The blonde haired chef was on his knees, scrubbing an open oven.

"What the fuck do you want?" he yelled back. "You see I'm half in this fucking oven don't you! Jesus-be-damned you're a pain in the fucking ass!"

Standing behind him, Rob waited silently for Nick to see who was calling his name. Turning, Nick's eyes went wide, seeing Rob for the first time in over two years.

"What the fuck? Anderson!" Nick said as he rose off the floor. "I thought you were my dick kitchen manager. He has a bad habit of yelling my name real loud like that at the worst possible times."

Laughing, Rob looked around the kitchen. "Wow! This place is nice. I just came from Danny's and I thought that was nice, but this is awesome."

Nick nodded as he wiped his hands. "Shit yeah, they spend the big bucks on the restaurant, and the food, but not the employees, at least not the guys in the slop anyway."

Rob felt forlorn again as Nick described his work environment.

"Hey I'm not complaining. This place dishes out damn good food. I like that part. But the hours are brutal. I'm on salary and they work me like a damn donkey. We don't open until after five and I've been here since five this morning. Think about that shit!"

Chatting, Rob soon realized there was no room for another high paid chef there either. "Man, I need to find a decent job. You have any ideas? Hear of anything opening or hiring?" he asked.

Nick laughed. "Are you kidding? These new culinary grads plaster the Internet with padded resumes. There are thousands of new grads competing for a few jobs. Everyone is going to school to be a chef now days. It's the hot trend. It's crazy. They must think we make doctor money while we casually wait out our turn to have a TV show."

Rob understood. "When they get shoved in a steamy dish room until four a.m. they will realize just what their degree is worth."

Nick laughed in agreement. "Yeah, it's like suddenly chefs are a dime a dozen to the owners. You think those new kids won't break down in tears when the line crashes? Fuck, I did when I got my first heavy line job, walked right out the back door on a Saturday night rush. I never even went back for my check... too embarrassed."

"You paid your dues though," Rob commented. "You wouldn't be on the line at this place if you ran off crying during an sinister service,"

Nick pointed at him with raised eyebrows. "You better fucking believe it too. We get demolished here on the weekends. Broadway ticket holders will fucking walk right now if their food comes out late man. Weekends are brutal. I can drive this line now though. Shit, our head chef doesn't even hardly work, we grunts do it all."

Realizing Almanac was another dead end as far job prospects go, Rob wanted to make the most of his little time. "Well, I am going to hit the bricks and keep looking. Maybe someone got fired or quit last night, you never know."

Shaking his hand, Nick gave him a number. "Put this in your phone... 212-666-9906. That's Andy'. He's a headhunter for a temp service that specializes in chefs and service workers. Most of it is catering gigs and whatever. He's cool though, we used to hang out a lot. He's a CIA grad like us. He used to cook, and good too. Gave it up for the suit and tie job. If anyone knows of a job opening, he does."

Rob thanked him again. "Hell yeah man, thanks! That's the guy I need to see."

Motioning him close, Nick whispered. "Watch those guys close. I had a friend get a job through them, he got fired over some BS and they took his last check, said it was in the terms and conditions or some shit. Ended up evicted, all kinds of bad shit went down over that."

With a final handshake and a goodbye, Rob walked back out the back door. Waving as he passed the Hispanic preppers, still chopping onions. Tears streamed down their faces as they danced in place along with the Mexican pop playing on the kitchen radio.

Stopping for bagel, Rob called Ellen from the sidewalk. He explained what little he had discovered so far and told her about the temp service contact. They spoke until he came to the subway station. Wishing her a goodbye, he dashed underground, onto the next, hopefully better, prospect.

Next on the list... Tim. He was working at 'Dirty French', twelve blocks away on the lower east side. The subway arrived at the stop in just a few minutes. Tim's Facebook page showed many photos of his co-workers and dishes off the menu he prepared. Rob could see the place had merit.

Tim was always the studious one of the bunch. He scored perfect on tests, but with all he had going for him in book smarts, he lacked in imagination. Tim was content to follow orders. He chose to focus on maintaining an orderly flow of exact recipes and spot on presentation. Creating dishes had never been his strong suit, executing his chef's wishes was.

Rob realized in the business today, Tim was the perfect lead chef. He didn't change anything, didn't want to change anything and always executed his food with precision and pride.

Dirty French was also closed until after five. Checking the back door, Rob found it locked. After repeatedly knocking, no one answered. With no other option, he walked across the street to a small deli. After ordering a pastrami sandwich, he took a seat and called Andy.

"Andy Meyers," the voice answered.

"Hello, I'm Rob Anderson, I'm in town on a job search and I was given your number from a fellow CIA grad, Nick Wallace. He said you place chefs in jobs, that's just what I am here for, so you sound like the guy I need."

Andy's voice became enthusiastic. "Hell yeah Rob, that's exactly what I do. When can you come by the office and go over your experience and job requirements?"

Andy's tone excited Rob. "I could come right now. Where are you located?"

Hearing the address, Rob realized it was across town. At least five subway transfers away. "I'm downtown. What do you say about meeting in an hour?" Rob asked.

Andy agreed. "See you then, just tell the receptionist to call up for me."

Rob finished his sandwich hurriedly. Tossing the wax paper in the trash bin, he left regretting not being able to take his time and enjoy his classic City treat to it's fullest. It had been a long time since the singularly unique flavor of real New York Deli pastrami passed his lips.

"Cincinnati is loaded with Jews, but no one seems to be able to replicate this true New York Jewish deli flavor," he thought as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Dashing down to the subway, he began the trek uptown to the address. Walking the last few blocks, Rob slowed his pace as to not arrive looking and smelling like he was fresh from a gym. The cool conditioned air hit him hard as he strolled into the chilly lobby.

"Hello, I'm Rob Anderson, here to see Andy Meyers please."

The attendant at the desk picked up a phone. "Mr. Meyers... I have a Rob Anderson here to see you..." After a few seconds, she hung up the phone and pointed to the elevator doors. "Mr. Meyers is on the twenty seventh floor. Suite 2771. It's on the right off the elevator."

Rob just made the lift before the doors snapped shut. Rising up through the building he felt his pulse quicken. "This could be it... If this doesn't work, I'm probably fucked," he thought to himself as he stared aimlessly at the shoes of the other passengers.

Opening the glass door, Rob stepped into the office. Andy shot him a 'hello' from his desk in the other room.

"Come on in Rob. Take seat."

Shaking his hand over the desk, Rob sat down, facing the amazing view of the cityscape.

"So, you are a CIA grad?" Andy asked.

Rob nodded. "Yes sir. 2005."

Andy noted it on his paper. "What's your experience been so far?"

Rob detailed the names and dates of his employment since graduating until the present. He left out the mention that he was cooking at The Pub. Andy typed into his laptop as Rob waited silently. As he typed, he asked more questions.

"Any arrests, or felonies?"

Rob shook his head. "Not so far. I have a clean record."

Andy smiled. "Not so far... I like that."

Rob watched as Andy scrolled through screens on his monitor. "Any pending lawsuits... foreclosures, repos, judgments, shit like that?"

Rob shook his head again. "Nope. I don't think I own anything anyone would want to take."

Andy shrugged. "Some of these employers, they're weird about being mentioned in association with someone in legal trouble. Bad for business sort-a thing. They really try to avoid anyone they think might get them bad press."

Sitting back in his chair, Andy turned his laptop towards him. "Well, right now I have twenty six openings for everything from part-time prep cook to full-time lead cook, plus a souse chef, a catering chef supervisor, a pastry chef, a sushi chef part time... The list goes on."

Rob brightened up in his seat. "That's awesome! The sous chef job, how much does that pay?" Andy clicked his keyboard.

"That's a position at... Bridgeport Inn, upper Westside. It pays 43-57 depending on experience. You don't have any rock star names on your resume, but still it looks solid. I'd say they would offer you something on the low end though."

Rob pondered the numbers out-loud. "Forty three is about $3500 a month... Minus rent, of about $1500... That leaves..."

Andy cut him off with a laugh. "Fifteen hundred for rent? Do you have a bulletproof vest? Unless you're up for a two hour commute, you will be living in a burned out roach infested shell of a crack house for that price. You had better budget twenty five hundred for rent. Or somewhere close."

Rob looked crushed. "That's not even enough for rent and utilities, let alone food, Ellen and our baby."

Andy shot him a glance. "You have a baby?"

Rob smiled and nodded. "Yep! My first is on the way."

Andy leaned back to the desk. "Does the mom work too?"

Rob shook his head. "She does, but she needs to take it easy until the baby comes. There was a problem early on, but she's fine now if she lays off hard work."

Andy frowned. "I'm not going to kid you. It will be rough living here on forty-three man. Moving expenses, rent, a single income and a baby to boot. You're going to need to take home at least six to seven grand a month to make it."

Rob sat silent in bad vibes as he felt his phone buzz silently in his pocket. "Do you have any jobs that pay that, or around there? Ellen's sister will be living with us. She will pitch in too."

Andy leaned back again. "Sometimes, but not at the moment. In this biz, to get a head or executive chef spot you need to come off the payroll of a hot name. Dufresne, David Chang, Ripert, Hamilton, Pasternack, Boulud. Shit I can probably get a dishwasher from a Batali kitchen into an executive chef start up job. Most good paying start-ups, they thrive on the names. They want to run press releases that read, 'Chef Rob Anderson, Formerly of Eric Ripert's La Bernardin.' It's an easy sell. It doesn't matter if the guy stood crouched under a cellar scraping fish scales everyday, never touching a stove. Just the mention of a celebrity chef association sells the place in the press, and brings in the foodies."

Rob felt a terrible sinking in his stomach. "I guess I'm fucked," he said in a whisper.

"I wouldn't say that." Andy replied.

"Occasionally I get a request for a truly solid chef to fill an unexpected void. Tell you what. We have a friend in common, I just had my first kid too, besides, I like you already. I will keep you at the top of my list. If you choose to apply for any of the openings we were talking about, call me. I can put you to work tomorrow."

Rob stood up, shaking Andy's hand he thanked him.

"Tell Nick I said next time he's buying," Andy said with a laugh as Rob turned to leave.

Rob decided to head back downtown. The last name on the list, Rusty, worked near his hotel at Les Halles, better known for it's famous owner Anthony Bourdain.

"That would be a dream job," Rob thought as he passed the subway turnstile. It had the level of name recognition Rob could use on his resume to open doors in the future.

Seeing it in person for the first time, Rob was surprised at the quaintness of the famous eatery. It didn't strike him as a celebrity chef kind of place. Inside, he found the ambiance low key. The room had a 'Cheers' look with its antique flair. Rich dark wood, big mirrors and bigger windows framed the walls. Turn of the century tin tiled ceilings against muted colored walls looked perfectly fitting. Classic original New York décor with a French bistro vibe.

Rob was glad to see the lunch crowd had already come and went, as most of tables were vacant.

Standing at the hostess desk, he waited for someone to appear. A slim young man trotted over with a feminine gate.

"Would you like a table sir?" he asked with a lisp. Rob explained he was here to see Chef Rusty Wren. The slim man flipped a page in a schedule book, running his finger down the list.

"He comes in at four thirty today. Would you like to come back, or maybe wait at the bar and have a bite, or a drink?"

Rob nodded and followed the smiling host to a cozy corner table.

"Your server will be right with you. I will tell Rusty you're here when he comes in," he said with a wink.

Rob thanked him as he sat back in the chair, soaking in the ambiance. Instantly, a server showed up with a menu and introduced herself.

"Hello there, I'm Kali. Here is a lunch menu for you. Our dinner menu won't be available until five thirty. What can I get you to drink?"

Scanning the menu, he noticed a cider that interested him. "Etienne Dupont," he replied with a curious tone.

The server thanked him and dashed off to the bar. Returning with the cider, she dropped it off smiling, without even a pause as she passed by. Glancing over the menu, he noticed even the lunch menu was pricey; twenty to thirty dollars for most items, up to forty-five dollars for some dishes. At eight dollars, the cider was the best value of all. Sipping the refreshing drink, he settled into his surroundings. Setting the glass down, he found himself obsessed with the impressive crisp flavor.

After a brief wait, Rob noticed a burly, bearded cook in clean whites pass by the window on the sidewalk out of the corner of his eye. Hoping it was Rusty, he watched anxiously for him to walk in. The cook walked to the entrance, holding the door for someone... Rob couldn't believe it. It was Bourdain himself.

Straining to see the pair, he got a better look as they stood in the lobby. It was Rusty. The host pointed to Rob's table. Rusty looked confused as he bobbed his head Rob's way.

Rusty and Tony walked side by side, talking in low voices about something private as they walked past the tables to the kitchen door. Rusty paused; looking at Rob with a double take, he smiled with his mouth open wide. Stopping at the kitchen doors, he came bouncing over to Rob's table as Tony disappeared on into the kitchen. With arms outstretched, Rusty thumped his big feet fast across the floor. Rob stood up from his seat just time to be picked up off the ground in a bear hug.

"Anderson!" Rusty yelled loudly, setting Rob back down.

Holding Rob by the shoulders he looked him up and down, rustling his hair. "It's good to see you brother! What the fuck are you doing here man?"

Rob smiled and sat back down. "I'm New York job hunting."

Rusty raised one bushy eyebrow and fingered his beard. "Whoa! That's a mountain to climb there. So any prospects yet, are you moving back?"

Rob shook his head. "Doesn't look good so far. If I get a job, I'm moving back. I was hoping you might need a good hand on the line here."

Rusty sat down at the table. "Fuck, I'd love that, but I doubt it. All these guys have worked here forever. I'm the newest and I've been here over a year. It just doesn't turn over here. I needed a job and a bartender who owed me money got me in here as a prep cook. A fuckin' ten dollar an hour prep cook dude! Can you imagine that? A CIA degreed chef, with good names under my belt, coming in here and just cuttin' shit up all day. All early in the morning and shit. That's all I did for like... five months. It was worth it though." Rusty could see the hopelessness on Rob's face and cut his story short.

Shaking Rob's shoulder he tried to consul him. "Hey don't break down over this place man. This is TV branded shit. These jobs are the hardest to get in on." He could see the sullen fill Rob's face. Shaking him by the shoulders, he smiled. "Don't sweat it. There are so many fucking places opening up everyday. I mean everyday for real man! This town is rougher then wiping a bad case of monkey butt with rusted brillo pads, but you still got to be here to get into something great. You gotta' get in the mix, be in the right place at the right time."

Rob nodded. He understood. New York was the epicenter of culinary experiences in all of America. He felt foolish now, having come all this way for nothing.

"How soon do you need work?" Rusty asked.

"Not immediately, I still work and live in Cincy, I would come back for an interview."

Rusty rubbed his beard with his thumb and forefinger. "Fuck! I can't think of shit, but I can ask around at the bars, and the other chefs I know. Someone has got to hear of something sooner or later. I will put the word out. Give me your number. If something comes up I will call."

Rob felt a wave relief as he exchanged numbers. He knew Rusty was dead honest, even to his own undoing at times. Rob felt a jolt as Rusty slapped the table with both bands.

"Rob Fucking Anderson! I miss you man! We used to get so soused at that little bar in SoHo. Man, remember that Latina bitch that stole your wallet and we couldn't pay our tab? We ended up hanging out with her and her friends anyway. I had a threesome with her two Mexican friends! You passed out hard. We dowsed you the next morning with ice water, even that didn't wake you up. We nearly freaked out thinking you were dead. That night was fucking crazy! Every time I see a hot Mexican chick I still think of that shit."

Rob laughed. Rusty mussed Rob's hair hard again before heading to the kitchen. "I gotta' get to work, but you got my number and I have yours. When I hear of a job worth fucking working at, I will call you first thing. Til' then, you better get your ass up here and drink with me. What are you drinking anyway?"

Rob held out his glass with pride. "Really good cider."

Rusty smiled, pointing a thick finger at him, winking like a comforting Santa Claus.

"Good choice, that shit's on tap. I can only get good prices on the draft stuff."

Turning to the bartender, Rusty yelled out to him. "Eh! Marc. Marc! Hello Marky Marc!"

The bartender stayed his course, cutting limes with his back turned. Slapping the table hard five times, Rusty yelled to the bartender again, louder this time.

"Marky Marc-the-goddamn-deaf-bartender! "Yo! Can you fucking hear me? Do you need a Miracle Ear for Christmas?"

Everyone in the room including Marc could hear Rusty bellow across the room. Marc turned slowly, looking at Rusty with a glance from one eye.

"Usually people come to the bar and ask for drinks, not yell them across the room from their table. But, be my guest. Yell it out big man, what do you want?"

Rusty scowled at Marc, holding out an arm, pointing at Marc's face. "Mind your tone Markey Mark. I don't take no shit off no fucking bartender boy, and neither does my friend Rob here."

Rusty grabbed Rob's shoulder with a strong hand as he stared at the bartender. Rob was shocked at his words. The two were locked in a dead stare, Rusty pointed to Rob.

"This guy won't just kick you in your fag cunt Marky Marc. He'll stab you in the fucking neck with this fork right here in front of everybody! This guy is old school. Know what I mean? You don't even want to mess with this cat."

Rusty stared with a grimace at the bartender. Rob hung his head in embarrassment as every employee in the room shot him a glance.

Picking up a fork, Rusty made Charlie Manson crazy eyes at Marc who was standing in a dead still stare. Rob felt nervous panic. All eyes were on the two employees locked in a stare down. Rusty lunged but didn't move from his space. Marc stood still. Rob began to really worry. Suddenly, they both burst into laughter. Rusty bellowed out his big laugh, lightening Rob's nervousness instantly.

"Do you really want something or what?" Marc said, still laughing.

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot. A drink right here for my man Rob. Cider, on me. Keep em' coming until he's dead. He's here from Ohio... Ohio man! That's Little King land. He needs a true New York cider drunk."

A concerned manager poked his head out the kitchen door to see who was causing all the commotion. Rob noticed the manager's frustrated look and scooted back in his seat.

"That's our fucking French manager 'Simon', don't worry about him," Rusty said laughing.

Speaking louder, he looked the manager's way.

"He's a chicken shit!" Pointing the Frenchman's way, Rusty yelled out to him. "That's right! You heard me froggy!"

The manager looked at him with contempt.

"Keep staring at me like that fag... You know I will stomp you're Frenchy ass so hard!" Rusty yelled, staring meanly at the obviously embarrassed manager.

Rob felt bad for the guy.

"He knows I'm just kidding, I like him fine... for a French guy and all. He a can be a douche though sometimes," Rusty said quietly.

Rob laughed. He forgot how blunt and boisterous Rusty could be when excited. He looked like a pissed off Hell's Angel version of Zac Galifianakis. Huge tattoos, a big pirate's beard and a thick mop of twisted hair. Both bushing out wildly from his oversized head.

Rusty stood with his hands together on the table, heavy silver rings on his fingers. He certainly looked like he could flatten the poor Frenchman manager, but under the gruff outside, he was a cupcake inside. Unless you pissed him off, which was surprisingly hard to do.

The bartender held up a free cider for Rob, motioning to the server. Rob thanked Rusty graciously. Rusty stopped him short.

"Don't worry about it. It's good to see you man. I hope you move the fuck back here and hang out. I haven't had a threesome since the last time you lived here. You're good luck man."

They hugged with a back slap and shook hands again before Rusty walked through the kitchen doors, leaving Rob at the table alone as the smiling server brought over the cider.

"Thanks Kali," he said as she sat it down, taking the empty pint away in a fast swoop.

Rob felt his phone buzz in his pocket again. Looking at it, he saw a text from an unknown number.

Checking the message, he read it curiously. "Hearing over, I got one year, with six months suspended, no money for bail. Take the Hyundai home to my parents please. Thanks, Ben."

Subtle sadness set in as he finished his cider. Leaving cash on the table, Rob left Las Halle, walking to the subway. As he pushed past the crowd, he called Ellen.

"I'm coming back early. I'm leaving when I check out of the room."

She was worried over his short tone. "What happened? Is everything okay?"

He feigned a laugh as he answered. "Yeah, everything is fine. I didn't find what I came here for. It's not worth wasting more money on another night. I'm not even bothering with looking any further. But I have a couple good contacts."

Ellen wished him a safe trip as they hung up.

Beginning the long drive home, Rob considered the revelation that the average entry-level chef job in New York paid less than he had made at The Pub the last night he worked. It was a massive disappointment for certain. His money, time and effort were essentially wasted on the job hunt. Except for the Andy and Rusty connection. That was an unexpected bonus that could pay off, if fate would just come his way.

Heading west from the city, the miles clicked by for hours until Rob finally turned onto an Ohio highway. With nothing to do but think, he thought about the math of the move and life in New York, comparing it to his status quo.

"If The Pub could support... say seventy entrees a night, maybe forty or fifty apps and sandwiches... at an average check of twenty bucks on entrees and ten on apps & sandwiches... If I can walk with $300, six nights a week, that's $1800 a week. I can't even get that in New York and it's cheaper to live in Cincy. I have to get back and work this Pub thing out, push it all the way. I have a great crew. Katie is trustworthy. I can do this. I guess it took going to New York for me to realize I have the best opportunity right where I am."

Rob drove with renewed energy as he planned out his strategy. In a push to get home faster, Rob dared to inch the gas pedal down on the rattling Hyundai, setting his cruise control at 78 mph. When he first left the glimmering city he was filled with hopelessness and despair. Now, as he sped home, he was uplifted by the experience and the realization The Pub could give them all security. He simply needed to focus on home, and packing The Pub with hungry diners.

"To get a following, I need a hook... A niche, something honest, something authentic... It has to have cheap ingredients so we can sell it cheap. Ingredients that several menu items can share... Something usual, but unusually good."

He pondered the menu possibilities in his head with great concentration. Counting the ingredients and cross referencing them to see how many other dishes he could make with the same shared basic staple of foods. Nothing clicked. He knew what he wanted, just not exactly what it was.
Chapter 10

Merging onto I-275, he called Ellen. "I'm an hour away."

She told him she had to go do the laundry down the block and would be there for another hour.

"Why? What's wrong with the laundry room at the apartment?" he asked.

Slowly, she told him a horrid tale about how another tenant put a pair of fully 'loaded' underwear in the washer. Even after the cycle was over, and the clothes were removed, Ellen opened the door to find chunks of feces stuck on the sides of the washer.

"I'm not using it ever again," she said as the story painted a visual in Rob's mind.

"Hell no! I wouldn't use it either. That's sick," Rob replied as he watched for police cars hidden in the median.

As they said their goodbyes, the radio played a familiar tune. "You tell me this town ain't got no heart... Well well well, you can never tell... The sunny side of street is dark... Well well well, you can never tell. Don't tell me this town ain't got no heart, you just gotta' poke around..."

It reminded him of Micah and his Dead music mixes. With a new understanding of the lyrics, Rob turned up the volume, he sang along, merging onto the last highway home.

Laughing to himself, he thought about Micah dancing to this very tune during a savagely busy night. He shook his head at the hilarious image of Micah twisting and swaying, snapping his fingers and bobbing his head, his headphones cranked up so loud even Rob could hear the song over the chaotic kitchen clatter.

"Good times, he's Good People. I miss that hippie bastard. He instinctively knew to run the day Harden took over. I wanted to run too, but if I had, I would have never got the free food to start up our Pub thing. I guess that's a slice of fate that shined my way," he said out loud as the song came to an end.

Turning off the exit, Rob snaked the little Korean car through the Newport streets to Miguel's. Starving, he thought about stopping for take-out. Thinking of every option open, he realized none of it was worth eating. Then he remembered Maria's fabulous Pho. She seemed to keep the makings on hand at all times.

His appetite grew as he imagined the aroma of the smoking skillet as it sizzled cabbage, carrot and Miguel's smoked chilies. The simple dish trumped all the drive-thru menus in spades.

Walking up to the apartment door, Rob felt excitement rushing through him, he was glad to be back. He hoped Ellen would be home the instant he opened the door. Sadly, she was nowhere to be found. Her laundry and chores meant she wouldn't be home for another half hour at least. He looked at the clock.

"This sucks. The only saving grace is that it gives me time to get cleaned up," he said.

Setting his bag by the hall closet, he headed for the kitchen. Hoping to see Maria's ingredients for the Pho in the fridge. In the silent apartment, he heard the unmistakable sounds of sex.

"Uh... uh... uh... ah... yeah..."

Stopping dead in his tracks, he listened closer, walking slowly towards the sound.

"Hmmm... you like that baby..."

It was Miguel's voice. Rob was used to Miguel bringing home girls from the bar. But it was early in the evening.

"Who would be here this time of day?" he wondered as he stepped closer.

Pausing in the hallway, he realized the sex sounds were coming from Maria's room. Rob thought about the problem if Maria came home from the laundry and found Miguel having sex in her bed. Cracking the door open just enough to see what was going on, he saw Miguel kneeling on the floor. His head buried between the legs of a tanned girl lying across Maria's bed. Not wanting to embarrass the unsuspecting female, he closed the door and knocked on it lightly.

Suddenly the sounds stopped. He heard hushed voices. Miguel came out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Amigo. What the fuck? I didn't know you were coming back so soon," Miguel said.

"I don't think it's me that's coming," Rob said teasingly.

Miguel smiled coyly. "Don't tell Ellen about dees right?" he asked.

Rob agreed. "I won't tell Ellen, but if Maria finds out you have a slut in her bed she might kick your ass."

Miguel smiled, shaking his head. "She won't care amigo."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "She's gonna' care. You better get that girl out of there, Maria and Ellen could come home any minute."

Walking back into the room, Miguel shut the door. Rob went back to the kitchen shaking his head with a smile. As he was setting out the containers of ingredients on the counter he saw Miguel come back out of the bedroom. Picking out handfuls of sliced veggies, he glanced at the bedroom door as he tossed them into the sizzling pan.

The girl walked out, staying close behind Miguel. Coming into the living room Rob saw her more clearly. Tossing his veggies with a spatula, he looked over his shoulder again to see who the girl was. He couldn't believe his eyes... It was Maria.

Rob's eyes widened, his throat knotted. Coughing, he pointed at Miguel. Miguel saw his look and cut him off.

"Amigo. It's not what it seems. We didn't..."

Rob waved his hand at him. "I know what it was. I can't believe you! I fucking told you. The one and only thing I asked of you to do was to leave her alone. I was only gone a day and now... What am I supposed to think now?"

Miguel continued his defense. "I'm telling you amigo... Eets not what you think. I like her the most. I mean I really like her. She's the most awesome girl I ever met. Ands she's hot too. Look at her man. I can't fight my feelings muchacho. I'm only a man."

Miguel hugged the now embarrassed Maria. Looking down at the floor, she stood embarrassed as Rob tried to look at her eyes.

Pushing the pan off the burner, Rob stopped cooking. "Maria. You tell Ellen. I'm out of it. I tried my best and now I'm out. You two can do whatever you want sure, I just don't want you to be a fling and be sad, or... whatever."

With that, Rob focused back on the food, dunking noodles into the steaming broth. Maria stood dead still. Miguel felt the nervous silence in the room. Walking to the kitchen, he patted Rob's shoulder.

"You will see. No more girls except Maria. That's all I want. Don't be mad amigo please."

Tossing the sizzling veggies, Rob shook his head. "I'm not mad. I just don't want Maria to get used. And I don't want to take the heat when Ellen finds out. You think Maria is tough? Just try explaining this to Ellen."

Miguel shared his sentiment and agreed.

Maria spoke up. "It's okay Rob. I thank you very much for caring for me. I will talk to Ellen when she comes home. I am not, how do you say? Naïve as a child?"

Rob felt awkward. Normally he wouldn't get involved in any one else's sex affairs. But Maria was different. He felt the need to protect her from the guys who would want to take advantage of her. He knew Miguel was a great guy, but also a savage whore hound. Maria would be wise to hold off and wait for someone dedicated to her.

"I know you're not naive Maria. Shit, I feel safe because you are around. I know you can fend for yourself. Guys like Miguel are just..."

Maria interjected. "Wanting in the pants? The men here are nothing compared to the ones in my country. There, they see a woman they want, or a little girl... they just grab her up. Take her and make her do what they say. Then dump her on the road or sell her to a bar. I only lived to this age because they thought I was a boy. I have pretended to take many girls, hundreds of times in my life, just to seem a normal man to them. I know men Rob. I have seen what they do. They do whatever they can. Beasts!" she yelled, holding out a straining fist with angry eyes.

Rob nodded. "You hear that Miguel? Fuck her over and see what happens. It won't be like that time the girl from White Castle came to The Pub and created a scene when you wouldn't call her back after fucking her brains out for a week. This time, you'll be running for Mexico, if you can even walk."

Miguel laughed. "I'm telling you amigo. You have Ellen. I want Maria, the same way. You will see." He patted Rob again as he shook the pan, sliding the sizzling smoky veggies into the steaming bowl.

"I know one thing. You won't be eating crap with her around. I can cook this up somewhat, but she adds something special to it I haven't caught on to yet," Rob said.

Maria giggled and thanked Rob. "I want to learn to cook enchilada!" she said smiling.

Miguel hugged her tight with both arms. "Of course you do. And you will learn too. Mexican food ees the best in the world, especially my momma's, she will teach you, you will see," he said, hugging her.

Rob settled onto the beat down couch. Sinking into the springs, he sipped the hot broth, adding in chili paste out of a jar with his fork. Ellen came in the door with a bag of laundry.

"Hey guys! What's up?" Turning the corner, she saw Rob. "I was hoping you'd be here! Come in the bedroom while I fold this stuff. I can't wait to hear all about the trip."

Rob followed her into the room, glancing at Maria with a knowing look as he passed by.

"Tell me all about it. This chef friend of yours, Rusty, do you think he can find you a job?" Ellen asked.

Rob swallowed his Pho as he nodded. "He will if he can. But I decided. I want to stay here, make the most of The Pub. I think it has the best potential for me after all."

Ellen folded the clothes and asked more questions about the trip. Rob replied between bites.

"It wasn't too exciting. Not near as eventful as coming back home," he replied, taking a bite in between sentences. Ellen didn't understand his curious comment.

"What do you mean, coming home?" she asked.

Rob laughed as he slurped tangled noodles.

"You'll see," he said. "Ask Maria. She will have to explain."

Ellen stopped folding, turning to him quickly. "What do you mean Rob? Explain what?" Her look changed from happy to dead serious.

"I told her to explain to you herself. I'm out of it." Resuming his meal, he ignored her stare.

"Go ask her yourself. She's your sister. I'm just saying..." he said, waving his arm as he forked another bite. Sitting dead still, he focused on his Pho, watching her expression in quick glances.

"Tell me now Rob," she said worried.

He knew she wouldn't give up.

"I walked in and found Miguel uh... Well, he was... uh..."

Ellen raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips as she placed a hand on her hip. "He was what? What Rob?"

Rob stopped eating. "He was... Well, he was, licking your sister's soft spot."

Gasping, Ellen's mouth shot open. "What! He was what? With Maria!"

Rob shook his head. "Yep," he said with a smile as he ate another bite. "Just a few minutes ago. And she liked it too. She told me herself, she likes him. They are a couple now or whatever, I guess."

Covering her mouth, she scowled. "What? No... Why? Damn him!"

Rob waved at her as she jumped to the door. Rising, he called out to her. "Don't start freaking out. She knows all about how we feel. She wants to do what she wants. We can't say anything about it. You can, but it won't matter. Might as well go with the flow on this one."

Shooting him a look of anger, Ellen stopped and turned. "Go with the flow? To hell with that Rob! She's a virgin. He's a... he's a damn sex addict. Him and Armando have sex with ten or fifteen different girls a month. I am not going to stand by and watch him hurt Maria..." She stormed back towards the door as she continued her rant.

Rob watched from the hall, eating his food as Ellen pelted Miguel with an onslaught of curses with waving arms. Maria pulled her aside by her sleeve.

"Ellen, you care for me so much. I love you. But I want to... you know. You have Rob and I have no one... I have never known... Don't be angry with Miguel. He could never touch me if I didn't approve. I wanted to. Please don't be mad."

Ellen hugged her as tears welled in her eyes. "I just want the best for you... I love you so much."

Miguel heard her and spoke out. "Hey! Why am I not dee best? What do you mean 'Only want the best?' I am the best! I'm good looking. I can cook good. I make money. I gonna' be a chef too. A good chef like Rob. You will see."

Hugging Maria, Miguel pointed at Ellen. "You think I just use her for sex. But I only want Maria, like you only want Rob, I want only her."

Maria smiled at Ellen with pleading in her eyes. Ellen realized Rob was right. There was no use getting involved any further.

Maria had taken control of her life and Ellen's vote was not going to be counted. "I hope you treat her like she deserves Miguel," Ellen said firmly. "She's an amazing, beautiful woman. She deserves a man that loves her more than anything in the world."

Miguel was hugging Maria tight. "Si! si. That's what I am trying to say. I am the one to love her."

Ellen watched as the two hugged and smiled at one another. She had serious concerns, but at the same time she was excited at the idea of Maria's first romance.
Chapter 11

Finishing his Pho, Rob washed out the bowl. Heading back to the bedroom he found Ellen in bed already. "You going to bed early?" he asked.

She waved the sheet off of her body for an instant, flashing him a glimpse of her completely nude body. "Nope. Well, I hope not anyway," she replied with a sly smile.

Smiling back, he sat on the bed beside her. "Did you miss me?" he asked as he slid his hand between her legs.

"Every single second of every minute of every hour," she replied as he kissed her neck under her ear.

"Well, now I'm here. So you can stop missing me and start kissing me," he said softly.

Her lips pecked his neck as he leaned down, whispering in her ear. Rob continued kissing her as his fingers found their way down to her womanhood. She was slick with hot wetness.

"Wow. You really did miss me," he said as he eased a finger into her. His touch made her gasp. Biting her lip, she looked into his eyes.

"Remember our first night in Can Tho?" she asked in a whisper.

He nodded as he pushed into her, a bit deeper with each stroke.

"Remember what you did first?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He smiled. "Kissed your wetness?"

She pushed him with a jerk. "Don't say it like that. Kissed me in my special place. I like that better."

He smiled wider. "I'll kiss you in your special place all right," he said as he slid under the sheet. His mouth found her tingling button. Sucking on her gently with lips gripped tight, he twitched his tongue over her hot spot. He felt it stiffen and harden, straining out against his touch. Her legs parted wider, she pulled his head into her with both hands. Guiding him, she moved him against her, positioning his tongue to just the right spot.

Shaking slightly, Ellen gasped aloud as he circled her with quick strokes. Tightening his lips down around her, then gently tugging. Buzzing his lips as he encircled her tenderness, she shivered.

After a mere few minutes, he knew she was ready to go. Slipping two fingers into her, he pushed up against her pelvis with his fingertips. Rubbing small oblong circles, he pulled her up against his lips with his a strong hand. Ellen's legs quivered, she gasped louder. He worked his upturned fingers harder, his tongue flicking tight circles around her most sensitive spot at a rapid pace. The tingle built up, growing stronger, spreading deep into her womb, up her spine, flushing her face with sweating desire.

"Yes! That's it. Right there. Don't stop," Ellen cried out softly as his fingers pushed hard into her, nearly picking her up off the bed.

Taking a deep breath, then sucking with all his force, Rob began a deep toned hum as he tongued her harder. Focusing the vibrations of his hum directly into her most tender spot, he coaxed her on. Suddenly she gasped out loud as she buzzed with a shaking full body orgasm.

"Oh god!" Her thighs began to quiver around Rob's head. Clamping them around him, she held him in place until the electric waves coursing through her slowly subsided. Slowing his pace, he lightened his touch to a gentle soothing swirl as she caught her breath and fell into a calm peace under his lips.

Ellen looked up as Rob rose off of her. Staring at him intensely with hungry eyes. "I want to feel you in me now," she whispered.

Laughing, he looked into her eyes. "Are you crazy? I can't do that yet," Rob said.

Ellen shot him a puzzled look. "Why not?" she asked.

He rested his head on her breasts. "Ellen, it's been two days. I will be done in like, seven seconds. I want to enjoy you. Linger in the feeling as long as I can, savor it, sink into it and make it last as long as possible."

She blinked three times fast. "So... What do you want to do?"

He touched his finger to her lips. "Your turn. Then, I can take my time."

Even the notion of a blowjob made her nervous. "You want me to... Then you will do it, again?" she asked curiously.

Rob nodded as he stared inches from her eyes. "A quick one now, then I can last through a long one."

Moving above her, resting his knees under her arms, he positioned himself. Catching her off guard, he pressed his manhood against her lips. He could barely wait for her to open her mouth. Pressing quickly, he inched past her lips. She opened wide, taking him deeper than she expected right off the bat. He pushed into her, filling her, stretching her jaw to a near painful extreme. The tip eased against her fleshy throat, gagging her. Coughing, she pushed him back.

"I can't take it that fast. You have to go slower."

Holding her head with both hands, he eased into her. Slowly, pushing in an inch more with each stroke. Pushing as deep as he could before she backed away, he found her tolerance. She grew comfortable with his thrusts and pulled him slightly deeper when she felt she could take more.

His pace picked up. Ellen squeezed her fingers around him tight. Pressing him against her tongue. Her free hand reached up nervously, lightly grasping him below his manhood. Rubbing him softly, she felt him grow larger in her fingers. Rob moaned, looking down at her. He was pushing from the hip.

She looked up. Her eyes locked onto his. Sensing her rubbing was sending him over the edge, she rubbed harder, squeezing as hard as she dared. His eyes squinted, his mouth twisted to a grimace, he stopped still. She felt his manhood pulse strongly on her tongue. He held her head as his orgasm erupted. She lay still, unable to breathe from his girth and his release in her mouth. Feeling a near panic, she instinctively swallowed so she could catch her breath again.

Pushing him out of her mouth, she coughed with a gasp. "Wow. You really needed that. You were right about the seven seconds. If you had held out longer I couldn't have held up. My jaw still hurts," she said, rubbing her face.

Kissing her on the forehead, he slid down beside her, slipping his finger back into her womanhood. "You're my sexy blow job master," he whispered. She smiled at his comment. His rubbing renewed her feelings of longing to have him inside her.

After a brief cuddle, he turned atop her again. "Spread those thighs my pretty pregnant lady. I'm ready to feel you."

Ellen pulled her legs back by her knees as he entered her with a smooth stroke. Pushing all the way in, he held himself inside her for several seconds, just holding still, letting the feeling sink into him. Pausing, he looked in her eyes, as she held breathless, silently straining.

Relaxing her, he pulled out. Pushing back in with slow strokes, he eased her legs down. Pushing her arms back over her head, he stretched her out before him. Lightly sucking on her rocking breasts, he moved his hips slow and deliberate. Taking full strokes, his thrusts filled her womb. He felt her breathing deepen, her legs opened wider, allowing him to sink deeper into her.

Ellen had been reluctant to have sex when people were in the apartment. Now, rocking under Rob, she felt completely comfortable. Nothing else mattered as her blood pumped soul-satisfying endorphins through her veins.

In a soft embrace, Rob held her as he continued his slow thrusts. Sensing her enthusiasm and newfound feeling of confidence, he pulled out of her. She looked at him with worried eyes as he spun her by the waist, turning her onto her belly.

Ellen was nervous as she rested on all fours. Picking her up by her hips, he pressed down in the small of her back. Following his guidance, she arched herself to the position. Her bottom held high, Rob grasp her hips, sliding into her from behind. She was fully exposed and she knew he was looking down at her bare form. A week ago she couldn't have taken the embarrassment. Now the nervousness was fading. She was relaxing even though she knew she was bearing her all for Rob to see. This was new ground. And she liked it.

Tucking her head into the pillow, her hips shook as Rob began to push into her. Shaking her along with the rhythm, he raised up on his knees as his pace sped up. Running one hand down her back, dragging his nails across her skin, he loved the very touch of her.

A rush of pleasure washed through her body, causing her to lips cry out into the pillow. Pushing against her from behind, he was thrusting deeper than she had ever felt before. She could barely think to breath as the feeling filled her from within.

Grabbing her with both hands by the shoulders, pulling her against him, he pressed down into her. Pushing even deeper than before, she felt her insides strain. Her tightness clamped down on him as he stopped still. With a groan he pulsed inside her. She could feel every twitch as he released into her womb.

Falling down on her from behind, Rob rested his head on her back. Sliding off to her side, he cuddled her tight, spooning her as she lay silently shaking.

They held each other close as they fell blissfully asleep. In Ellen's mind's eye, a dream swirled her into another reality. Standing at the door, she could see herself on the bed. The sleeping Ellen awoke, stretched her arms up high and floated through the roof. The watching Ellen reached up and followed. She could see the other Ellen above her, rising above the city, then high into clouds. Suddenly the two Ellen's became one. She floated along the breeze in misty air, looking down on the earth as a whole. Taking control of her path, she began to dance on the wind, swirling through clouds and sunshine in a soothing bliss.

She felt a supernatural force was surrounding her with peace and love as she slipped deeper into the dream. Suddenly the sky vanished. Everything went black, switched off like a television. Breathing grew harder. She couldn't help but to hold her breath altogether. A light blurred above her. Reaching up towards it, she pulled her outstretched arms down to her sides and moved closer to the light. The light turned form blurs to ripples. Reaching up and pulling down hard again, with a rush, she broke free to the surface, gasping out a long held breath as she burst into the open air. Catching her breath, she realized she was swimming in a warm summer pond. Her mother and father looked on from the shore, waving to her with a smile. She had never felt so alive.

Lying beside her in the bed, Rob was also deep in a dream. Standing beside a hospital bed, he watched as Ellen gave birth. He heard the screams and felt her pain. After strenuous pushing, crying and tense grunts, their baby came into the world. Squinting hard, the baby gasped and started to cry. The nurse held up the crying baby in her arms, showed it proudly to Ellen, then passed it off into the hands of a man.

Rob couldn't make out his face against the bright spotlight above his head. As his vision came clearer, he could see the man holding the baby up high was smiling with pride. The man's beaming face shined with joy as he rocked the child against his chest. Looking at the face, he realized it wasn't his own image... It was George.

The dream filled Rob's sleep with panic, shaking him awake with a jolt. Realizing he was still spooning Ellen, he sighed against her shoulder. Rooting his nose into her hair, he closed his eyes, breathing in her scent deeply. In minutes, her soothing peacefulness relaxed him back into a calming sleep.
Chapter 12

Ellen awoke to the sounds of sex coming from Maria's bedroom. After the murmurs subsided, she went to the bathroom. Intentionally making enough noise so that the lovers would realize someone was awake. Coming out, she walked down the hall to the kitchen to make coffee.

Stepping into the living room, she saw Armando's naked butt and bare legs sticking out from tangled covers. He was lying with a blonde girl, also naked. They lay sleeping under tangled sheets, his thigh wrapped around her. Ellen looked over at the patio door. The blind had been left open, and three young boys had stopped at the door. They stood silent, staring with huge eyes at the naked girl on the living room floor.

With a frown, she slammed the blind shut. The sound woke the naked blonde. Rising up, she pulled the sheet off, exposing her bare breasts. Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she yawned as Ellen ran water into the coffee pot.

"Oh, hey," the girl said rising up off the bedroll, digging her panties out of the tangles. Standing nude, she bent over to pull her panties up, her back turned to the hall. Ellen looked over to see her tugging the panties up over her knees. Her round bottom and clean-shaven womanhood was bared for all to see just as Rob stepped out of the door. Standing with eyebrows raised, he caught a full view of her bending over before him, sliding her panties over her bottom as she blocked the hallway. Ellen watched Rob's eyes as he stopped still, staring at the sight in the living room.

Breaking his stare. Rob looked up at Ellen. She turned away as she pushed the pot into the coffee maker and leaned into the fridge. Walking up to her close, he inched up behind her and whispered.

"Ah... Nothing like waking up to a surprise strip show in the living room by the dawn's early light."

She shot him a cold look as she set out the milk. He pinched her side, causing her to squirm. Tickling her, he pinned her against the fridge.

"Stop! Stop it Rob. I mean it. It's not funny."

Her squirm turned to laughing squeals as he continued. He let up when she bumped her head hard on the freezer door handle with a thump.

"Ouch! Jesus... Okay, okay, now stop it," she said, rubbing her head.

Rob rubbed it too as he kissed her on the forehead.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you smile instead of that terrible look you were getting. You are so pretty when you smile," he said with a kiss.

The barely dressed blonde sat at the couch and lit a freshly packed bowl. Looking through the smoke, she recognized Rob.

"Hey Rob," she said.

Rob looked over at her closer. It was Amanda.

Ellen leaned back against the fridge, watching with jealous eyes as Rob exchanged casual conversation with the friendly blonde.

In his mind's eye, he could feel Ellen's nervous glances behind him. Cutting his conversation short, he walked back to her. He watched her eyes turn from jealous to sad as she took a pan from the cabinet. Rob moved in close behind. Feeling his body warm her back as he leaned into her, Ellen started to crack an egg on the edge of the pan. Rob stopped her with his hand on top of hers.

Slowly guiding her hand over to the open counter, aligning his fingers perfectly atop hers, he whispered for her to crack the egg on the flat counter top. His warm touch took subtle control of her movement. With a slight tap, she split the shell under her fingertips. He felt the egg crack. Simultaneously, they moved their hands back over the pan.

"Never crack on the edge of a pan," he said quietly in her ear. "It leaves shell chips in the egg. Crack it on a flat surface then roll it out of the shell into the pan slowly, careful not to break the yolk, keep it centered in the pan. Spread the shell open with your fingers. Just like this..." he whispered.

Guiding her fingers with his own, he eased her thumb and forefinger apart. Instinctively, she followed his movements. Opening the shell, the egg gently slid into place with a sizzle into the skillet.

Ellen's hand stayed fixed, trembling under Rob's. Moving her hand back into the carton, they repeated the slow motions again with the second egg. After it too came to rest in the hot skillet, Ellen went to turn the first egg. Reaching for the spatula with her free hand, he slowed her motion with a soft tug at her elbow.

"See the egg's translucent edge? Wait until the white is firm, nearly browning before you disturb it or it will stick. You'll tear it and it will be ruined."

Her spatula hung in mid-air as she paused with his words. Releasing her hand, he slid his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder as he watched contently.

"Okay, now turn it," he whispered into the back of her neck.

She could feel the tingle of her hair rise on the back of her neck from his breath as she slid the edge of the spatula under the browning egg. It pulled away from the hot pan with ease. Holding it flat, Rob grasped her hand again.

"Now lay the edge of the tool against the pan, then tip the pan up to meet it halfway... slowly."

Ellen followed his instructions carefully, holding her breath in anticipation. The egg flipped over, sliding into place perfectly intact. As he held her hand, Rob rubbed her softly with his thumb.

"Is this egg easy, medium or well, chef?" he asked her.

Ellen shrugged. "However you like it I guess. It's for you."

Rob wormed his fingers down the waistband of her pants. "Nope, those are your eggs. It's all about how you like it."

She flipped the second egg with the same gentleness as the first.

"I want yoke to go with my toast," she replied.

Hugging her with both arms, his head still resting on her shoulder, he whispered again.

"That would be 'over easy'. So take them off after three seconds."

Counting to three in her head, she placed them on the plate one by one. The toast popped up from the squeaky toaster right on cue.

Rubbing her shoulders with a kiss on the neck, Rob walked back to the bathroom as Maria came into the room.

"Hey Maria Lee. You're looking especially bright today. I wonder why that would be?" he said with a sly smile as she passed.

She smiled, covering her mouth with a hand as she giggled from embarrassment. Ellen took her plate from the kitchen and sat beside Maria with her eggs and toast. The two looked over at Amanda sitting on the sofa, coughing from a huge puff of pot.

Armando stirred on the floor. "Who's cooking?" he asked, waking with eyes still closed.

"I'm thinking you are. If you want to eat," Ellen replied between bites of yolk soaked toast.

"Damn. I was hoping someone was cooking for me. All I ever do is cook."

Ellen feigned a laugh. "Well, that's not all you do..."

Army rose up. Realizing he was naked, he scrambled to cover himself. Looking around the room with squinting eyes, he saw the faces around him. Dressing under the covers, he jumped up off the floor. Walking to the kitchen, he looked into the fridge. Hanging on the door staring for a moment, he closed it back and flopped to the couch beside Amanda. She handed him the bowl. Smiling, he lit it, French inhaling the smoke. Slowly sucking it from his mouth to his nostrils. Holding it in, he coughed it back out after a half a minute.

"Fuck cooking. This is the best breakfast anyway," he said through his coughing.

Armando clicked on the TV. Surfing through the channels he stopped on the news. All eyes in the room shot towards the screen as they heard the reporter.

"Cincinnati prosecutors are investigating a multi-million dollar restaurant purchase today. Investigators are searching for the previous manager and owner for questioning in the sale of the popular riverfront property. Gina Gibbons is live on the water front, Gina?"

The group watched, glued to the screen with silent interest.

"Hi Rachel. I am here on the deck of the new Bahama Bay restaurant. Formerly, this location was known as The Good Ship Cincinnati, a popular hot spot that stole the spotlight on the riverfront with its fabulous food and river views."

Armando pointed as he passed the bong to Amanda. "Look, that's the Ship!" he said as Rob waved him quiet.

"Authorities say actions surrounding the sale of the Good Ship could even lead to criminal indictments. Due to complaints from the new owners and an unnamed New York investment firm, authorities are now investigating to determine if any illegal activity was taken place. Among the people detectives want to question, two names have been released, George Achmed and Charley Peyton..."

Ellen's fork hovered in place, inches from her mouth as she watched in frozen silence.

"Gina, have there been any formal charges? What do we know right now?" the desk reporter asked.

"Rachel, earlier this morning I met with assistant prosecutor Allen Donner. He explained that currently there are no formal charges filed as of yet. However, detectives have been unable to locate Mr. Achmed, or former manager, Charlie Peyton. Ms. Peyton is a local twenty four year old, whom detectives say, was in control up of the business up until the day after the multi-million dollar real estate deal was finalized. Currently, both the Ship's manager and the prior owner are unaccounted for, their whereabouts are unknown at this time."

The camera turned to the solemn faced man on the news reporter's right.

"Detective Mitchell, what can you tell us about the two people in question."

The camera zoomed in on the nervous man.

"Just to be clear, we have filed no charges at this time. We are looking for Ms. Peyton and Mr. Achmed simply for questioning. We received a formal complaint from the purchasing company's attorneys and another from a New York finance company. Our department is taking this very seriously; we're talking about millions of dollars here. That's all we can say at this point."

The camera flashed back to the news reporter.

"Wow what an interesting story Gina,"

Turning to the camera, the reporter continued on.

"We will keep you updated as more details come in. If you have any information on the whereabouts of either Charlie Peyton, or George Achmed, please call our crime watch hotline at the number on your screen."

Rob shot Ellen a blank stare. Miguel walked out into the room. "Was going on? Why everybody so quiet?"

Rob pointed to the TV. Miguel watched through sleepy eyes.

"Thanks Gina. Now, Matt has some good news on what can expect from the sunshine this week."

Miguel shrugged. What's the big deal?"

Rob pointed again.

"You just missed it. The news said the cops are looking for George and Charlie... Some investigation about the sale of The Ship."

Miguel raised his eyebrows. "Sheet... Dees isn't good."

"You think they will come here amigo?" Army asked.

"The cops? Coming here? Dees ees some bullshit!" Miguel replied.

Rob waved at Armando. "Don't eat your weed just yet my amigo. I'm sure they won't bother tracking us down. But just in case, keep that pot and those pipes tucked out of sight at all times. I don't need my entire line going to jail."

Miguel looked at Armando with a frown. "Or worse, getting sent back to Mexico."

Armando jumped up. "We need to move! I'm not going back to Mexico!"

Miguel calmed him. "Dees place ees in my sister's name. I didn't have an ID; she had to sign the lease. They even don't know we live here. You need to relax, that sheet ees making you paranoid."

Amanda suddenly blurted out. "Hey... I know that Charley girl. She goes to the same hair salon as me. I heard her there talking about her job one day. Yeah, she worked on The Ship. She buys Aderal from our bartender. I met her a few times, she seemed like a bitch," Amanda said as she nudged Armando to pass the bong.

Rob and Ellen looked at one another in wide-eyed wonder. "This isn't good Rob," Ellen said with worried eyes. "Sooner or later they will want to talk to you, me, everyone. Those reports..." Ellen said with a wrinkled forehead.

Rob gave her a look to stop there. "There are no reports. There are no records, no computer, no Ship, no Lady Jane, no paychecks, no savings and no George. It's all gone to me and he's gone too, probably living it up in the Middle East or some shit by now. It's over. They're chasing a ghost. Charlie on the other hand... What the hell is she going to do?"

Ellen shrugged. "Maybe she is with George."

Rob laughed. "Yeah right. He can get a hundred girls better than Charley. Why drag her bitchy ass around the world? He screwed her more than he screwed us, and harder."

Ellen suddenly felt sorry for Charlie. She was a condescending, self-centered bitch for certain. Yet, somehow Ellen doubted she was instrumental in any type of criminal multi-million dollar scam.

Following Rob to the bedroom, Ellen fell on the bed with a sigh. With a wave, she called him over. "I can't live like this. This is crazy... Group nudity, constant pot smoking, late night drunken sex parties... Maria is squealing in her bedroom next to me now... Army is naked in the living room and so is that damn Amanda..."

Rob nudged her. "What do you have against Amanda?"

Ellen shot him a stare. "Really? You just saw her full glory up close and personal. Why would I not want her in my living room naked with my... boyfriend? I wonder why I don't like her... Maybe it's... maybe it's her political views. That's it Rob!"

Rob laughed, tickling Ellen again. "She's fine. She's a hippie. It's probably not even sexual to her."

Ellen crossed her arms tight. "I don't care what she is. I don't want other girls displaying their woman parts for my boyfriend to see in my own house."

Rob kissed her on the ear. "It's not your house. It's Miguel's and Army's. We are sleeping in their rooms. They have nowhere else to sleep except their own living room. Their beds, their rooms, their privacy, it was all given to us. It's a lot to give up for friend in need. Three friends to be exact."

Even though her feelings were quite valid, Ellen knew he was right. "We need to move Rob. I don't care where. Let's go look today."

Rob agreed. "I want to be as close to The Pub as possible. These cab rides are killing me."

Ellen frowned. "That's not the best neighborhood, It's not much better than here."

Rob nodded in agreement. "I need a car. Then we could move anywhere, somewhere quitter and safer."

Ellen counted the money in their meager savings. "$986. That's not going to get us anything good," she said in sorrow.

Falling on the bed, Rob's mind was zinging with emotional distress. "Another week, we just need to stay here another week. If the Pub money holds out, we can move somewhere good."

Ellen tucked the bills back in her purse. "At least another week, if The Pub pays us enough. It's such a dump. And it's so erratic. I doubt we will do any better in a week than we are now. That means two, or even three weeks."

Hugging her, he calmed her emotions of dread. "Relax, I have a plan. We could make enough in a few days if it works out. I made three hundred the other day, and you make decent tips too. It's worth sticking with if you ask me. Besides, like I said, I have a plan."

Ellen turned around facing him. "Really? What is it?" she asked.

He looked in her eyes as he explained. "We focus down on a niche, something popular but hard to find. Something common, but cooked uncommonly well. Something super cheap to buy the ingredients for. I know exactly what I want. I just don't know what it is yet."

Ellen laughed. "I have a plan, I just don't know what it is? That's your plan? Great, I was hoping for something a little more concrete," she said closing her eyes with a sigh.

Rob leaped up. "I'm not kidding. I have the hard part already done. A dozen key ingredients that can transition into several entrees and apps. The basis is simple. Hone in on one specialty, take it back too it's roots. Put nothing but pure authenticity on the plate, nothing new, no twists."

Ellen watched as his voice became more enthusiastic. Rob nudged her. "Remember Can Tho? Every vendor sold single items, one dish they did better than anyone else. It was all ancient and authentic. The different vendors worked together in unison. Perfect harmony. They all enjoyed strong sales."

She looked puzzled. "You want to serve Vietnamese food at The Pub?"

Rob shrugged. "Well, not Vietnamese per say, but yeah. I want a singular cuisine, a short and sweet menu. The top sellers only. I want to go back in time, way back. Keep it simple. It's so hard to find truly authentic food these days. Ancient cuisine is cheap and healthy. Look at Maria. She lives on about two dollars a day and eats better than most anyone."

Rob stared at Ellen with bright eyes. "Do you know how much a bowl of read-deal Pho sells for in NY? Probably about twelve bucks. It costs about a dollar to make. But the catch is... not many know how. Not really. Not well enough to have the Vietnamese lined up at the door. I want real deal dishes like that. Not Vietnamese though, it's too foreign, too exotic for these corn fed beefeaters around here. I need something familiar to them, but better than they ever had. So many things have been beat to death, ribs, chicken, burgers, steaks, it's all just so overdone now that everyone wants to try and reinvent it. But the places that last fifty years are never about new twists and trends, they're all about the about tried and true. Dishes honored with authenticity and served with first class quality. Cooking like that is very rare nowadays."

Ellen knew he was onto something, but drew a blank. "I hope you figure it out because if you don't we are stuck here, living like Mexican immigrants."

Rob laughed. "They do alright. They make the most out of what little they have. Americans have a lot to learn from them."

Nodding, Ellen agreed. "I guess so. Where would we be without their help? Their family is so friendly. And that food at Miguel's mom's house... My god it was good. Even Maria loved it. She's all fired up about wanting to learn how to cook enchiladas now."

Ellen's words sent a spark down Rob's spine. Jumping to the bed, he hugged her hard, rocking her. "That's it! You did it!"

Ellen pulled away, looking at him in surprise. "Did what?"

Rob looked at her with huge smile. "Miguel's mom's food... It's Mexican!"

Looking puzzled, she cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah and... There are Mexican places on every corner," she said.

Rob jumped up again. "Those places serve gringo food Ellen. Have you ever seen a Mexican family eating out at Don Pablo's? No, and you never will. They know it sucks. We can serve real Mexican. Mamma's Mexican."

He looked at her dead still, a growing smile on his face. "If people think Chipotle is good, wait til' they try this. Think about it. Real Mexicans... We live and work with two of them, and they're both cooks. Miguel's mom knows the old world recipes and techniques. We have three experts in the real deal recipes." Rob ran out of the bedroom, leaving Ellen wondering what he was about to do next.

Running to living room, he put his shoes on. "Miguel! I have a plan that you will fucking love."

Miguel looked over curiously. "What's up amigo?"

Rob looked up smiling as he tied his shoes. "You, Army and I, we cook true Mexican, with your mamma's recipes, tonight at The Pub. Real Mexican, just like she cooks at home."

Miguel smiled. "Si, that's easy my friend. I grew up helping my momma cook. We can cook eet the best, you will see."

Rob stood up, slapping Miguel on the back. "No, you will see. When people realize what we have to offer, you will see the denaro my amigo."

"Hell yes!" Armando yelled as he shot up off the couch. "I can cook Mexican too! I made the mole with Mamma, and I cooked the chorizo too. I can do Mexican, I can learn from Mamma."

Rob pulled him into a hug. "I am certain you can my little pot head amigo. In fact, I am counting on it."

Miguel called his mother, explaining the plan, he asked for her help. She enthusiastically agreed. Rob gathered the money from his and Ellen's savings. Miguel confirmed to Rob Mamma would help, as he hung up the phone.

"She's good to go man. What now?"

Rob counted the bills in his fingers. "Now..." he said looking up, holding out the cash. "Now... We shop. We have plenty of meat at The Pub already, that's the pricey part. Lets get your mom, buy the rest of the ingredients and start cooking."
Chapter 13

Walking down the isles at Jungle Jim's. Rob pushed the cart as Momma gathered the makings for her beloved sopes, enchiladas, tacos and tamales. As they shopped, he couldn't believe how simple the dishes were and how many raw ingredients they shared. It was exactly the type of cuisine was looking for.

The massive exotic grocery was well stocked with isles of authentic Mexican ingredients. Momma Miguel passed by most all of the items, snatching only bags of spices, dried corn and beans, corn husks, hominy and dark smoked peppers from big wooden barrels. Making her way to the produce section, she held tomatoes to her nose, choosing only the best. She piled multi-colored peppers, garlic, tomatillos, cactus, pineapples and onions into the cart.

At the meat counter she ordered veal bones. The clerk weighed out the orders. Rob watched as the he stacked bones high in a box on the scale. Totaling up the order, he placed the boxes on the counter. Rob added it up, a mere thirty dollars in all.

"How many portions?" Rob asked Momma.

She smiled with a shrug. "Ciento... Tal fez mas..."

Miguel turned to Rob. "Mamma forgets to speak English sometimes. She says... like-a hundred, maybe more," he said shrugging. "She never counted them out before."

Moving along the seemingly endless isles, they found more authentic Mexican items in the immense store. Momma walked quickly, choosing the items she knew well. She grabbed up cheeses, Mexican creme and a few brightly colored bottled homeland sodas to enjoy later. Scrounging the cheapest bulk packages of paper-ware and to-go containers Rob pushed the loaded cart to the checkout.

The checkout clerk rang out the heaps of items. "$287.78" the cashier said as the last item was scanned. Rob forked over the cash. Counting the remaining bills, he realized he had less than seven hundred left for Ellen and his crew to live on. An apartment was out of the question now, at least for the time being. The cashier handed him his change. It was a scary bet, but the bet was already placed now. Rob felt confident the gamble would payoff as he scanned the simple ingredients in the cart.

At The Pub, Armando unpacked the bags as Miguel and Mamma laid out what they needed first. Rob found himself the assistant to the trio as he helped prepare the ingredients according to Mammas direction. After helping to make the rich shredded beef filling, Miguel cut open a sack of stone ground corn. Rob watched closely, taking mental notes as the tamale dough came together in a big bowl.

As Miguel mixed the cornmeal tamale dough, Mamma added the seasoning and tested the consistency. Shorty after, the crew worked side by side on the prep table, Mamma filled the husks with the cornmeal, Miguel added the filling then Rob wrapped it up tight, tying the tamales with a cotton string. Armando placed them carefully in the pans.

As the crew helped re-create Mammas family recipes in The Pub's kitchen, Ellen stepped off the bus out front. She decided to walk around the surrounding blocks in search of an apartment. She didn't like the idea of living in this area, but it was cheap and it did make sense due to the fact they worked at The Pub now and likely would be for some time.

By the light of the day, the area looked better than she remembered, or perhaps Ellen's optimism made it seem that way to her. Starting with the most nearby buildings, she passed by the old brick structures, keeping an eye out for a 'For Rent' sign.

Coming to a corner, she heard the sounds of rap music from a BMW parked on the curb. A group of teenage hoodlums stood around the car on the street. The neighborhood looked even more menacing as she passed broken glass storefronts and littered alleys.

Fearing to go deeper, Ellen turned back the way she came. Passing The Pub, she walked in the other direction. Several buildings had been razed and the lots were now home to nothing but new grass, budding clover and bright yellow dandelions dotted the empty green plots.

Walking further, Ellen caught the scent of fresh baked bread. Turning the corner, she saw a bakery with big bay display widows. Peering through the glass, her heart picked up it's pace as she looked at the sugary treats, donuts, torts, fat bagels and plump whole loafs of bread in the window beckoning her in. The urge to sink her teeth into one of the cheesecake tort pasties was too powerful to pass over. She bought the best looking one in the case. Turning back to the sidewalk, nibbling on the silky treat she resumed her search.

Immediately, Ellen found this side of the block much more appealing. She passed turn of century storefronts and colorful corner gardens. Stopping in front of a closed down bookstore, she peered inside the dusty glass. Through a gap in the newspaper covered windows she could see the shop was strew with fallen stacks of books, boxes and littered with black garbage bags.

Stepping back, she read the name on the old tin sign. "Old Crow's Books." Looking above the sign, she saw a red and white 'For Rent' sign stuffed behind a dirty window screen. Ellen climbed the steel stairs to the second story. Saving the number in her phone, she walked back to the street, dialing as she sat on the bookstore stoop.

"Hello?" an elderly man answered.

"Hi, I am calling about the apartment above the book store."

The man coughed. "Yeah. You want to go inside?"

Ellen asked him the price as she walked back up the stairs to look closer.

"Well, I haven't really decided," the old man asked.

"Well, I am on a budget and all..." Ellen replied sheepishly.

The man cut her off. "How's five hundred a month sound?"

Ellen felt elation as he said the price. "That sounds reasonable. I would like to see inside sir. Can you meet me here?"

The man laughed. "No need. The key is in the mailbox. You can go on in. Make sure you lock it when you leave. Call me back if you want it."

Ellen fished the key from the box at the bottom of the stairs and jogged up to the door excited. As the door creaked open, the stale smell of dust and must hit her in face. Pulling her shirt up over her nose, she stepped in slowly. Tip-toeing down the hall, she peered into the bedroom. Opening a squeaking door, she found the bathroom, an antique cast iron tub sat against the wall.

A second smaller bedroom seemed the cleanest of all the rooms. Walking in, she pulled up the window blind. A view of a grassy lot down below gave her a smile. Kids on bikes pedaled across the lawn as Ellen watched from her second story vantage. Walking back to the living room, she pulled opened the dusty curtains revealing massive floor to ceiling windows.

Framed in ornate Victorian woodwork, the big floor to ceiling windows flooded the room with bright light for the first time in years. Standing in the center of the windows, she looked out to the street below. It wasn't a New York skyline, but it was an inspiring view, especially for the price.

Checking out the kitchen, Ellen found cool-mint colored appliances from some long gone era. Running her fingers over the chrome trim around the curved top refrigerator she opened the door, finding the inside perfectly clean. The stove was from the same era. Thick chrome adorned the control panel. Fancy fluted knobs stuck out like giant sized costume jewelry. In a polished cursive script, the logo "Western Holly" was written above the ivory-faced clock. Down below, double oven doors featured oval windows. Ellen opened the oven doors, just like the fridge, they were both in perfectly clean condition.

The entire space was lost in time, silently fixed in an era long gone before Ellen was even born. As she looked closer at the details, she became more in love with the majestic charm and calming ambiance of the place.

Closing the blinds back, Ellen dialed the owner's number again.

"Hello?" he answered.

"I called about the apartment, above the book store," she said with intentional reserve. "How much would it cost to move in?"

The old man paused. "Well, you have the rent, and the deposit. So it would be $1000."

Ellen knew she didn't have that. "Okay, I am very interested in renting here. I will talk about it with my boyfriend and call you back."

The old man questioned her about her timeline. "How long will that take? I would like to have that rented by the first of the month. Can you move in this week?"

Excited about the find, Ellen suddenly felt worried she would lose the perfect apartment to another renter if she waited.

"Well, that depends... How long will it take you to get it cleaned out and ready?" she asked.

The old man argued back. "Cleaned up! I cleaned that place myself not long ago."

Ellen blew dust off a doorsill, filling the room with a hazy cloud. "Well, its way to dusty to live in as it is. I would have to spend at least three days cleaning before I could even sleep here," Ellen countered with a friendly laugh.

The old man murmured. "Well, I could cut the deposit in half then I guess... So, $750 to move in and you clean it the way you like."

Ellen was elated. "I will take it then. I can meet you... Next Monday with the rent and deposit."

"Next Monday!" The old man yelled. "I go to the doctor on Mondays, goddamn dialysis. I just got home and I'm already in bed."

Ellen sympathized immediately. "I understand, my dad went to those treatments three days a week, he died during a session just this past spring."

The old man softened up after her explanation. "I don't want to hold the unit for a week. I will meet you Wednesday, how about that?"

Smiling, she agreed. After chatting with the old man about her dad, and the torture of living life on dialysis she made the agreement.

"You sound like a nice girl," he said. "You can use the key to come in and clean up if you like. Nothing moved in mind you, but you may as well get started cleaning until we meet."

Ellen thanked him graciously and offered him her phone number. "Write my number down please. If you have any need, you can call me. Otherwise, I will see you on Wednesday." She thanked him again and hung up.

After taking down the For Rent sign, walking around the apartment, Ellen embraced the new home with a child's Christmas glee.

"This is going to be great!" she said as she ran to the bedroom.

Pulling the sheets off the windows, ducking from the dust, she stepped back into the hall. Looking in at the room, her shirt over her nose, she pictured the bed.

"It should be facing the window... with a dresser over here..." She walked from room to room, imagining how it would look and feel appointed as she pictured.

"This will be Maria's room... We can put a sofa here... This dining room is perfect for a table by the windows..." After checking the faucets and appliances, she left, locking the door behind her.

Walking just a few minutes back to The Pub, she realized Rob was right about the convenience of living by their work. This apartment would be a godsend. It was perfect for their needs. She was excited to tell Rob about it. Stepping through the front door, she was determined to show it to him when he had a break.

Halfway into the dining room, the familiar aroma of Momma's Mexican food filled the air. In the kitchen, Ellen found Rob grinding beef into a giant mixing bowl. Miguel was lining a pan with enchiladas. Momma was rolling out fresh tortilla shells with a wooden rolling pin. Tossing the thin tortillas onto a hot griddle, then stacking the bubbling shells onto a white towel.

Stirring a tall stockpot full of smoky deep red sauce, Armando offered Ellen a taste. Holding out a wooden spoon with a thick coating of the sauce, he motioned for her to take it. Tasting it, her eyes went wide.

"Wow. That's awesome," she said smiling.

Armando smiled back as he watched her eyes light up.

"It's good huh?" Armando asked with great enthusiasm. "I made it by myself! Didn't I Momma?"

Momma smiled and nodded as she flipped the sizzling shells.

Ellen patted him on the shoulder. "Great job, that sauce is amazing Army."

The entire kitchen had a relaxed family vibe that put Ellen at ease.

Rob waved Ellen over to the prep table. "Look at how many pans of enchiladas we've made so far." He pointed to a stack of stuffed pans in the cooler. "We have a hundred of those. Plus a hundred tamales, and we still have lots of ingredients left. I spent almost three hundred at the market and I am pretty sure it will last the week even with strong sales."

Ellen looked forlorn. Rob didn't understand her scowl. "It's a good deal! We can get ten bucks for two enchiladas with rice and beans easy. That's a thousand dollars in those pans right there alone. Plus another ten bucks for a two-tamale meal, there is another five hundred bucks in those too. We will more than triple our money on just the food we made today, plus we still haven't made a dent in the stocks."

Tears welled in Ellen's eyes. Rob didn't know what to make of it.

"This is a great thing we have going here. Something I can really count on to get us back up and running. Why are you so sad?" he asked.

As she began to sob, he stopped working and hugged her.

"I found an apartment. It's so great and it's just around the corner, it's only $500 and the owner said if I cleaned it we could move in for just $750. But we need the money by Wednesday. Now, with all this food expense, we won't have enough to spare for it. I wanted to move so badly... This place, it's so great. I wanted you to see it. But now..."

Rob couldn't ignore the look of sadness on her face. Wiping his hands on towel, he tossed it aside. "Let's go see it. They have everything in good shape here. We have time before the dinner crowd comes in."

Ellen looked relived as they walked out the back door. Walking to the bookstore, she took the key from the mailbox. Jogging the stairs, she opened the apartment door quickly. Rushing in, she pulled Rob from room to room, pointing out the well appointed features from the past. He watched as she explained with excitement the places the bed would go, the sofa and so on.

Walking back in the living room she stopped by the big windows, facing the view of the city. Ellen looked at Rob with pleading eyes. "I love it so much and I hate living like I'm in a frat house. And Maria, she's getting used to that lifestyle already. We really need this place. I mean, it won't be long before..." She rubbed her belly with both hands.

He could see by her enthusiasm and excitement it would be a huge let down to disappoint her. Rob knew he had to act fast or they could lose such a great deal. "How much to move in?" he asked.

"Seven fifty..." Ellen replied. "It's only five hundred a month. We would never find a better deal."

Rob looked around. He agreed it was a spacious well-built unit. Walking to the kitchen, he couldn't believe the antique appliances.

"Look at this! It's from the fifties, maybe even the forties. That stove is awesome. And double ovens... that's nice."

Ellen ran over to the mint green range, opening the oven doors. "Everything still works. And it's clean inside too."

Rob knew this was not a proposal. Ellen desperately wanted this place, and after looking it over, he could see why. It was a great space, especially for the price.

"Okay, let's make it happen," he replied. "We have to pay half of Miguel's rent. So we will have to save every dollar to get that much money by Wednesday. I hope we have good sales, we could pull it off if this food sells."

As they walked back, Rob could feel Ellen's happiness surrounding her. Now, he was the one turning sad as he thought about the possibility that they may not make enough to get the apartment in time.

"It's Monday, so we should have lots of service employees tonight," Rob said as they walked in.

"They never spend much on food though," Ellen replied. "Then again with the lower prices, they may buy regular orders for a change. We just have to have faith."

"I may not have faith, but I do have hundreds of stellar tamales, and enchiladas," Rob said with a laugh.

Ellen set about organizing the tables as Rob worked in the kitchen. It wasn't long before the usual crowd came bustling in. They fed cash into the jukebox, springing it to life, issuing out a Police tune across the Pub. Around six, Ellen began taking orders. The diners praised the food as she re-filled their drinks and checked on the tables.

"This is the best Mexican I've ever had," was a common compliment.

At the kitchen window, Rob watched the dining room, hoping to see more orders come in.

"They all love it. Everyone keeps complimenting the food," Ellen said as she walked up.

Rob shrugged. "That's great, but if we can't sell at least half this we won't walk home with much."

As the night went on, the kitchen sold around thirty dinner specials and a dozen tamale orders. Ellen was beginning to get just as worried as Rob by nine o'clock.

"How much have we done so far?" Miguel asked as he plated a tamale order.

"Maybe four hundred bucks, gross," Rob replied, frustrated.

"Four hundred and eight," Ellen said as she pointed to the plate and dashed away.

By ten thirty, Ellen was getting tired. Rob told her she should go on home. "It's pretty quiet around here. Maria and the crew can handle this. I will get things squared away back here for tomorrow then come home shortly."

Ellen left for home as Rob cleaned the kitchen. At the end of the night, he took the payout from Martinez. Dividing it up, the take was sad.

"Seventy five bucks a piece guys." Rob looked depressed as he passed out the cash.

Miguel tucked the money in his pocket. "Eets not bad. It was really slow."

Armando agreed. "Yeah, it was slow. This is good for a slow night huh?"

Rob appreciated his enthusiasm. "I guess in reality it is. I just had higher hopes. This food is really great."

Miguel patted Rob on the back. "Eet will sell good when people realize. You will see."

Rob patted him back. "I'm heading home. See you guys back at the apartment."

Rob walked home to save the cab fare. His long walk seemed short as his mind raced with mixed emotions over the poor sales and the ticking clock counting down to Wednesday.
Chapter 14

Ellen was at the table when Rob walked in. Laying the cash beside her, he shouted out the amount. "Seventy five damn dollars!" he said tossing the bills beside her.

She organized it with the rest of the money. "With my fifty five in tips... After Miguel's rent... that puts us at $385. We just need $365 more in the next two days."

Rob took a beer from the fridge. Flicking the lid into the trash, he took a long swallow. "You say that as if we still work on The Ship. You alone could make that in a night there. Now... now, we will be lucky to make a hundred a night between the both of us," he said, slumping onto the old green couch.

A travel show played on the muted TV screen.

"Anthony Bourdain," Rob said pointing the remote. "Look at that guy. He was a drug addict struggling cook, now he's a rich TV celebrity. All because he wrote a book about the places he worked at. He's not worried about cooking anymore, or about his restaurant sales. His place is just a big tax write off for him now. He's set for life. He has this show, another show, and who knows how many more shows to come. Not to mention another restaurant he will never cook in. All because of a book about bouncing from one job to next, just like the rest of us cooks do."

Ellen could feel Rob disintegrating into an angry funk. "Well, why don't you write a book then?"

Rob laughed. "Anthony's book is about New York kitchens and the grease behind the glamour. He talks a lot about drugs and the crazy people he worked with at big name restaurants. People like to hear about that. What would my book be about? Burgers and bar fights? How to make the perfect tamale? This is Newport. No one wants to read about this place."

Ellen shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't have to be like his. It can be anything you want."

Rob pondered the idea as he sipped the beer, watching the show. "Maybe I should. Writing doesn't cost any money. I can do it in my spare time. I used to write in school. I really liked my free style writing assignments. I always made great grades on those too."

She could tell her encouragement was working. "You should get started. Here, use this old laptop. I know it works, but I never see anyone using it. Ellen dusted off the computer. Turning it on, she waited as the again it cycled slowly through it's paces, finally coming to life.

She opened the Word program and handed it over to Rob. Setting his beer down, he placed the computer on his lap. Staring at the screen, he went back to drinking again.

"I don't even know where to start," he called out with frustration.

"Of course you don't," she said. "No one does. Start by writing an outline. I went to school under an English major, to be a teacher. I had a lot of writing classes. Try this. Don't fixate on developing specific characters or plot lines at first. Start writing any thoughts and ideas in a list. Then, go back and find the connections. String it together in sequence to create the outline. Then develop a direction before you ever start the real writing. Once the outline is complete, review it and edit it until you have the story line. That way you will have something to follow as you fill in the details."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "That makes sense." Placing his fingers on the black keys he began to type short incomplete sentences. Settling back on the couch cushions, he typed for hours, stopping only to retrieve another drink from the fridge from time to time.

Clicking off the computer, he headed to bed just before midnight. Ellen was too tired to stir as she felt him slide under the covers beside her. Around nine in the morning, they were awakened to the sound of music and people talking loudly.

Peaking out of the room Ellen saw a dozen people or so in the living room, mostly Mexicans. Dressing quickly, Ellen and Rob walked into the festive room.

"Did I miss a party invitation?" Rob asked Miguel.

Miguel was holding up a glass of beer in one hand with a shot of tequila in the other. "Chef Rob! Amigo! Come drink with us."

Rob wondered what the occasion could be that had everyone drinking so early and Miguel nearly drunk. Miguel pulled his sister Maya over to his side. Hugging the smiling girl, he looked at Rob.

"My baby sister is getting married! This is our little engagement party for her. She will have her real one at Mamma's but we can't smoke there you know..."

Rob congratulated her. "Awesome! Congratulations! When is the wedding?"

Miguel hugged Maria tightly, nearly spilling his beer on her dress.

"We're not sure yet, but it will be at Momma's house, you will be there right?"

Rob shook his head. "Of course! I would love to be there."

Miguel let the squirming girl go. Leaning over to Rob, he whispered with drunk breath. "She just found out she is gonna' be a mamma. Shh!" he said looking around with his finger to his lips. "I am not supposed to say anything..."

Rob understood as he watched the young girl return to her seat beside Jose. Making a coffee, he tied his shoes. "I'm going to work. Since I have only the one job now, I might as well as see if we should start serving lunch."

Miguel scowled. "We never served lunch at The Pub before. Besides we have a party here. You should hang out."

Rob politely declined. "I would like to stay. But I want to make the most of this Pub gig. I've been thinking... True, we don't serve lunch but maybe we should. You stay and have fun. I can do this alone. It may be totally dead anyway."

Miguel smiled. "I will see you later. We will sell many dinners tonight! My sister has been posting about our great food on her Facebook. She has many friends, many Mexican people. They will come. You will see."

It all sounded like good news to Rob. "We need the seal of approval from the local Mexican's. When other races see Mexicans buying our food, they will know it's the real deal."

Maria and Rob headed off to The Pub. Maria came along to serve while Ellen rested until dinner service. The Pub was already busy by the time they walked in. Rob put out the blackboard sign on the sidewalk as Maria organized the tables. Within minutes several orders were sent to the bar. As noon rolled around, a few more customers came in to eat. In two hours, Rob had put out about a hundred dollars in sales.

During the lull between lunch and dinner, Rob prepared small quartered sample portions of the enchiladas and tamales.

"Maria, I am going to take these samples to the businesses nearby. If anyone comes in to order food, call me on my cell."

Maria nodded as Rob walked out the back door with his armload of samples. He stopped at all the busiest stores, explaining his new menu at The Pub and the outstanding quality. The container was emptied in less than a half hour. He had great reactions from the people and wanted to pass out more. Returning to The Pub, he took a chair out to the sidewalk setting it beside the blackboard. Taking a pan of fresh tamales out of the oven, he sliced them up into fours, sticking each petite morsel with toothpick.

"Maria, come sit out on the sidewalk please. Just sit on the chair and pass these out. One per person, don't let anyone hog it all."

Taking the container, Maria smiled with a nod as she took the samples to the sidewalk. Returning to the kitchen, Rob heard a familiar voice bellow from the dining room a few moments later.

"Anderson! Are you back there?"

Rob looked out to see Harvey, standing by the bar with a toothpick between his lips. Walking over, he greeted him.

"You like the tamales?" Rob asked.

"Sidewalk samples? Really?" Harvey replied. "This is 2015, not 1915."

Rob shrugged at his remark. "I have to let people know about this food. It's awesome, our recipe is pure old world..."

Harvey cut him off. "Stop with the commercial. I just ate some. I fucking know how good it is, you don't have to sell me on it. I'm just saying, Use your head not your free food."

Always willing to listen to Harvey's advice, Rob took a seat. "So what do I do then?" he asked.

Taking a drink of his foamy draft, Harvey leaned over closer. "You get a fucking Facebook for one thing. You plaster it with "Authentic Mexican Food This" and "Finest Quality That'. Plus pictures of everything."

Looking at Rob as a lawyer looks at nervous client before walking into court, lowering his voice, Harvey continued. "You get on urbanspoon, zomato or whatever, and yelp too. Start posting as if you a real customer. Rant and rave about how great it was, throw in a small complaint or two about wait times to make it look real."

Rob frowned. "We sales today. What good is facebook going to do us right now?"

Harvey waved his hand. "Slow down, I'm not finished. You post reviews on there right? Then the bloggers and so-called foodies come crawling out of the woodwork. These days everyone thinks they are a pro food-reviewer. Anyone who can put together a shitty blog will want to get in here and post their worthless opinion before the real food rags pick up on it. Then the rags around town will catch on. They read all the stupid foodie bloggers and shit, RSS feeds and whatnot. When the paid reviewers put out their hired bullshit, the crowds will follow. That's how it works today, I'm telling ya."

Rob considered the advice as Harvey took another drink.

"Look at Eli's BBQ," Harvey said swallowing. "They didn't sell shit for over a year after they opened. They almost went under. Then, they got on the radar of the wanna-be reviewer bloggers. The food rags picked it up from there... Now, you can't get a table at the joint, ever. People are eating outside in the rain, under fucking tents and tarps for Christ's sake. It's madness."

He knew Harvey's words were not only true but the advice was worth adhering to.

"I can't stand that liar site but Miguel's sister loves Facebook," Rob replied. "I can ask her to put one together. And those others as well."

Harvey nodded. "Good, you need a young person to keep up on all that shit. Message this and tweet that, all that bullshit. It's a drag to me. I pay someone to do it of for us. It's all stupid hype, but to this generation it's a big fucking deal. Web presence and famous patrons, that's about all you need with food like yours."

Rob stopped him there. "We can talk over something to eat. Let me get you a plate, you're gonna' love it." Shorty, Rob brought out an enchilada special with an order of tamales. Harvey made a sour face as Rob sat it down.

"Fuck that! If I eat all that I will never get drunk," Harvey said, staring the big platter of food.

Rob laughed then took off half for himself. "Here, we will split it."

Harvey shrugged, pulling the plate over. "Great! Now I feel like I'm on a date with Rob Anderson... At a Mexican joint... In a bar. You gotta' love this place. I wonder what will happen here next?" Harvey joked as he forked into the food, chewing slowly with purpose.

After the first few forkfuls, Harvey dropped his fork and stared. "Sonofabitch. I was thinking you had gone off your rocker sticking with just Mexican, but this... This is real old fashioned grandma Mexican right here."

Rob laughed. "That's exactly what it is. I even had a real Mexican grandma in the kitchen yesterday teaching me how to make it."

Picking up his beer, Harvey shook his head with a laugh. "I bet you did too! Somehow I just bet that's actually true."

Nudging Harvey in the ribs. Rob left for the kitchen. Turning to leave, he paused. Leaning close to Harvey, he took a more serious tone.

"It is true. Her son works here, Miguel. Together, with their help, we are offering the first truly authentic Mexican fare in the city. And hopefully maybe make a few bucks in the process. You can't beat old world traditional cooking with trendy flash in the pan fusion. I hate that crap. I wish I knew how to cook all the world cuisines I love the true traditional ways. It's all I care about anymore. It's damn hard to find though. There isn't any Mexican in town this traditional."

Harvey nodded. "This is good shit. I have eaten out at top places a dozen times on vacation in Cabo. This is better."

Thanking him, Rob went back to the kitchen. Maria came back with the empty sample tray. "You want should I pass out more?" she asked.

"No, just hang out and hope we get some orders." Rob replied.

Maria walked back to the dining room and went about cleaning the tabletops.
Chapter 15

The lull turned around at dinnertime. Rob was serving food out the window to Maria steadily by the time Miguel and Army arrived. Still reeling from their party earlier, they took their places and kept the pace even in their half drunken state.

Rob wasn't concerned; he had worked with them many nights in the past on The Ship when they were in this same condition, or worse. He knew they would stay strong, even though they took trips to bathroom a little more often than usual.

Ellen arrived at six. The Pub was beginning to get crowded. Nearly all the tables were ordering food and the tamales were popular at the bar.

"This is more like it," Rob said to Ellen as she came to the window for her orders.

Ellen smiled back. "We are getting really busy. Soon we are going to run out of tables. Maria has only three more left."

Rob was moving too quickly to count the earnings but he knew it would be a good night. By ten thirty, most of the food in the pans had sold out.

"Six more tamales then that's eet," Miguel said to the crew.

Rob was elated to see so much food sell. He didn't care if he sold the last six, at this point he was well on his way to earning enough money for the apartment. With one more day to add to the pot, he felt positive they would have the money they needed by Wednesday.

Walking back with a loaded bus pan, a pain shot through Ellen's abdomen. Dropping the pan, the nearby patrons looked over quickly at the sound of the shattering glass. Rob and Maria shot a glance to the sound, seeing Ellen slip into a nearby chair they rushed to her side.

"It's okay," she said as Rob kneeled beside her. "It seems like heavy stuff does this to me. I have to take less I guess."

Maria took the bus pan away. Rob demanded she stop carrying the bus pans from now on.

"It's not worth it Ellen, you could be hurt, or hurt the baby, or even worse. Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded. "Maybe I should just go home. I can just make the last bus if I leave now."

Rob helped her up as she laughed at him. "I'm okay really. I just need to lay down."

Rob and Maria walked with her to the sidewalk.

"You go home, rest easy. I will take of the tables," Maria said, assuring her everything would be fine. They two watched and waved as Ellen stepped onto the kneeling bus beside the sidewalk.

After Ellen left, Rob was too nervous thinking about Ellen's condition to leave her alone until after midnight. He decided to close out the kitchen and head home to her.

"Lets leave the tamales warming for the late night customers and shut the rest of this shit down. Clean it all up, everything. I gotta' get home to see that Ellen is okay," he called out to Miguel.

The kitchen crew was working on the tasks as the Pub crowd thickened with drinkers. Passing the bar as he was leaving, Rob saw Martinez arguing with a loud customer. Stopping to see if things called down, he noticed group of tattooed men in dirty landscaping uniforms were gathering in front of Martinez as the argument went on.

"I am telling you motherfucker! I paid for those drinks already, this is for the drink you didn't give me yet," The drunken landscaper yelled at Martinez, pointing to a twenty-dollar bill on the bar.

"You did not. I have a tab here with twelve drinks on it. Your guys ordered them." Martinez replied.

The mud covered man stared menacingly at Martinez. "Then that's their bill," the man said motioning to his crew. "I am giving you twenty dollars for my damn drink. You give me my drink and my fucking change."

Martinez quickly took the twenty. "You owe me sixteen more and we are even," he said with a stern look. The muddy man slammed his hand down on the bar hard.

"Fuck you, you bastard! Give me my money back then!"

Martinez slid the register shut with the man's twenty locked inside. Turning to the angry customer, he explained to the man again.

"I'm sober. You're not. I am telling you, you still owe sixteen dollars for your tab. You get nothing else until you pay. That goes for all of you."

The landscaping crew let out yells and grumbles as Martinez cut them off and walked away to the other end of the bar.

Rob stepped towards the door thinking the drama was over. Suddenly, he heard a crash of breaking glass behind him. Turning, he saw the loud boss man had tossed a chair into the stock of liquor behind the bar. Martinez leaped over the bar top, grabbing him with both arms around his neck, falling with him to the ground. Bar stools bounced over in their wake. The stunned crowd moved away as the two tumbled to the floor.

The other four landscapers looked at one another, gathering nearer as their lead man and the bartender wrestled. Dropping his jacket, Rob ran over, pushing them aside to help Martinez. One of the men grabbed Rob by the shoulder, spinning him around on his heels in mid-stride.

"You can't just fuckin' jump in! That's not a fair fight!"

Shoving him back, Rob pointed his finger at the man's face. "There's no fighting allowed at all in here! Fair or otherwise! Get out now, or we're calling the cops!"

The mention of the police caused the men to briefly pause. Rushing, Rob reached to help Martinez. Before Rob could pull him to safety, the muddy crew's boss sprang up off the floor. Grabbing a nearby beer mug, he swung it hard into Martinez's head, cutting him badly.

Tackling Rob, the other landscapers began kicking him in the ribs with their work boots. No one noticed Maria as she came running from the kitchen, swiping up a wooden cue as she dashed past the pool table.

With two fast blows, she whipped the stick into the back of the heads of two of the men kicking Rob. The blow knocked them out cold, taking them to the floor instantly. The last two men turned to see who had blasted their friends from behind. Putting up their fists like boxers, they stood ready to attack, taunting her all the while.

Taking a steady stance, Maria studied their movements, watching their eyes, waiting for either to make the slightest move. Glancing down, she saw Rob writhing on the floor in pain. Jumping between the men and Rob, she yelled in their faces.

"You stop now! Leave here or I will have to force you."

The two men stopped still, staring at her with sly grins.

"Or you will what?" one man asked angrily.

Maria stood her ground silently. The crazed landscapers took positions on both sides of her. Laughing from one to the other, they mocked her.

Maria stood undeterred. "You go now! You never come back anymore!" she demanded.

The entire Pub crowd watched breathlessly. Frozen in dead silent fear for Maria as the tension built up in the men's angry stares.

"Fuck her! Let's beat her ass!" one man said as he leaped forward towards Maria.

In a flash, she quickly slid out of reach just as his fist was about to connect with her face. Spinning behind him, she shot out a kick, hard into his knee. Sending him face first with a crash into the tables.

The other man looked on with wide eyes then leaped towards Maria with a yell. Jumping back away from his grasp, she leaped up onto the bar top. The attacker reached out for her ankle. His courage was rewarded with a swift kick hard in the nose. Bleeding badly, he fell backward, blood running between his fingers, as his hands shot to cover his face.

Angrily, the boss man tried to grab Maria by the legs. Spinning her pool stick up from her side, she jabbed it straight into his throat. Coughing and chocking, he quickly sunk beside his fallen comrade.

Standing on the slippery wet bar top, Maria kicked but missed the last man now reaching for her. Loosing her footing, she fell hard, crashing down the bar stools as she tumbled to the floor.

Seeing Maria fall, Rob scrambled to help her but was quickly stopped in his tracks as the last man shoved him back to his feet. Picking up a glass mug from a nearby table, he held it high, towering over Rob, daring him to get back up. Rob watched in tense fear as the man taunted him to make a move.

The choking boss man sprang up, rolling on top of Maria. Grabbing her wrists, he pinned her to the floor, wrestling her body under the weight of his own. Her eyes went wide as she watched the bloody nosed man stumble to his feet. Picking up the pool cue from the floor, he moved towards her.

"You want to hit people with sticks you little bitch! Let's see how you like it!" he yelled, raising the cue behind his back to swing down onto her.

Shielding herself with her attacker, she turned on her side, covering her face. Just before he began to swing, Miguel grabbed him up with lunge, crashing him to the floor headfirst.

Armando came running close behind with a razor sharp chef knife. Miguel clenched his arms around Maria's would be assailant's neck tightly, choking him in an instant with a sleeper hold.

Miguel was still locked onto the man as his eyes closed from the lack of blood to his drunken brain. The boss man rushed Armando, knocking the knife from his hand. Army yelled out loud as the man punched him in the jaw. As Armando doubled over in pain, the man began kicking him in the side and stomach. Army sank down between chairs coughing, covering his face in fear.

Rob rose to help but was struck by the man with the mug. His eyes blurring, his head spun as he lost his balance and fell back to the floor. Struggling to get up, he saw the man run towards Maria. Reaching out as he passed, Rob grabbed his boot, tripping him instantly. Trying to free himself from Rob's grasp, the two wrestled on the floor.

Freed from her assailant's grip, Maria sprang to her feet, grabbing the chef knife off the floor as she jumped up. The boss man was still kicking poor Armando. Maria warned him loudly.

"Stop! Stop hurting him now!"

Turning, he stepped towards Maria in a fast stride, until he saw the knife in her hands. Stopping, he stood with eyes locked onto hers. Watching him, she weighed the knife, balancing its weight as she stared into his eyes from across the room. He stayed motionless, frozen as he watched her bob the knife in her hand.

A hush fell over the Pub crowd. They watched without a sound as Maria sized up her weapon. As if the man knew what was coming next, he drew his arm back to throw the mug at Maria. Maria brought the knife behind her ear. The crowd held their breath as her arm shot out. The knife hurled towards him, tumbling through the air. Striking its target, it pierced his palm, cutting completely through the flesh. The handle stuck out of his bleeding hand. His eyes looked down at the knife lodged in his severed hand in horror. The breathless crowd let out a loud gasp in unison.

As Rob struggled to hold on to the tripped man's boot, desperate to get free, the landscaper began kicking him in the head. Rob tucked under the table, his hands over his face protecting himself from the boot's blows. With a quick jump, Maria landed with her foot on the man's shin, snapping his leg with a splitting crack. The crowd's hands shot over their mouths at the sound of it, others turned away from the sickening sight. As the man writhed on the floor, Maria whacked him several times fast in the head with the cue, knocking him out instantly. The crowd recoiled as her quick blows sent him into unconsciousness.

The bloody boss man scrambled to his feet. Racing towards her, he stood with his one good fist out, shaking in a mix of fear and rage. Maria spun on her heels, swinging her pool cue. Without hesitation, she slammed the stick into his outstretched fist. The crowd winced as the loud crack of breaking bones rang out. Crying out loudly, he staggered to a tabletop.

Maria whipped the stick back under her arm. With an audible 'Umph' she kicked him hard in the groin, nearly lifting him off the floor. His eyes wide from pain, his bloody fingers slipped off the tabletop as he slowly slid down to the floor in agony. With a fast swoop, she whipped the stick against his jaw, dislodging it to one side. The Pub crowd recoiled at the terrible sight of his distorted face.

Maria raised her arm for second shot to his head. Trying to stop her from issuing a potential deadly blow, Miguel grabbed Maria from behind. Taken by surprise with his grasp, without looking, she dropped her stick as she reached around blindly, grabbing Miguel by the back of his neck. Quickly leaning her body forward, ducking her head to her knees, he yelled out as she flung him over her shoulders. With a smooth swift movement, she flung Miguel over her back to the floor. Landing with a loud thump, he squinted as she raised her foot to stomp his face.

"Wait Maria! Eets me!" Miguel yelled in panic as he instinctively covered his eyes in fear of her impending blow.

Maria stopped her kick short of hurting him. Reaching out her hand, she helped him up. The two dashed to Rob's side as he tried to pin the last man to the floor. Maria stepped quick, shooting the landscaper a hard kick in the head. Miguel choked him out as he struggled to rise. Collapsing on a chair, Rob sat down to catch his breath. The room quickly fell silent.

Seeing the violence come to an end, Martinez dashed to the bathroom, desperate to stop the blood rushing from his scalp. Armando was still on the floor coughing, writhing in pain. Miguel ran to his aid. Glancing around the room, he looked at the landscaping crew on the floor. Only one of the five was still moving, the boss man. He was moaning and writhing as blood ran from nose and hands, soaking his shirt down to his pants. All of the others lay motionless, knocked out or pooling blood on the hardwood floor from one injury or another.

Hearing Rob threaten to call the cops, one of the patrons had called 911. Miguel heard the sirens from down the block as police cars came screaming to The Pub's address. Rob scrambled back on his feet, running to Maria.

"We have to get Maria out of here fast!"

Miguel nodded in nervous haste, quickly ushering her to back door.

"Armando!" Rob yelled, helping Armando up. "Are you okay?" he asked, still limping in pain and shaking with frazzled nerves.

Armando rubbed his side. "I think so. I dunno' maybe not."

Rob rushed him to the back door as well. "Take Maria, go home and don't walk on the main streets. Watch for cops! Don't you dare get caught either Armando!"

Maria helped Army as they jogged off down the alley. Rob turned to the wide-eyed crowd. "Not one of you had better mention Maria was ever here! If anyone does... So help me god I swear if a word is spoken of this..."

They all nodded in a silent reply. Rob watched as most shuffled out the back door, to avoid talking to the cops at all.

No sooner had the crowd left out the back, the police came in from the front. Three more cop cars skidded to stop in front of The Pub. Rob limped to the front door as they came in.

"We got a 911 call from here," the officer said, looking at the bodies scattered around the room.

Rob pointed to the men on the floor. "These landscaping guys, they started threatening the bartender. One of them hit him with a mug and cut his head pretty bad. He is in the bathroom now."

One officer walked back to bathroom as another looked closer the men on the floor.

"Who beat these guys up? You?" he asked, looking at Rob.

"Well, I... I grabbed that guy when he hit Martinez, then these guys jumped me to the floor and started kicking me. So I picked up a pool stick and fought them off."

The cop looked at the wounds, pointing his flashlight at the bodies in pools of blood.

"You say this guy here hit the bartender? So who hit these other guys? And with what?"

Miguel looked at Rob with worried eyes.

Rob replied nervously "Well I'm not sure, it all happened so fast..."

The cop walked over to Miguel. "What about you? What did you do while this all going on?"

Miguel pointed to the sleeping man. "I choked that guy out, and that one too. He was hurting Martinez you know, kicking him after he was already down. He was trying to kill him I think."

The cop stood up tall. "So... You choked out these two. And you wrestled this one... So who broke that guys jaw? And who stabbed his hand?"

Rob and Miguel stood silent. "It all happened so fast you know. I don't really know," Rob replied, breaking the nervous silence.

The cop picked up the handset off his chest. "Dispatch. This is twenty-four. I'm three seven at the 911. We need a couple of EMT units down here for hospital transport. Better make that five."

Rob stood beside the cop, watching as the EMTs loaded the passed out bloody bodies into the ambulances.

The lead cop took statements from Martinez, Rob and Miguel as he filled out his report. "I am not sure what really went on here, but for now, I have to take you two down to the station."

Rob shot him a scowl. "What for? We didn't even start the fight. You heard Martinez, they tried to kill him!"

The cop nodded. "I am already citing charges on them. But you two... Your stories just don't jive. One of you, or both, broke these guys up pretty bad. Someone stabbed that guy with a kitchen knife. This whole scene just doesn't look to me like it was done by you two. Or you aren't telling me all of the truth. We will figure it all out at the station."

The cop motioned his men in and they cuffed Rob and Miguel. The police asked the few remaining patrons about the fight. Rob watched in worry as the cop questioned them, hoping no one would tell him about Maria. The Pub crowd was loyal to the staff. Not a single customer mentioned Maria.

As Rob and Miguel were waiting in the flashing police cars, Katie came running up to the window.

"Oh my god Rob! What the hell happened?"

Rob explained about the fight, leaving out Maria's role. Katie looked fearful.

"I will call my lawyer. He can help you. Just sit tight and be quiet. It's probably best if you don't say anything until you talk to him. Just stay quiet and wait for him. His name is Karl Kilguss. I am calling him now."

Thumbing her phone, she glanced over with tearing eyes at the sight of Rob and Miguel in the police car. Rob rested his head on the window. What started off as a great night, just turned into nightmare in less than six terrible minutes.
Chapter 16

Sitting in a yellow block holding cell with Miguel, Rob felt a nervous depression overtake him.

The guard pointed at Miguel. "You! Over here."

The locked buzzed. The guard opened the door. Taking Miguel by the arm, he led him to the processing office.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Miguel leaned on the counter as he replied. "Miguel Hernandez."

"Do you have an immigration visa, or an ID?"

Miguel shook his head. Sliding open a drawer, the cop retrieved a form.

"What is that?" Miguel asked as watched him filling it out.

"It's an INS form... Immigration."

Miguel felt sick in his stomach. "Are you sending me back to Mexico?" he asked.

The cop didn't look up as he answered. "Thanks to your buddy Obama, we can't. This new form gives you the right to stay here and work, until you have a hearing. Or go to jail, whatever the case may be."

Miguel felt slightly relived. "They can send me away after the hearing?"

The cop feigned a smile. "I doubt it. They will probably grant you a temporary visa, if you can prove your working and living legally."

Miguel couldn't believe it. "Really? They make me legal?"

The cop turned the form around for Miguel to read. "Sign here if this information is correct."

Miguel signed and was sent back to the holding room. Rob was worried about Miguel's fate, but on his return Miguel was smiling.

"Amigo! They said maybe I get a legal visa! Some Obama law or something."

Rob was relived to hear he wasn't being deported. They waited for hours on the cold stainless steel seats until the lawyer arrived.

Sitting at a glass window, they talked by wall phones to the attorney. Karl listened then explained the situation.

"They haven't charged you with anything yet. But they are not releasing you either, which tells me they plan to file charges."

Rob looked angry. "We didn't do anything wrong! We just protected our staff. Should we just watch as they kill our bartender?"

Karl waved his hand. "Let's worry about that later. Right now, we need to work on bail. If we have that in place, if and when they do file the charges, I can get you out immediately."

Rob felt distraught. "How much is it?"

Karl looked through his papers. "I can't say for sure. But you have a good record, he's clean too," he said pointing to Miguel. "They will probably file with a battery charge, maybe felony battery. I would say a hundred thousand."

Rob's mouth dropped. "What! I can't pay that. Not even close."

Karl sighed. "Well, with no priors I can say you could secure a ten percent bond from Charlie Miller, the bail bondsman."

Rob shrugged. "That's still ten grand."

Karl explained how a bail bond works. "He pays the ten percent, you pay ten percent of that. Non-refundable."

Rob thought about it. "So I need a grand to get out."

Karl nodded. "Most likely, him as well," he said nodding to Miguel.

"How much do you have?" Rob asked Miguel.

"I dunno', maybe five hundred, not counting tonight."

Rob nodded. "Tonight kicked ass, we have close to a grand coming I'm sure of it," he replied, looking back to Karl. "I think we can get the two thousand dollars. I just need to call Ellen."

Gathering his papers, Karl got ready to go. "They will give you a free phone call after I leave. Call Ellen and arrange the funds. Here's my card. Have her call me when she has the money. I will keep checking to see if they charge you. Maybe you will get lucky, they might chalk it up to self-defense and let you off altogether. If not, I will call Charlie Miller. Either way, if you get that cash, you should see the streets again in about eight to twelve hours."

Rob and Miguel both thanked him as he waved from the glass. They were escorted back to the yellow holding cell. Curling up on the cold steel seat, Rob closed his eyes, trying to sleep. It was no use. The yelling from other inmates, the terrible stink of the cell and the growing nervousness in his stomach kept his mind awake with terrible thoughts and images of prison.

Sometime around morning, they were called to the desk again.

"Looks like since neither of you has a story that makes any sense, you guys are both getting charged," the desk cop said.

Rob was furious. "Charged with what? Protecting our staff from drunken aggressors?"

The cop passed Rob a yellow ticket across the desk. "Nope. Battery and assault with a deadly weapon," he said casually.

"What deadly weapon?" Rob shot back.

The cop shrugged. "Something about a bloody pool stick and knife as far as I heard. They were found at the scene I suppose. You'd have to ask Officer Green and he's on the road."

Rob felt sick inside. "Do we have bail set yet?"

The cop took out another form. "Yep. One hundred thousand."

Rob felt some relief in the fact that Karl had predicted everything perfectly, everything except the weapon charge.

"Do I get my phone call now?" Rob asked.

The cop nodded. "Yep. As soon as you sign this form."

Rob signed it and shuffled in his cuffs to the wall phone. His groin and ribs still killing him as he limped across the room.

Ellen answered crying. "Hello?"

Rob heard her answer as the automatic message played. "This call is originating from an inmate correctional facility..."

"Hello? Ellen? Are you there?" Rob asked into the handset.

She felt relief to hear his voice. "Yeah, What's happened Rob? Are they letting you out?" Rob felt bad to tell her the news.

"Nope. I need bail money... A thousand dollars. Go to The Pub and get our money from last night. Katie will give it to you. Call this number when you have it. Are you ready?"

Ellen felt tears welling again. "Yeah, go ahead."

Rob read the number off Karl's card. Ellen wrote it down then started to cry again. "Why do you need bail? You didn't do anything wrong."

Rob agreed. "Calm down. I will talk about it when I get there. Get the money from Katie. Miguel and I both need the same amount. Miguel has money in a Crown Royal bag, under the TV stand. He has five hundred dollars there. Add that to Katie's pay out. Hopefully it will be enough."

Ellen tried to tell him something, but the message interrupted again. "This phone call is originating from an image correctional facility..." Before she could say anything else the phone call was suddenly disconnected.

"Ellen? Ellen?" Rob listened for an answer until the dial tone filled his ear. "Fuck! It hung up on us!"

The cop at the desk looked over with a threatening stare.

"Quiet down over there. You need to go back to the holding cell now."

Rob resumed his spot on the steel seat, helpless but to wait for Ellen to arrive with the money.

After a sleepless night, it was late in the afternoon by the time the guard called Rob and Miguel to the desk. Walking to the cell door, they cuffed them again.

"Looks you made bail. It's time to go," the cop said.

"What's with the cuffs?" Rob asked as he leaned against the wall.

"We're releasing you, it's our policy," the cop replied.

Miguel laughed. "You cuff us so you can let us out? That doesn't make any damn sense."

The cop clicked Miguel's cuffs tightly. "Makes sense to us. And we are the one's with the cuffs. So shut up and follow me."

They walked past the cells into an office. At the counter the bail bondsman was waiting. He explained his contract as they signed it and shook his hand.

"Thank You so much Mr. Miller. I can't imagine staying here another minute," Rob said with relief.

Charlie nodded. "Let's hope Karl can work on these charges. You boys could do some serious time over this. I know one of those officers. I spoke with him earlier. He says those landscaping guys were pretty beat up. One is still in the ICU and two others underwent surgery earlier."

Rob looked at Miguel shocked. "Fuck! We are going to get blamed for all of it, everything!"

Mr. Miller corrected him. "Not going to be blamed... Technically you already have been. Now, you have to hope Karl can come up with a defense and at least get the charges reduced."

Rob shook his head as they parted ways. Walking out, Katie was waiting beside her car by the curb.

"Rob! Over here!" she yelled waving to him.

They jogged across the street to her.

"Katie! I'm glad to see you," Rob said as he gave her a hug.

"Me too!" Miguel said.

Katie opened the door. "Get in guys. I'm going to drive you home."

As they drove, Rob explained what had happened during the fight. Katie shook her head in disgust. "All this over sixteen dollars. I swear some people are so stupid."

Rob asked about Martinez. "He had twenty seven stitches, a mild concussion. He's okay though. He says Maria and you guys saved his ass, maybe his life," Katie replied.

Rob felt thankful about the news. "I tell you Rob, this could go bad. But Karl is good. Just listen to him," she added.

Rob felt nervous again. "I just spent every dollar I have, so did Miguel. We can't afford Karl."

Katie shook her head. "You can't afford not to have Karl. I will pay his fee and you will pay it back as you can. I don't want to see you guys locked up over this mess. Things were just beginning to really pick up then this had to happen. Sometimes I hate that Pub so much! I wish I had never been involved with it. I can't stand the thought of poor Martinez getting smashed with a mug over a bar tab. If anything really bad ever happens..."

She rubbed tears from her eyes. Rob could see she was stressed and stopped taking about the tragic incident.

They drove to the apartment without another word of the fight. Katie gave them both hugs and goodbyes before she drove away. Ellen came running out, Maria running behind her. Rob winced as Ellen hugged him around his ribs.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He laughed nervously. "Yeah, it only hurts when people hug me."

She walked inside with him. Lying beside him on the bed, she felt their world had collapsed.

"I guess we are screwed now, no money for the apartment... nothing to even live on," Rob said as he lay in pain.

Holding him in silence, tears fell down Ellen's cheeks. "I am just thankful you didn't get hurt. You could be in the hospital like those other guys."

Rob rubbed her hair. "Maybe so, but the one that could have really been hurt was Maria. She faced off all five of those brutes by herself. If it wasn't for her..."

Ellen stopped crying as he stroked her head.

"Is she okay?" he asked, nearly forgetting she too was vulnerable to injury.

"Yeah. She has bruises and small cuts, nothing bad."

Rob relaxed. "At least none of us got hurt besides poor Martinez, and he's okay from what Katie said.

"He called earlier asking about you. He says he owes you guys, and Maria too. That fight really shook him up," Ellen said.

Rob felt the pain throbbing again as he tried to fall asleep. It was nearly four o'clock and he had not slept since the morning before.

"I have to get some kind of sleep. I need to be at The Pub by five."

Ellen shot up, staring at him. "You are staying right here! Maria and I are going in to work. Momma is coming too. Miguel's sister called, they are picking us up at four thirty. We can cook. Most of the food is already made. Mamma will make what we need. We will serve the dinner tonight. You guys are staying here and resting."

Rob dreaded the idea but his pounding pain told him he would have to go along with her. War torn, Rob and Miguel quickly fell asleep. Armando curled up on the sofa, dozing as the noise of the TV drowned out the sounds from the street.

Katie was filling in for Martinez behind the bar as Ellen, Maria and Momma arrived. Waving them over, she slapped her side.

"There won't be any problems tonight," she said with a serious look.

Ellen looked at her hand. Katie was patting a shiny black revolver holstered on her belt. "I'm not going to allow anyone to touch another employee in here again. Not as long as my name is on the door."

Ellen felt relief and confidence as Katie explained her plan. "I have new door man starting tonight. He will come in at ten and stay until we lock the doors. He's an ex-cop with friends on the force. He carries a gun and he tolerates zero bullshit. Until I get a permanent security person, he will see too it this place stays trouble free."

Relived, Ellen looked at Maria. "You hear that? No more bouncing for you. You stick with me from now on, the kitchen and the tables are all you need to be concerned with."

Maria nodded with a thankful smile.

Katie looked at Maria with a grin. "I've heard a lot about you today. The regulars came by at lunch talking about what had happened. They said you moved like greased lightning, fought all those assholes off all by yourself. They said you could have easily killed them at any moment if you wanted. Where did you learn how to fight like that?" Katie asked.

Maria shrugged, darting her eyes to the floor.

Ellen spoke up. "She was in martial arts back in her homeland. She's kinda' shy about it."

Katie lifted an eyebrow, as she looked Maria's way. "Best student in the class I bet."

Maria shrugged again, making a nervous circle on the floor with her shoe.

"I can't thank you enough for keeping Martinez safe, but you need to lay low in the kitchen for a few days. You're the talk of the bar right now. We don't need cops coming around asking more about the story...now do we?" Katie asked.

Maria looked up, shaking her head silently.

Taking Maria by the hand, Ellen walked back to the kitchen. "I will serve tonight. You stay back here with Momma, she needs your help."

Maria smiled at Momma as they walked in.

Momma smiled back warmly, pointing to the walk-in. "Lets get the food in the oven. You bring the pans with the enchiladas. I will start the sauce."

Maria sprang into action and soon the wonderful aroma wafted from the kitchen across The Pub.

The night went off without a hitch. The Pub was busier then ever and stayed strong until closing. Ellen asked Katie for the food revenue to pay Momma before she left for the night.

Ellen held out the money. Mamma' shook her head, pushing Ellen's hand away.

"I don't want your money Ellen. I just want to help. Miguel loves this new job so much. To hear his stories, you would think he owns this place or something. I want to help him make a big success. He works so hard, for so many years now. My life of working is long over. I can help you out here. I will cook until Miguel, and the boys come back. Use that money for the bills. I pray they will be let off. Just the idea of poor Miguel going to jail..." Mamma said patting Ellen's shoulder, her eyes watering as she turned away.

Ellen thanked her as she walked to her to her car. "Good night Momma! Thank you again," Ellen said waving.

Momma waved back as she piloted her van off the curb and into the traffic.

Maria and Jimmy cleaned the kitchen and stored the food. It was well after midnight by the time Ellen switched off the lights and called for a cab home. As she counted the total, Ellen was surprised at the sales figures. The crew's share came out to over a thousand dollars. In addition, Ellen had over a hundred dollars in tips.

As she counted the cab fare out of her cash, she realized Rob's plan was slowly blossoming into a serious pay-off. Staring at the life saving cash in her hand, she found renewed interest in the prospect of building up the customer base at The Pub.

Once inside the apartment, she found Rob, still in bed, typing on the laptop.

"Look what I have," she said waving the bills. "Over three hundred dollars! And I made over a hundred in tips."

Rob was impressed. "That's the best night so far! I feel bad you three did that all on your own."

Ellen shrugged. "It wasn't hard. Momma knew how to cook everything and Maria is learning to cook those dishes really fast. Jimmy helped clean too."

She explained about Katie's armed security friend and Maria's speed in the kitchen.

"You've been writing a lot since you started. Have you come about a plot yet?"

Rob grinned. "I did. That outline really worked. I have to admit, this is exciting. I really like it."

Ellen looked over his shoulder. "What's it about?"

Turning the screen away from her view, he frowned. "No! You can't read it until it's done. I want it to be a total surprise."

Ellen crossed her arms. "Well, that's not fair. I am the one who got you started writing."

Rob laughed. "I know, but still. I don't want anyone reading it until it's done."

Closing the computer, he placed it beside the bed. She curled up beside him under the covers. It had been a long night for Ellen. Holding each other in a cuddle, they drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 17

In the morning, waking early, Rob and Miguel met with Karl Kilguss to discuss their charges. Karl came out, shaking their hands. Waving, he asked Rob to come in. Miguel stood up with him. "Just Rob for now Miguel. I will talk to you in a few minutes."

Rob walked in, taking a seat across from the attorney.

"Good news and bad. Which do you want first?" Karl asked.

"The good I guess," Rob replied.

Karl leaned back in his leather chair. "They are willing to drop your charges."

Rob shot forward. "That's great! So what could be the bad?"

Karl leaned back to the desk, folding his hands together. "They aren't dropping Miguel's."

Rob scowled. "But... Why him and not me?" he asked.

"I suspect it's because you are a potential witness in another, more important case," Karl replied.

Rob looked confused. "What other case?"

Karl leaned back again, crossing his legs. "It appears the DA is about to seek indictments on your former employer, George Achmed and Ms. Peyton. The good thing is, your name is not on the list. You are however, listed as a witness."

Rob shook his head. "So, what does that have to do with this?"

Karl laughed. "The prosecutor doesn't want one of his only witnesses to be incarcerated, or even under investigation during the grand jury proceedings, or the trial, if there is one. Bad for credibility you know. You would be little to no use to the case if you were a locked up felon."

Rob pondered the problem. "Can Miguel still get off?"

Karl threw his arms up. "Perhaps, with a jury trial. We're looking at a ten to fifteen thousand dollar fee if it goes that far."

Rob looked forlorn. "Can he at least get the charges reduced?"

Karl leaned forward looking at his records. "That's what I intend to propose. If I can get the charge down to a disorderly conduct, he may walk with a fine and time served. If they stick to their guns or even reduce it to an assault charge, assuming I can dismiss the weapon charge, he might see six months, maybe a year."

Rob jolted to the edge of the seat. "A year? That's crazy! We were attacked in our place of work. Out numbered too."

Karl sighed silently.

"A jury would have to see that point," Rob said.

Karl nodded. "I think they would, but it's expensive to get into a trial like that. A judge will never see it our way. Court is a business Rob. Prosecutors and judges don't care about wrong and right. They see everything as potential income for the court. If Miguel has no money for trial, a plea is the best hope. Reduced charges and a few months in jail are certainly better than a felony battery with a deadly weapon conviction. With those charges, he's looking at four, maybe five years. As would you be as well, if not for your close association with Mr. Achmed."

Rob felt unbelievable dread. Miguel was a valued friend. His eyes nearly filled with tears over the idea of Miguel going to prison for years over helping protect his crew. Suddenly he felt anger instead of remorse.

"You tell them, if I walk, he walks, if not... no witness," Rob said firmly.

Karl raised his eyebrows. "No good. If you are called to testify, you have no choice but to appear as a witness."

Rob nodded. "Yes, but I don't have to be a credible one... If I'm in jail, or have pending charges, I'm no use to the case, like you said."

Karl looked at Rob over his glasses. "So you want me to tell the DA if he won't drop Miguel's charges as well as your own, you will face your charges, even it means jail, just to ruin your use to them as a witness?"

Rob nodded. "Yeah. Something like that."

Karl shrugged, tapping his pen. "It's risky, a very big bet. They may call your bluff. What then?"

Rob stood up. "Then? Then we tell them about the Ship's sales reports I may or may not happen to have from the time before George bought the Ship, up to day he disappeared."

Karl looked at him firmly. "Withholding evidence is criminal obstruction, another serious charge."

Rob repeated what he said. "I said... I might have them. I'm not certain. Our stuff was tossed out when George left. They may have been lost. I would have to look. But I did have them. I had every single financial report from day one, and some of them show some very interesting information too. For all I know, it may be the only proof of George's scam that exists. Trust me, if they read these, they will want them bad."

Karl chewed his pen. "I will throw it out there. It's playing with fire though."

Rob shook his head. "No it's fighting fire with fire."

Karl tipped his head as if to agree.

"Do you need to see Miguel now?" Rob asked.

Shrugging, Karl shook his head. "I suppose not. Not until I lay this out to the prosecutor. I will call when I get a reply."

Rob shook Karl's hand.

"Good luck young man. You betting All-In on a risky hand, I hope it pays off."

Rob nodded. "It seems to me it's our only hope."

Saying goodbye, he walked back to the hall and waved Miguel to the elevator.

Making their way to work, Rob explained what he learned in Karl's office. Miguel looked distraught. "You mean I go to prison, and you go free, or we both go? That's some bullsheet. We didn't do the wrong!"

Rob agreed. That's why I told them we both go free or no witness... no reports either. They don't even know those reports exist. George wiped out everything. I have the only proof of his scam. I know they want George way more than us. That story is on the news for god's sake."

Miguel shook his head. "You should just get out of trouble while you can amigo. You have a baby on the way. You need to work for your family. If I go, I go. No need for us both to get fucked over eet all."

Rob slapped him on the back. "You are my amigo. We stick together behind the line, we stick together in life. Familia remember?"

Miguel smiled with worried eyes as they made their way down the sidewalk.
Chapter 18

Rob and Miguel came to work to find Ellen, Maria and Armando already in action. The Pub was bustling and the sales were getting stronger each day. Katie had been bartending since the bad fight. She waved Rob over when she noticed him walk in. Wiping her hands on a towel, she walked him her corner table.

"Look Rob, please don't freak out, but I have some bad news... I am selling this place."

Rob's eyebrows shot up as his mouth dropped open. "What? It's just getting going!"

She waved him down with her hand. "I know, I know. I got a call from Karl. That asshole landscaping company is trying to sue The Pub over the damages and injuries from the fight. Karl says we can beat them by forcing them to a jury trial, but it will be costly if we lose. If I sell now, I can pay them off for far less. I have to get out while I can, I can't afford a trial like that. A thing like this could ruin my life. I hope you understand."

Rob shook his head. Katie felt terrible for him but the trial was more than she could bear.

"Rob, you have to realize, I never wanted this place, this was my husband's dream not mine. Now it could destroy my life, I just want out."

Rob looked devastated. Katie nearly came to tears as she spoke.

"I'm so sorry Rob. I wish you could buy it. I would sell it to you if only I could. You could really turn it around, make it into a proper restaurant, not a damned old bar."

Rob agreed. "I wish I could too, but I have no credit and little money."

Katie felt terrible. Not just for Rob, but the entire crew of The Pub. Nonetheless her mind was made up, The Pub was going to be listed for sale in two days.

"Thanks for telling me anyway," Rob replied. "Usually restaurant owners just bail with no notice in the middle of night. You come to work and find the place closed, or taken over, like my last job. I appreciate your honesty."

Katie patted Rob on the arm. "I really like you all. I wish I could help, but I'm tired of the stress involved with this place and I just want to live a normal life again."

Rob understood, but it didn't ease his worry. She looked at his sullen face.

"I tell you what. Until it sells, you guys keep all the food sales, except the credit card sales, I have to claim that. But all the cash sales are yours to keep, maybe it can help get you a new start, it's the least I can do."

Rob thanked her and walked back to kitchen in grim spirits. Miguel was plating tamales when he walked behind the line.

"Another order of Miguel's Hot Tamales!" he said, laughing as he placed the plate in the window.

Rob couldn't explain to him the bad news at that moment. He wanted to, but the enthusiasm on Miguel's face over the orders, the proud look Army had as he looked over, stirring the red sauce. It was too much for Rob to bear to crash it all down this early in the evening. "I will tell them tonight, at home," he thought as he plated an enchilada order.

As the evening went on, the food sales were terrific, selling out of every item by ten o'clock, Rob and the crew headed home early together for the first time in a long time. Ellen counted the money as they waited for the bus.

"You guys did over two thousand tonight!" she said.

Rob was impressed. "That will make a great split for the crew," he thought. "They are going to need it too. Just as we are getting ahead Katie decides to sell The Pub."

He didn't mention the bad news along the ride home. He still had to build up the courage to explain the terrible twist of fate to Ellen and the others.

At the apartment, Ellen passed out the shares from the sales.

"Whoa! Amigo!" Miguel said as Ellen counted the hundred dollar bills into his hands.

"We are in real business now. We can't even make this much selling weed!" Armando said as he fanned his bills in his fingers.

Rob allowed the crew to have their moment of joy, even if only for a brief moment. Getting three beers from the fridge, Rob passed them out.

"Now, the bad news," he said, twisting the top off the bottle.

Everyone looked up in curious silence.

"Katie just told me tonight she is selling The Pub."

Miguel slumped to the sofa. Armando mumbled curse words as he began digging in his bag of weed, fingering out enough for a bowl.

Rob saw tears well in Ellen's eyes as she dashed to the hall. He reached for her, but she took off too quickly. Maria followed her, but returned to the living room shortly.

"She won't talk," she said to Rob. "I guess she needs to be alone," Maria said, looking sad.

Rob walked into the dark bedroom. Sliding into bed beside Ellen, he felt her sobbing. Hugging her as she lay with her back to him, he lay silent next to her. He knew there were no words of comfort, as there was no comfort to be found in the darkness of their situation. As he lay still, thinking about the day's events, he realized the irony. His new venture had earned more money today than he ever had in the past, more than even possible in New York. But knowing it would be coming to a bitter end at any moment overcame any joy of the earnings.

After an hour in silence, Rob cuddled up closer to Ellen. Hugging her from behind, he rubbed his hands over her hips, around her waist to her breasts. She pushed his arm away with a thrust.

"Please don't," she uttered through her tears.

"I feel just as sad as you do. I just wanted to feel something good. You are my only oasis of happiness in this lost world. I just want to feel you..." he said.

He went back to rubbing her breasts lightly. She turned away. Getting off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom, he watched as she shut the door behind her.

It seemed like an hour before she came back to the bed. Rob watched her as she walked in. She avoided eye contact as she slipped under the covers. Not wanting to anger her in her fragile state of mind, he kept his distance, moving to the far side of the bed as she wrapped herself tightly under her covers.

He lay silent, wondering how life had become so difficult. Taking the laptop from the bedside, he opened the lid. The machine whirred to life illuminating the dark room as Rob began to type. All through the night, nearly until dawn, he sat in the bed typing until his fingers cramped. Just as the light was peaking through the night sky, he clicked off the computer and fell asleep. Ellen never stirred.
Chapter 19

Even though he had slept only four hours, Rob awoke at dawn. Knocking on Maria's door, he woke Miguel. "Miguel," he whispered through the door. "Let's go, we can make it in time for lunch."

Rob made coffee and woke Armando. The three walked to the bus stop and rode to The Pub, Army still rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Getting the lunch food prepped, Rob noticed The Pub was filling up faster as the clock counted down to noon. Orders started coming in, first just tamales for the to-go crowd, then entrees for the lunch hour diners. Miguel noted how many plates were going out.

"Amigo, this food ees really selling! And we don't even have full menu yet, just a tamale and an enchilada special. Just think what we could do if we had the chance to really stock up."

Rob was trying to fight negative thoughts as he plated several orders, but the bad luck was depressing his ambition. "I know amigo. But it would seem luck is just not on our side," he said with a shrug.

Miguel threw a towel at Rob's head. "Why you-a talk that way? We gonna' make eet, you will see."

Rob feigned a smile. The enthusiasm had drained from him. He worked slowly and carefully, immersing himself in the motions and routine of cooking. For a few moments, he found the solitude refreshing.

Ellen walked in with Maria. Rob's intense focus on his tasks disappeared when his thoughts of her rejection returned. She walked up, watching him dice peppers.

"Maria is going to be the server here now. I've trained her and she's really good. Plus, she can cook if you need her too and you guys don't really need me here anymore."

Rob stopped, looking up at her with a scowl. "So... What? You're quitting now?" he asked, staring in disbelief.

"I am going to find a job, something steady. I'm having a baby soon. I can't rely on these ups and downs, all this turmoil. You may go to jail... Then what? I don't want to live like our neighbors, section 8 housing, welfare food cards, no hope for my child..."

Rob went back to his scrubbing. "You're right. I'm sure that's best."

Without another word, he focused on his task. Ellen watched in silence then slowly turned away. She walked out of the kitchen without even a goodbye. Only Armando noticed her leaving and shot her a big smile with a wave as he piled cornhusks on the prep table.

The lunch service stayed busy until nearly two. The crew cleaned up and re-stocked, preparing for the all important dinner shift. Working double shifts had become routine now, but no one seemed to mind.

Mixing tamale dough, Rob watched as Miguel stood side by side with Maria, teaching her to plate the dishes between cooking the last few orders. He expertly guided her through the process of plating each dish with precision presentation.

Rob saw the love twinkle in their eyes as Miguel fed her a spoonful of sauce, sprinkling a dash of salt into the pot then tasting it again. They were a happy couple now. The two souls, intertwined into one life. He was glad for them both. Until last night, Rob felt he and Ellen shared the same devotion, now he wasn't sure what she felt for certain.

As night darkened the city, the dinner service began to kick into high gear. Maria showed her strengths as a server, waiting on every table in The Pub with ease. Never once missing a drink, or making a mistake, Miguel watched her through the pass with pride. Looking over at Rob, he commented on her abilities.

"Look at her amigo! She's got the whole place and she's keeping up good," Miguel pointed out proudly.

Rob smiled as he looked over. He too was proud of her progress, but his smile ran away quickly. Between the rush and his constant grinding depressive thoughts, he couldn't smile at much of anything for long.

Katie came to the pass. "Rob. Have you got a minute?"

Rob tossed his towel. "Sure," he said walking out to meet her.

"I just wanted you to know, I have an appraiser coming by tomorrow. My realtor will be meeting him here around eleven. It's just an appraisal. I didn't want you to panic thinking he's a buyer or something."

Rob nodded. "I will have the kitchen sparkling," he replied as he went back to his work.

She felt terrible about the turn of events. As she looked around the room, she noticed every table was filled with smiling diners enjoying the food. A sight she had never expected to see at The Pub.

Just as the night prior, just after ten o'clock the food ran out again. "That's all!" said Miguel as he passed Maria the last entree. "We have-a no more food ready. We leave early again tonight."

Maria smiled as Miguel winked at her. Watching the two, Rob wondered how far their relationship had come. He knew Miguel slept in her bed.

"I'm pretty sure she is a virgin. Did they have sex now?" he wondered as he watched Miguel stare at her swishing bottom as she walked away.

Wrapping up the last of the closing duties, Rob clicked off the kitchen lights as he walked out into The Pub. Heading to the bar, he stopped to get the night's sales from Martinez. Without warning he was grabbed from behind in a bear hug. A booming voice called out his name.

"Anderson!"

Wincing from the pain in his still throbbing ribs, Rob turned to see who it was with a jolt. Smiling back at his face was Harvey, his eyes glazed from drinking.

"Anderson! Got any tamales left tonight? Those fuckers are amazing," Harvey asked.

Relieved, Rob smiled. "All sold out."

Harvey scowled. "Sold out? It's early! How the hell are you sold out?"

Rob pointed to his watch. "It's after ten. Not much use staying any later. We are all working doubles, six days a week. Come by tomorrow for lunch, or dinner. We have a new special for tomorrow, you will love it."

Harvey took a shot off the bar as Rob tucked the crew's money in his pocket. He noticed the thick stack of bills before Rob tucked it away.

"Either that's a drug deal or you sold a shit ton of tamales tonight son!"

"Sales have been good," Rob replied with a shrug.

Harvey couldn't help but notice the sullenness in Rob's demeanor.

"So why all the gloom and despair? You need a shot?"

Rob shook his head. "No, just ready to go home I guess."

Harvey didn't buy it. "You can't fool me son. I run a restaurant you know. I know when my cooks are lying to me. You, my boy, are lying to me."

Rob shrugged again. "I guess I am."

Harvey pulled him closer with one arm hug as he took a fresh draft off the bar.

"Tell me straight. What's the big problem?"

Rob didn't feel like explaining or re-hashing the thoughts that were bringing him down. Harvey wasn't exactly an old friend, but he had always shown interest in Rob's food. That was a decent compliment, coming from the manager of Cincinnati's top steakhouse.

"I lost my last job with no notice, got all my money ripped off and thrown out in the middle of the night while I'm at the hospital with Ellen in tears. That Goddamn George... I get suckered into a Taco Bell Bullshit job and waste two weeks working for two hundred bucks. Then I come here, clean up that ratty kitchen and work my ass off building up the customer base. Now because of some drunk inbred idiots, it was all for nothing."

Harvey listened as stared with glazed eyes.

"Yeah... and?" Harvey asked.

Rob held his arms out from his sides.

"Now, Katie is selling the damn Pub! I have to start all over. It was all for nothing..." Rob said, hanging his head.

Harvey grabbed him with his big hand on the shoulder. "You got talent kid. You can't buy that and you can't learn it either. You either got it or you don't. You got it. I would hire you tomorrow if we could squeeze the money out the payroll. Those clowns over there won't budge on their bottom line though. Fucking Ruby expects to run a Saturday night with six guys on the line as it is. I would help you if I could."

Rob thanked him. Tossing a twenty on the bar, Rob pointed to it as he called over to Martinez.

"Buy Harvey's next few on this."

Martinez nodded as he swiped the bill away.

Harvey slapped him on the back. "You don't buy my damn drinks son! I buy you drinks."

Rob turned to him. "I know that. I just feel like at least one of us should have a good time tonight. It sure as hell ain't going to be me, so it might as well be you..."

Harvey laughed then drank the rest of his beer in one drink. Rob turned to leave as Harvey yelled out to him. "Keep your head up kid! Things can turn around before you know it."

Rob waved without turning as he walked out the door.

Walking into the apartment, Rob found Ellen alone. She was ironing on the tabletop.

"What you got there?" he asked as he took a drink from the fridge.

"My new uniform," she replied.

Opening the bottle, Rob looked at the logo on the shirt.

"First Watch," he said under his breath. "That's a breakfast place right?"

Ellen nodded. "Yeah, I work from six to three. It sounds easy enough."

Taking a drink from his bottle, he sighed as he sat down next to her.

"I am going to miss you at work you know. I feel like I miss you already."

Ellen kept ironing. "I am sorry Rob. I have to make a change, something has to give. I have to get out of this apartment. I really want that Book Store unit. I can afford it on my pay alone."

Rob scowled. "Why would you just count me out like that? I am trying as hard as I can. We have the money to get it now." He tossed a stack of hundreds across her uniform.

Ellen sat the iron down. "I don't mean that you aren't.... It's just that... All this turmoil and uncertainty... I just want to work somewhere steady and focus on saving for the future. This cook's life is crazy. Every day things are so uncertain."

Rob finished his drink and took out another from the fridge. "So being with me is suddenly too uncertain?" he asked.

He was starting to feel offended and it showed in his tone.

"Not being with you... Living like this. I need stability. I have a baby coming."

Rob felt even more offended with her words.

"We, Ellen! We... are having a baby. Not just you... Me too. You always say it like that."

Ellen hung her shirt on a hanger, taking it to the bedroom; she left the bills on the table. Rob swiped up the money and followed her.

"So all of the sudden, I'm the problem. I'm unstable... My life is crazy. I'm not going to be there for the baby. We made enough today to get the apartment," he said shaking the money in his hand. "Take it. Go get it," he said tossing the bills on the bed. "That's what you wanted right?"

Ellen ignored the money. She walked past him silently. She hated yelling and confrontation. She left on aimless walks or to shop whenever her father used to get drunk and yell at her. Rob drank the rest of the beer in long swallows as he watched her avoid him.

"Being stressed about money is one thing. I can agree with that. But what about last night?" he asked.

Ellen turned to him red-faced. "What about it Rob?"

He laughed. "You just turn away and ignore me like I did something wrong. What did I do Ellen? I'm in the same boat as you are you know. All I have is you and now you are acting like..."

Ellen turned away. "I don't want to talk about now Rob," she said as she mated socks.

"How nice for you! What about me? Maybe I want to talk about it." Rob felt she was being unfair. It flooded him with emotion and anger. "Stop all the conversation! Ellen doesn't want to talk about it!" he yelled.

She shot him a glare. "That's not fair Rob. Sorry I didn't want to have sex right after my world got stomped down around me."

Rob shook his head. "See, there it is again. 'Your world, your baby'. Am I even in this equation anymore?"

Ellen turned away in tears. "Go do whatever you want Rob! I told you I don't want to talk about it."

Rob walked to hall. She closed the bedroom door behind him as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Oh! That's just perfect! I suppose I should sleep on the floor with Armando then?" he yelled through the locked door.

Ellen offered no reply. Rob waited for an answer, a reply or anything. Hearing nothing, he turned back to the living room.

"You don't want to talk about it... You want to lock the door and hide away, leaving me to figure out on my own. Fine. I will!"

Taking two beers from the fridge, he walked out the front door. Ellen ran to bedroom window and watched as Rob crossed the street. Standing up on her toes to see, she almost yelled out to stop him, but as he jumped into a cab stopped at a red light, she realized it was too late. Sinking back on her heels again, she went back to the laundry. Suddenly she was filled with regret.
Chapter 20

Rob told the cabbie to take him downtown.

"Where to?" The cabbie asked.

"Fuck man. Downtown! Fucking Fountain Square, The Banks, wherever."

The cabbie shot him a cold glare and sped onto the bridge, crossing the big muddy river. The cab stopped at a light near the Banks. This was the riverfront entertainment block, people were on the streets and crossing from bar to bar in every direction. As the cab stopped in the crowd, Rob looked at the meter, throwing the cabbie cash; he darted off into the street. Walking down the crowded block, he stopped in each bar in succession. Ordering a drink, he watched the people pass by. Happy couples walked hand in hand, excited about an evening out. He could see the excitement in their eyes as they walked in.

It had forever since Rob had been out. He had been chained to a stove for years now. Working double shifts six days a week. Tonight, The Pub problems and his serious legal troubles were twisting his mind. The argument with Ellen was lit off a fire of pent up anger. Rage slowly replaced any other emotion as his empty bottle count grew higher.

Block by block, Rob stopped in each bar, ordering a drink or two, finding no satisfaction in his surroundings anywhere, he moved on to the next. Soon the drinks were taking hold. Walking into the Jefferson Social, he went to the bar. A cologne soaked Italian bartender shot him a look as he poured a draft.

"What do you need buddy?"

Rob called out his order but the bartender ignored him. Waving the bartender over, Rob repeated his order again.

"I think you need break from the drinks for while," The bartender said with a sarcastic tone then walked away.

"Hey! I'm a fucking cook man! I work for a living in this shit, just like you."

The bartender walked back to Rob. "I don't care if you cook for the Pope. You look too drunk to me, that's the end of the conversation."

The bartender walked away, pointing Rob out to a doorman. The doorman moved closer and began to eye him. Having zero interest in another bar fight, Rob decided to leave.

As he stumbled back onto the sidewalk he passed a crowd of giggling girls, dressed in short skirts, laughing as they dashed into the bar. Couple's holding hands passed him on both sides. The sight of their happiness and glee angered him deeper. On the corner, he saw a girl manning a frozen daiquiri stand.

"What-cha got there young lady?" he asked as he eyed her menu.

"Rum or vodka daiquiris," she replied smiling.

"I will take a rum... Wait... Make that a double rum. Hold the daiquiri."

She looked at him puzzled. "Hold the daiquiri?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, no juice, just liquor," Rob replied with a smile.

She poured the golden liquor in a plastic cup. "Twelve dollars."

He shot her a look. "Twelve dollars!"

She shrugged. "I have to charge for a daiquiri. A double right? This register only has keys for two drinks..."

Dismayed at the price, he handed her the money. Drinking the double shot in one drink, he tossed the cup in the trash. The girl watched with eyebrows raised in wonder.

"Somehow, I don't think the Banks has anything for me. But thanks for the $12 swallow," he said, counting his cash.

Stuffing two singles in her tip jar he walked away.

The night air was alive with bar goers. Pop covers from the 90's blasted out of a dance club. Drunken college frat boys, hugging couples and giggling girls passed by as Rob walked down the sidewalk.

"Fuck this place," Rob said to himself. "Why did I come here? I know where to go."

Coming near the bridge, he sang as he walked. "Sometimes you wanna' go, where everyone knows your name... Where they're always glad you came..."

Stepping onto the bridge Rob headed on foot back over the river again. Stopping in the middle, he could see The Ship's glittering lights in the distance.

"Bahama Fucking Bay... It should be called Bahama Fucking Bullshit!" he yelled out over the water. "Rolled steak... What the fuck even is that?"

Walking into Newport Levy, he bought a bottle of fine vodka from Big Daddy's liquor store. Sipping it from the brown bag, he walked block by block, making his way to The Pub.

Stopping in front, he peered in the big window. The crowd was thick and loud. Not bothering to go inside, he walked around to the alley. A group of cooks in dirty chef pants stood in a circle smoking pot with several pretty female servers.

"You guys want a shot? Rob asked, holding up his bagged bottle.

As the faces turned to look at him, one cook shrugged. "Sure."

Rob walked over, handing him the bottle. "I share, you share," Rob said, pointing to the smoking glass pipe in the cook's hand.

The cook passed it to him as Rob handed him the bottle. Rob took the lighter and lit the pipe. The orange glow of the burning weed illuminated his face. The small crowd laughed as they realized how drunk he was.

Deeply inhaling the smoke, Rob handed the pipe back, taking his bottle.

"That's beautiful smoke. My line cook Army has some fucking great weed too. I wish he was here..."

One of the cooks turned to Rob. "Are you a chef?" he asked.

"Most of the time," Rob replied quietly as he swigged the bottle.

"Where do you cook at?" the cook asked.

Swallowing, Rob shook his head. "Fucking nowhere soon, I will be in-between jobs again here very shortly."

The cook laughed. "Yeah, I know that feeling. We've all been there," he said loudly as his fellow cooks clanked their bottles together in a toast at the comment.

"I would buy you a drink but you have more than you're going need right there."

Pointing to the vodka bottle, the cook smiled, holding out his beer for Rob to toast. Rob clanked his vodka against the beer and leaned back against the wall.

Martinez came out of the side door with a tray of drinks. He did a double take when he saw Rob. "Hey man! When did you get here?"

Rob shrugged. "I don't know, a few minutes ago I guess."

Martinez saw the vodka bottle in Rob's hand. "Damn Rob. You can't drink that here. That's a liquor violation, bring it in and I will put it in a glass."

Martinez reached for the bottle. Rob pulled it away, clutching it tighter.

"No way man. I don't want to go inside. I'm fine right here."

Martinez moved closer, whispering. "C'mon Rob, I can't have you out here with a whole fucking bottle. Just let me put it in a glass."

Rob refused. "Nope. Don't worry though. I'm leaving anyway," he said as stumbled towards the street.

Martinez followed. "Wait... Rob! Let me get you a cab, don't walk Rob... Rob..."

Stumbling with a fairly fast stride, Rob was already across the street as Martinez yelled to him again. Paying him no mind, Rob walked on, disappearing around the corner into the foggy darkness.

Not a soul bothered him as he walked across the city, making his way back to the apartment. Opening the door he stumbled, accidentally slamming it into the wall. Miguel jumped up.

"Damn! Amigo I was about to stab you!" he said in a shaky voice.

Rob laughed and hugged him. "Go ahead Miguel, I don't care."

Miguel had never seen Rob this drunk. "You want some water, or cranberry juice?" Miguel asked.

Rob laughed again. "Water! That's fucking funny. No, I want some dope. You got any weed?"

Miguel shook his head. "Nope. Army has it all. He's at Amanda's tonight."

Rob flopped on the couch. "Well, that just sucks. At least I won't have to share the floor with him. I'm stuck crashing out here I guess."

Maria came out to Miguel's side.

"Why are you so drunk Rob? So drunk is not good for you," Maria asked with concern.

Rob nodded. "Not good at all my Maria, but certainly necessary. Ellen is not welcoming me into her world... Her stability. Her baby. I am all alone I suppose. So you see, this vodka is completely appropriate. And I assure you, it's very good for me."

Maria looked sad. "Ellen, she loves you. She not going to lock you out."

Rob laughed. "Really? Cool. Let's go see."

Stumbling up, he twisted the knob on the bedroom door.

"Ellen dear. I'm home. Open up Ellen." There was no reply.

Rob pointed to the door as Maria and Miguel stood watching.

"What did I tell you? Now do you believe?"

Before Maria could answer, the door flew open, Ellen stood in the doorway, her face full of anger.

"What am I supposed to say Rob? Come on in baby, get me naked and let's make love? This sucks Rob. These are serious life changing decisions I have to make..."

Rob cut her off. "Decisions I have to make..." he repeated sarcastically. "My god Ellen. When will it end with that shit?"

Rob threw his arms up, looking at Ellen in hopelessness. "There you go again. You just keep on and keep on acting like I am some worthless bum who is bound to disappear any day now! My life, my baby... Changes I have to make."

Ellen's eyes filled with tears as she watched him mock her. Before she felt the tears break uncontrollably, she slammed the door shut. Rob waved his arms at the door, turning to Miguel he laughed again.

"See what I was saying about that pot! Now I need it to deal with home, as if work and jail wasn't bad enough! The one day, of all the days, that I need pot... There is none. I have the best luck man," Rob flopped on the old couch.

Miguel leaned close as he stepped towards the hall.

"Eet will be better tomorrow, you will see."

He patted Rob's head before walking back to Maria's room.

Rob stared at the blank TV in drunken anger. The bedroom door flew open again. Ellen dashed passed him in a blur, running out the front door, her clothes hanging out of bags strapped over her shoulders. Rob jumped up, following her.

"Where are you going?" he yelled as he tried to keep up with her fast jog.

"I don't know Rob! I don't want to be here right now. I can't stand this..."

Before he could catch her, she stopped a cab at the corner. He made it to the car just as it was pulling away.

"Ellen! Wait! I'm..."

He watched as the taillights blurred into the traffic and vanished.

"I'm... sorry," he said out loud as watched her cab drive away into the sea of taillights.
Chapter 21

Rob awoke in the bed alone. His head thumped as if he had a mild concussion. His stomach churned, burning. He ran to bathroom, just making it in time to throw up into the toilet. Sliding down to the cold tile, he rested his head on the bathtub's edge. Throwing up several more times, his body shivered against the chilling porcelain. Pulling his way up, he ran water over his face in the sink. Dripping, he looked into the mirror. His eyes were red and swollen, a strand of drool stretched down from his lip.

Running the shower, he stripped and stood under the hot water, hanging his head motionless. The steamy shower revived him as he came awake.

Stepping out, he dried off and dressed in the bedroom. Looking at his watch, it was half past ten. "Lunch!" he cried out loud. "I have to get down there. "Dressing rapidly he dashed to the street, just catching the bus.

Before he even crossed the street to The Pub, he saw a dozen customers dining outside on the sidewalk on the small tables. Crossing the street, he saw Maria bringing drinks and whisking away plates and tabs from the tables, smiling as she thanked them.

Opening the front door, his ears were overwhelmed with the sounds of a busy service. The Pub was crowded with customers. Dashing to the kitchen, he stepped through the door into the hustle as Armando pulled a hot pan out of the oven. Miguel was plating a row of orders at the same time. Rob watched for a second, trying to catch up to their rapid pace.

"Chef!" Miguel yelled out over the noise of the kitchen. "You just in time. We need tamales ASAP!"

Rob paused in a frantic hesitation. Looking up at the ticket rail, he saw a dozen tickets yet to be started. Rushing to the walk-in, he heaved the big pan of fresh tamales off the shelf. Jogging back with it, he stacked the steamer trays, placing each cornhusk wrapped tamale in carefully. Not letting any two touch, to ensure even steaming.

"We need salsa too! Army is frying more cheeps," Miguel called out as he plated six orders in unison.

Rob dashed back to the walk-in, piling his arms with tomatoes, onions and peppers.

Dropping the pile on the cutting board he took his knife, slicing through the ingredients in a blur. Mashing them together in a mixing bowl, he tossed a handful of cilantro across the top and set it beside Armando.

Armando nodded. "Si, Gracias."

Rob nodded back. Pausing, he watched, impressed as the crew prepared the plates with speed and precision. No sooner than the orders were stacked at the pass, Maria appeared to whisk them away. Snapping out of his stare, Rob took his place at the pass.

"Next order. One special, three tamale, three enchilada," he called out calmly.

The crew fell into the usual routine and in minutes the ticket rail was cleared as the last dishes went out.

"Wow! We were really beesy man. I bet we sold more at lunch today than dinner yesterday," Miguel said, washing his hands.

Armando nodded. "Si! We sold almost all the tamales already. We gonna' need many more for dinner now."

Rob took a survey of the depleted stocks. "Damn. We will be lucky to even have enough enchiladas too. I had better go to the market and stock up enough to make it through the night."

Miguel agreed. "Yeah, we will clean dees up and get ready to prep."

Walking to the nearby market, Rob gathered the goods they required. Stalled in the check out line, he called Ellen. No answer. He was about to leave a message when the clerk spoke up to him.

"One thirty six please."

Rob carried the stocks back to The Pub. Along the walk, a car slowed beside him.

"Rob?" A voice called out of the window.

Slowing his pace, he turned to see who it was.

"Amanda?" Rob asked curiously.

"Need a ride?" she asked with a smile.

He smiled back as he opened the back door of her car, loading the groceries in.

As he slid into the front seat, she sped off with a squeal.

"Where are you headed?" she asked as she shifted gears, chirping the tires.

"The Pub," he replied, holding onto his door handle as she whipped into a side street.

"Me too! It must be fate."

He laughed as she slung him hard into the door as they whipped onto the main road.

Whipping through several blocks fast, they quickly arrived at The Pub. Stopping with a skid, Amanda parked on the curb.

"Here we are, safe and sound," she said as she helped him carry the bags.

Armando saw her coming in the back door and dashed over.

"Look what I found," Amanda said laughing. "A lost chef, with sacks of groceries."

Armando laughed as he took the bags from her arms. Rob and Miguel made the tamales as Armando stirred a fresh pot of sauce.

"What's de dinner special?" Miguel asked.

"Remember those crispy fried fluatas at Mamma's?" Rob replied.

Miguel smiled. "Of course, I grew up on them amigo. After school Mamma would always have them ready for snacks."

Rob nodded. "Three, filled with chorizo, smoked chilies, cheddar, and pablano peppers. Just like the ones Momma made at the party. We will serve them with rice and beans, just like the enchiladas. Same price, $10."

Miguel rubbed his belly. "I love those fluatas, I'm getting hungry now.

Armando looked over from the stockpot. "Yeah me too! I'm super-hungry."

Miguel took over the tamale prep so Rob could start the flautas. Armando stopped with his sauce and stood by Rob's side.

"I can do them too. I know how," Armando said anxiously.

Rob moved over, Armando smiled big as he slid beside him. Stuffing and rolling the fluatas into form, in minutes they had a stack of several dozen. After a mere forty minutes, they had enough for fifty entrees.

"The beauty of these is, what ever is left over, we can fry up and serve a la carte during the late night. Three for five bucks or something," Rob said as they worked.

Miguel agreed. "I would buy them for five bucks. That's a good deal to me."

Armando nodded. "Yeah! That's cheap for good shit like this. I can't wait to eat some. Let's cook some for us now."

Rob stacked a plate with the freshly rolled specialties and slipped them one by one into the fryer. In seconds they began to float, turning golden in the scalding oil.

Fishing them onto a towel, Rob plated a platter, slathering a spoonful of Momma's red sauce on the side. Gently scattering the top with chopped cilantro, he placed the platter on the prep table.

"Bon appetite," he said as the crew snatched up the still sizzling treats, taking quick careful bites as they steamed out their wonderful aroma.

Miguel waved Maria into the kitchen, offering her one. She broke it in half, fanning the halves before she bit into the crisp crust, chewing with delighted eyes.

It was just after five when the Pub crowd suddenly erupted into a loud cheer. Rob ran to the window to see why. Martinez was already waving him over.

"Rob!" he yelled, waving with vigor.

Rob dashed out the kitchen door, Miguel and Armando followed.

"Look!" Martinez said pointing to the TV on the wall.

Staring at the big TV, the crowd hushed, watching a newswoman standing outside The Ship.

"We're bringing you a live update on the story of the Cincinnati Riverboat The Good Ship. Hamilton country prosecutors have just confirmed they have one suspect in custody and have begun an international manhunt for another."

The crowd murmured to one another as she went on.

The screen flashed a mug shot of Charley.

"The former restaurant manager, Charley Peyton was apprehended today in a downtown apartment. Peyton is being held at the River City holding facility on charges of theft, embezzlement, grand larceny, obstruction of justice and fraud. Prosecutors expect more charges could follow as the truth behind this riverfront scandal comes to light."

The camera switched to a suited Prosecutor standing on the courthouse steps.

"Ms. Peyton is in custody tonight. We are working with an international joint task force to arrest and return Mr. Achmed to the US for questioning as we speak..."

A reporter interrupted him with her microphone.

"Are there any other suspects that haven't been named yet?"

The prosecutor paused. "We have more people to question but just to be clear, no charges have been filed on anyone except Ms. Peyton at this time. We expect to file formal charges on Mr. Achmed by the end of the week."

The camera flashed back to the man at the news desk.

"This certainly is turning out to be a mysterious story isn't it Norma?"

The newswoman raised her eyebrows. "It certainly is. The details are still being kept confidential. All we know so far, is that the once popular Cincinnati restaurant, The Good Ship was formerly owned by Mr Achmed. Ms. Peyton was the general manager up until the sale of the property. As we all know, The Good Ship was a hot dining destination here on the waterfront. Critics credit the restaurant's success to its talented chef, Rob Anderson."

The screen switched to a photo of Rob from a charity dinner a year ago. The Pub let out another cheer as the patrons shook Rob, taking turns patting him and mussing his hair. Rob strained to hear over the noise of the crowd.

"After the sale of the restaurant, the purchaser, along with a New York investment firm are now claiming fraud in regards to the finances surrounding the sale. These accusations have prosecutors seeking charges on Ms. Peyton and quite possibly Mr. Achmed as well. We will bring you more updates as the information is released."

The crowd turned to Rob with smiles, laughs and cheers. He didn't share their enthusiasm. The entire story only fueled the fires of doubt and worry in him. Turning away from the excited crowd, he walked back to the kitchen.

"This thing is getting a lot of attention. Charley is jail now... Sooner or later, they will want to talk to me... and Ellen," he thought. Nervously deflated, he walked back to the line, resuming the dinner prep.

Ellen was coming out of the shower in her motel room when the news aired. Stopping in her tracks, she stood staring intently at the TV screen as the news story aired. She wondered what Rob was thinking right now. Reaching for her phone, she dialed his number. The phone rang five times then went to voice mail. She wanted to leave a message explaining her feelings, but didn't know where to start and hung up.

Back in the kitchen of The Pub, Rob's phone buzzed on the prep table. He had no chance of hearing it over the rowdy Pub crowd as they cranked up the jukebox.

Steadily rolling out fresh tortillas, Rob slapped them on the hot griddle just as Momma had taught him. Looking at his phone, he saw Ellen's missed call. Stopping his work he called her.

"Hello?" she answered. "I tried to call you earlier," Ellen said.

"Where are you?" Rob asked.

Ellen paused. "I got a hotel room. I am moving into the Book Store apartment tomorrow."

Rob paused silently. "Charley was on the news."

Ellen sighed. "I know I saw it. I also saw they mentioned you too."

Rob faked a laugh. "Yeah, lot of good that does me."

Ellen shrugged. "I don't know. I thought it was good."

Rob couldn't understand. "Why?" he asked.

Ellen paused. "Did you notice they didn't show your mug shot or say anything about your charges?"

Stopping dead still, Rob realized she was right. "That's true. They didn't say anything because... They are going to drop them!" he said with a sudden rush of relief.

Ellen agreed. "If you had charges the news would be all over it. It would be another candle on the cake for their story."

Rob paced in thought. "I bet you're right. How would they have not known about it? Why would they not even mention it? Charley's mug is plastered on the screen like she murdered fourteen kids."

Ellen went quiet. Rob felt nervous and anxious as he wondered what to say next.

"So... you are moving to the new place. I'm glad. I know you will like it."

Ellen stayed silent.

"I guess uh... I guess I will call you later?" Rob asked as he heard her start to sob.

"I guess," she replied with a shaky voice then hung up.

It didn't take long for the news story to make waves at The Pub. Within hours of the newscast, familiar service worker patrons swelled the room, hoping to see Rob and talk about the story. Katie helped Martinez at the bar. Maria scrambled to keep up with the throngs of customers. The crew was forced to stop prepping and fly into action getting the orders out.

Rob watched out of the pass as the tickets kept coming in. Maria stopped at the window looking for orders.

"People here, they all know you Rob. They all ask, "Is chef Rob here? Is he cooking the food?" So many customers!" Maria said.

Unconcerned, Rob nodded, handing her the plates. Just as Ellen taught her, she balanced six on her arm at a time then darted off into the sea of people.

His mind was locked onto why the news didn't mention his arrest. Rob didn't explain his notion that the charges would be dropped to Miguel. "No use getting his hopes up," he thought as he stacked plates in the window.

By midnight, the crowd had calmed to low roar. The food sales slowed down but orders were still coming in. Miguel was serving the trio of flautas for five dollars at a steady pace.

Rob walked out to the dining room to check on Maria. Harvey walked over and hugged him hard from behind, picking him up off the floor several inches.

"Anderson! You're on fucking TV now! What's next? A chain of Mexican Pubs?"

Rob laughed. "Sure! Right after I find a job."

Harvey stopped laughing. "About that, come over here, let's talk."

Rob followed Harvey to Katie's corner table.

"I'll cut to the chase because I want to get back to drinking... I am buying The Pub."

Rob's eyes went wide. "You are?"

Harvey nodded. "Well, me and a few investors, you will never even see them."

Rob pointed at himself. "I will never see?"

Harvey made a sour face. "Yes you, you fucking goof ball. You are the fucking chef here right?" Harvey swigged his drink. "I am going to fix this shit hole up. Nothing drastic mind you, but enough to make it look clean again. You are going to put together a real menu, with more than four fucking items on it."

Rob's face slowly pulled back into a big grin as he listened to Harvey.

"Are you listening to me?" Harvey asked as he stared at Rob over his beer.

"Hell yes! I just can't believe it!" Rob replied.

Harvey nodded. "I can't either. I told myself I would never ever own another fucking restaurant again. But... All things considered. The price is right and I think there is money to be made here. I fucking know there is. Besides, I like it here and I don't want to find another bar to drink at, so I want to keep it."

Rob agreed. "It really getting busy. I'm ready to push it as far as it can go."

Harvey stood up from the table. "Enough of this business shit for tonight. Lets get a fucking drink!"

Rob started to walk with him then stopped. "I can't leave the kitchen. We still have closing work."

Harvey looked over at the pass. "What the fuck kind of executive chef does closing side work? You make me wonder sometimes Anderson. That's what the Mexicans are here for. They can close alone."

Rob looked over as he watched Miguel handing Maria a final order. "Well, I know they can but..."

Harvey put an arm around him. "But what? You gotta' learn to live like the boss if you're going to be one. C'mon, lets get a drink. Celebrate your new job! And guess what? It's the same as your old job! I always wanted to say that."

Rob watched Harvey's face beam as he motioned him to the bar with his beer.

"Why not?" he wondered. "I don't have Ellen to go home to... It's been so rough for me this month. I could use a break I guess," Rob thought as he sat beside Harvey drinking vodka martinis.

Miguel came out from the kitchen. "We're done amigo!" he said smiling.

Standing, Rob hugged him. "You guys rock. I have good news for you. You, Army, Maria, me, we are all going to stay working here. Harvey is buying The Pub. We get to make a full menu, fix it up, everything!"

Miguel looked shocked. "Really?"

Rob nodded. "Yes really!"

Miguel gave Harvey a quick handshake before dashing off to the kitchen to tell Maria and Armando.
Chapter 22

By one o'clock both Rob and Harvey were heavily under the influence. Harvey, a long time alcoholic, kept his composure as usual. His only tell was in his slur and swagger. A group of twenty something servers from the local Hooters came up to the bar. Harvey turned facing the girls, studying them from head to toe as he watched them whisper and giggle.

"Hooters Girls! I love Hooters," Harvey said, moving closer.

Their tan faces smiled at him with perfect teeth as he stared at their breasts.

"Martinez! Buy these girls a round on me. They've worked hard all night serving chicken wings and they deserve a break just like anybody else."

The girl closest to Harvey smiled and thanked him.

"My name is Harvey. This is my buddy Rob, Rob Anderson. Chef Rob," Harvey said.

The girls took their drinks from the bar and followed Harvey to a table at his invitation.

"Hi Rob. I'm Denise."

Rob smiled and raised his glass to her.

Denise pointed to the girls as she named them. "This is Tyler, Sam and Rain,"

Harvey turned to last girl. "Rain. Now how did you get a name like that?"

"My mom and dad used to be like hippies. They used be like into The Dead and whatever," she explained with a shrug.

Harvey raised his brow. "A hippie chick!"

Rain shook her head, "Hell no! I'm not a hippie chick. My mom is, well, was I guess."

The other girls laughed. Rob could see Harvey was making her self-conscience with his drunken flirting.

"Do you actually like working at Hooter's?" Rob asked her, to break the uncomfortable conversation.

She looked over at him and perked up. Sitting down at the table, she scooted closer.

"Yeah I like it," she replied.

"We all really like it," the other girls replied in near unison.

Sam explained her view. "It's like, sometimes guys are like staring at my tits, or ass or whatever and I will be looking right at them but they don't notice because they are like just staring so hard. It's super funny."

The other girls agreed, explaining similar stories.

Rob shook his head with a smile. "I can't imagine working like that, that's crazy."

Harvey chimed in. "Sure you could! Walk around flashing your ass all bare-chested. Lonely sex starved housewives staring at your butt, licking their lips and shit. You would love it!" Harvey laughed, as did the entire party at the table.

Rob didn't see his point. "It just seems so weird. Everyone knows Hooter's food isn't very good. It's the girls that keep it open."

Rain high fived Rob. "Hell yeah it is! That's what we've been telling our dumbass manager for years."

The other girls raised their glasses, in cheers for themselves. Rob raised his along with them.

"To Hooters Girls!" Rain yelled out.

Harvey jammed his glass in the circle as they raised their glasses.

Over the next hour, Harvey ordered never-ending rounds of shots. The girls were quickly feeling the effects. Passing out another round, Harvey looked at Tyler as he held the shot in front of her. Speaking to Rob while staring at Tyler, Harvey spilled his thoughts aloud.

"I know I'm just an old drunken pervert but you have to tell me you wouldn't love to see those fat titties this sexy young thing has!"

Harvey looked at Rob as the girls giggled. All eyes shot to Rob's as he sat tongue-tied.

Not knowing how to answer politely, Rob shrugged sheepishly. "I mean, what am I supposed to say? I am certain she has very nice breasts."

Tyler looked at the other girls slyly. They teased her until she waved them quite.

"Okay already!" She put her finger on the bottom of her shirt. "Fine. I'm not ashamed to show my tits."

As the table watched, she raised her shirt, exposing her two perfectly round tan breasts. Her perky nipples stood out firm and pointing. Nearby Pub patrons clapped and cheered at the sight of her naked body.

Rob sat smiling embarrassingly as Tyler bounced her breasts, her shirt stuck on the top of her mounds, held up by their girth. In seconds the other girls followed suit and pulled their tops up as well. Harvey clapped as the girls bounced their breasts at the table.

Rob was laughing at the scene when over the girl's shoulders, through the crowd, he saw.... Ellen. She was standing at the entry. She stopped in her tracks, staring directly at him. Their eyes met. She watched the smile run away from his face as he realized who she was. He saw the look of horror in her eyes before she quickly disappeared.

Springing up from the table, he tried to push past the crowd to get to her. By the time he made it over, she was gone. Sprinting outside to the sidewalk, he looked both ways but saw no sign of her. In a panic he called out at the top of his lungs, first one way, then the other.

"Ellen! Ellen Wait!"

Looking up and down the streets he saw and heard nothing. She was gone.

"Ellen! I'm... I'm sorry," he said under his breath, his arms falling to his sides in defeat.

Rob dialed Ellen's phone but received no answer. His mind was a blur of emotions as he went back inside to his table. The girls stopped giggling and looked at him as he returned.

"What was that all about? You like, shot off like a rocket," Rain asked as Rob took his seat.

"That was Ellen, my girlfriend. I saw her by the door. She saw me, uh... us, too."

Rain made a surprised face. "Uh oh... That's not good is it?"

She looked at the other girls with her hand over her mouth. Sam shook her head.

"Jesus it's not that big of deal. She shouldn't get that mad. I mean I wouldn't."

Denise elbowed her. "Yeah right, you would be throwing your purse and smacking bitches if your found your man surrounded by a bunch of naked titties like these."

Sam scowled. "I would not and you know it. I would be like, Baby, if you think you can get all those bitches you go for it! I wanna' see this shit."

They all laughed as Harvey brought another round of drinks.

"Did you try to call her?" Rain asked Rob as the group chatted.

"Yeah, three times, she won't answer.

"Were you supposed to meet her here?" Rain asked, sipping her cocktail.

"No, I didn't even know where she was."

Rain looked puzzled. "Didn't know where she was?" she asked with a confused look.

Rob laughed. "Well, no not really. She kinda' left and didn't say where she went. She is at a motel. I guess she wants some time or whatever."

Rain shrugged. "I can see that. Everyone needs time I guess, I mean if I had a permanent guy I was with every day and every night... After while, I would be like... Ready to go out a party or something without him."

Rob nodded. "It's not that kind of thing... Or maybe it is? I have no idea."

As the group talked amongst themselves, Rob thought about what Rain said. "Maybe she is sick of being with me everyday? We've been together almost every minute since Vietnam." He pondered the terrible notion. Lost in thought, Rob ignored the girls at the table until Rain nudged his arm with hers.

"Are you still with us?" she asked laughing.

Rob shook back to attention. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."

Taking his drink, he chugged half of it quickly.

"So I guess you don't want a boyfriend then?" Rob asked.

"Nope," she said. "Guys don't work out for me very long I guess."

"How is that?" Rob asked. "You are very attractive. I imagine you make good money. Are you crazy or something?" he asked with a smile.

She laughed. "I just like to do what I want. I don't like rules. I like fun and sex, and I want to have sex with whomever I want. Guys just want to possess me. We have sex a few times and the next thing you know it's 'You're going where with who?' Or, 'you need home to stay home with me tonight.' It never works out long after that," she said sipping her drink. "Then they get all jealous and controlling. It all goes bad. No fun at all," she said feigning a smile.

Rob raised his eyebrows. "Well, that is kinda' how it works you know. Guy meets girl, girl has sex with guy, guy falls in love with girl, they become a couple... exclusive to one another. It's what most people expect you know."

Rain rolled her eyes. "Oh please, that's fine when you're forty. I'm twenty-two. I want to have some fun before I'm old. Guys just don't know how to have fun. Not like girls do."

Rob looked at her curiously as she slyly smiled at him.

"I'm sure girls are more fun. It's true I suppose, guys do cause most of the problems. I guess I have to agree with you there. I'm sure Ellen would agree too," Rob replied.

Rain waved at him with a frown. "Stop worrying about it. If she loves you, she will get over it. That's what true love is right?"

Rob nodded. "I guess, maybe."

Rain leaned over to Sam, whispering in her ear. The two girls laughed, glancing furtively at Rob with crafty eyes. Rain slid back over to Rob's side, inching closer this time.

"Wanna' have some fun and forget about your troubles for a while?" she asked, sipping her drink.

Rob looked at her as Sam stared waiting for the answer.

"Yeah I don't know about that..." he replied.

Rain whispered to Sam again.

"We do," Sam said with a giggle.

Staring at Rob, Sam pulled Rain close, kissing her on the mouth, stealing glances at Rob's face as she licked her friend's lips.

"Whoa! Hell Yeah!" Harvey blurted out as he watched the two girls kissing passionately.

Rain broke her kiss and turned back to Rob.

"So... See what I mean? Girls do know how to have more fun. So, you wanna' have some fun with us or what?"

Harvey slapped Rob's back. "Just so you know. I don't care if you're marrying your girl in the morning. If you pass these two up, I'll always assume you're secretly gay from here on out. Not that there's anything wrong with that ya' know."

The girls stared at Rob laughing.

"I can't just go have... I have a girlfriend..." Rob said as Harvey cut him off.

"Two insanely beautiful girls sitting there in front of you kissing, asking you if you want in. Two smoking hot sexy tight little girls... Fuck me. I wish I was in your place," Harvey said as he rubbed Denise's shoulder, staring at her breasts, his scotch spilling from his other hand.

Rain shot Rob a wink. "No big deal. I just thought maybe you needed a break from all this stress you seem to be under."

Rob sighed. "I do sure. But I can't just..."

Rain sipped her drink again. "See, that's what I'm talking about. If you can, then why don't you. If you want to, you should. I do."

Rob looked at her as he took another drink. She was a true beauty. Shining black hair, dark seductive eyes that screamed sexy. Her twenty two year old body was in perfect form. Her pouting lips, deep red like her long nails. He could smell her sexiness as she sat inches from him. He knew under her clothes was a body to appreciate for days. The added excitement of having Sam, with her beautiful California blonde body, in his bed along with Rain, was a temptation born of Satan's own mind.

Rain got up from the table. Tugging Sam's sleeve, she motioned her to follow.

"We're going the girl's room. You think about our offer. When we come back out, you can tell me yourself if you wanna' go, or if you wanna' stay."

She winked at him as Sam got up, giggling as she whispered to Rain.

Rob watched them walk across the room. It was a remarkable thing to him that not just one perfect bodied young lady, but two, wanted him just for pure sex. They were certainly tempting. It wasn't everyday an offer like this came along. As far back as he could remember, there was never a day something like this had come along. "Probably never will again," he whispered out loud as he watched them disappear.

Sam touched up her make-up in the mirror while Rain hovered over the toilet seat.

"He's pretty hot," Sam said as she lined her lips in the mirror.

"Fuck yes he's hot. I need a nice hot chef tonight too," Rain said laughing.

"If he turns you down, especially with our threesome offer, he must be gay."

Rain laughed. "He's not gay. His girl saw us showing our tits and ran off, now he's worried he's in big trouble."

Sam laughed again. "Yeah, what timing for her. Little does she know it was all due to Harvey."

Rain shrugged. "I think they are breaking up or something anyway. He won't come out and say, but he said she went to a motel and didn't tell him where so... You know how that goes. She's off in her own world now. If he's used to daily sex, he's probably hot-to-go for some tonight."

Sam blinked her eyelashes over a mascara brush.

"He had better be. There's no one else in this dump worth fucking."

Rain flushed the toilet. Stepping out of the stall, she fixed her hair in the mirror. "Just look at us," she said cupping her breasts with both hands. "How could he say no?"

Sam smiled, looking at Rain in the mirror. "He won't. You'll see."

Rain pursed her lips in a kiss as she touched up her lipstick.

"I know I wanna' find out, and soon, otherwise, we to need to get outta' here."

Sam fluffed her hair, looking at herself from the side. "We can still make last call at Arnie's if we catch a cab."

Rain smiled in the mirror. "Maybe we won't have to. Let's see if our sexy chef can say no to us or not. I'm betting, he says yes." Pulling up her t-shirt, showing her tan tummy in the mirror, she giggled.

Sam pulled the door open, "Or at least, a maybe."

Rain laughed as she tucked her makeup back in her purse, slapping Sam's butt as she passed through the door.

"Maybe, is all I need baby," she said smiling. The two girls walked back to the table hand in hand, determined to coax Rob home with them.

After the girls had gone back to the dining room the bathroom fell silent again. Ellen emerged slowly from an end stall. When Rob saw her in the lobby, she dashed through the crowd to bathroom in tears. Now, she was calm and intrigued. Having heard every word the girls said, she peeked out of the door to see if Rob would leave with them or not.

Rob's table was on the far side of the room. Ellen could just make them out through the crowd, but with people passing by she couldn't see what was happening at the table. Daring to step outside the bathroom, she inched her way along the wall, hoping to hide behind the crowd and move closer for a better view.

Staying close to the wall, she wormed around the edges of the Pub until she could see Rob's table clearly. She made certain to keep an obstacle between Rob's face and hers. If she could stay out of his sight, she could see what he was going to do unnoticed.

Harvey ordered more rounds of shots. Rob tossed them back, toasting with the girls as the jukebox blared. Ellen's anxiousness was causing her to have hot flashes. Feeling her face sweating, she wiped her head with her sleeve. The scene at the table seemed laid back and casual, to everyone except Ellen. She watched with twitching nerves, biting her nails in a corner against the wall as Rob laughed and drank with the flirting girls.

Ellen had come to the Pub to apologize. She missed Rob terribly, facing another night alone in the third rate motel room alone was too depressing to think about. When she walked in, her hopes were high that Rob would see her, hug her tight and tell her how much he loved her and missed her.

Seeing him surrounded by pretty young girls with their naked breasts bared instantly flooded her with sickness. At first sight of the scene, she felt she might throw up right there on the floor, thus running to the restroom.

Now, watching him smile, he looked so happy. She wondered if she was the reason for their relationship troubles. She was well aware her figure wasn't remotely as attractive as these girls. She thought about how she never drank, never danced, never even learned how to have good sex.

Replaying the scene from the fight in her mind, she felt a shaking sadness come over her. "I've been driving him away... He didn't even do anything... I should have considered his feelings... His needs. He wanted me and I turned him away. I don't know why we were even fighting anymore... And now. Now... He has these hot girls wanting him... Any guy would want to have a threesome with those girls..."

Ellen chewed her fingernail nervously as she watched with tearing eyes. She almost felt she deserved for Rob to go home with the girls. Yet, in her heart, she hoped so badly he didn't. "Oh god. What if he does?" she began to consider as she heard Martinez yell out.

"Last Call!"

This was the moment of truth. She watched breathlessly. "Should I forgive him if he does? I guess I should if I truly love him... But would he do that to me, to us?"

Harvey got in one last order of shots before Martinez stopped serving. Rain was sitting close to Rob now. Ellen could see her plainly as she kept touching his arm every time she laughed. Rob drank two shots one after the other. Hanging his head for a moment. Ellen knew that look. He looked to drunk to stand up. Harvey paid the bartender. Then he whispered in the ear of the girl he had been sitting next to.

Ellen watched as the girl put her arms around Harvey's waist, dancing slow and sexy to the music. Sam moved to Rob's other side. Sitting in-between the girls, he looked happy. She didn't know whether to feel anger or sorrow that he seemed so free of the depression that had been haunting him.

Martinez walked out from the bar, clearing out the crowd to the street. Ellen began to worry she would be exposed as the crowd around her thinned out. Ducking back to the restroom, she stood with the door cracked, watching the people pass by to the front door. For a few seconds she lost sight of Rob's table. As the last of the crowd opened up her view again, she looked at the table. Harvey and the girls were gone... and so was Rob. Ellen's heart dropped. She scrambled to the stall, sitting on the toilet lid; she began sobbing into a tissue.
Chapter 23

Ellen's walk to her rented room was dark and lonely. With no regard to her surroundings whatsoever, she walked sobbing from The Pub to the cheap motel. She imagined Rob was happily having an amazing night of great sex with the two Hooter's girls by now. She wondered if he would still be interested in her at all in the morning.

"Maybe he won't come back to me now..." she thought as she crossed the empty city streets. "He's probably gone forever. This is all my fault! If only I had just talked to him instead of arguing. If only I had acted different when he tried to have sex with me. Now it's all too late."

Turning the key to her creaky door, she ignored the dank musty odor in the room as she fell onto the bed. Not even bothering to undress, Ellen slept in her clothes throughout the pre-morning dawn. Her alarm was set to five o'clock. She had yet to get accustomed to her new early schedule at the First Watch. Rising, still half asleep, she walked to the corner store to buy a coffee. The sky was just beginning to light the streets as she walked out of the store, sipping the steaming brew with both hands.

She had the day free. Her new job didn't start for three more days but she wanted to get used to waking on time until the job started. Ellen was excited to meet the bookstore owner today and sign the lease on the new apartment. Her excitement was erratically displaced by sorrowing thoughts of Rob.

In a desperate attempt to put him out of her mind, she decided to walk to the new apartment and start cleaning early.

Stopping at the bookstore stoop, she reached into the mailbox for the key. It wasn't there. Straining on her toes, she looked closely inside the box. No key was in sight. She looked at the dusty window. Her face scowled.

Peering through the door glass, she turned the knob. It was locked tight. Peeking on her tiptoes, she could see little to nothing through the dirty glass. Thinking the old man may be cleaning one of the back rooms, she knocked hard on the door. No reply was returned.

Ellen paced the deck as she dialed the owner's number. The phone rang many times, and went to a message. Unnerved, she peered back into the window again.

"He promised me he would hold it for me," she said angrily as she knocked again harder.

Out of the corner of her eye, through the glass, she could just make out a shadow move across the room. Jumping back, her heart raced with fear. She looked at the other windows. A blind moved in the living room and was still swinging lightly in the window. Ellen backed down to the top stair slowly, her heart racing faster now. Holding tight to the railing, she heard a click. She saw the knob turn. The door creaked open. Peering out with squinted eyes, was... Rob.

Rob opened the door, waving her into the opening, blinking his eyes fast from the dawn's sunshine. Ellen took three fast steps into the doorway and closed the door behind her.

"God you scared me. What are you doing here?" she asked in surprised relief.

"I walked here from The Pub last night. It was so close and I remembered where the key was. It was 2:30 and I just wanted to crash. I could barely walk. I was alone on the sidewalk in front of The Pub and I remembered you were moving in here today. I found the key and came on in."

Ellen looked at his makeshift bedroll on the floor. Rob watched her as he explained.

"I took the sheets off a couple windows. And made a bed out of those packing pads. I was so drunk; I'm surprised I was able to figure that out. I hit the pads and I was out, until I heard you knocking. You scared the shit out of me."

Ellen felt relief wash over her. "So you left at last call, and then walked here... Alone?"

Rob put his shoes on and scratched his head. "Uh... yeah. Whom else would I be with?"

Ellen leaped over and hugged him hard. "Rob Anderson... I... I love you," she said as she rocked him in a hug.

Rob hugged her back, rubbing her shoulders. "I love you too. So you're not mad I broke in and stole the first night in your new apartment?"

Ellen looked up at him with teary eyes. "Our new apartment," she said, smiling through her tears.

Rob kissed her quickly and hugged her tight again. Her smile ran away as she paused and pushed her lips to his. Closing her eyes, she kissed him harder, then softer, then again two times quick. Just as he thought she had ceased, she kissed him hard again, this time, slower and longer. Running her arms across his back, she slid her fingertips down his shirt, then his sides. Sliding her hand down to his waist, she blindly found his belt and pulled it free from its buckle.

With renewed confidence, she tugged his pants loose, running her hand into his warmth. She heard a faint groan as she freed his manhood in the middle of the empty room. Rubbing it with a firm grip, placing one arm behind him, she used it to balance as she slid down to her knees. Using both hands, she wrapped her fingers around him. His manhood grew in her warm grip. Tucking her hair behind her ears with a brush of her hand, she took him into her mouth.

Holding her head gently, he closed his eyes as her mouth inhaled him. Taking him as deep as she could, she paused. Humming softly while rubbing him with her fingers. Digging her nails into his back, she grasped him tightly. Rob's fingers wormed into her hair, coaxing her in time with the rhythm as she found her pace.

She pulled at his tightening base, one hand gripping him against her lips. She tongued his tip as she pulled him away from her mouth. Licking it in fast circles, then slowing, nearly stopping. With a push against his back, she thrust him deeper. Almost to the point of gagging, she backed off then sucked harder, resuming her pace again.

Twisting her fingers around him, she felt him grow larger in her mouth. Rob grabbed her head, stiffening his legs. Holding her, pushing her down onto him, she felt him stop moving as his manhood pulsed hot in her mouth. Gripping with her tongue, she moved it around slowly, gently sucking as he released his all into her. She licked him lightly, finishing with a kiss as she pulled her lips away.

Looking up, wiping her dripping mouth she looked into his hazy eyes as he smiled down at her.

"I love this place already," he said, pulling her up off her knees.

"I was thinking maybe I owed you that one after I ignored you the other night," Ellen said as she wiped her mouth again with her hand.

Rising off her knees, she held him close. She felt the relief she had been longing for in his calm embrace. She was even more relived by the fact that he had not gone home with the Hooter's girls.

Rob re-arranged his pants as Ellen took the rest of the sheets off the windows, brightening the room, causing Rob to squint again.

"Mr. Abner is meeting us here at noon. In a few hours, this place will be ours!"

Rob looked around. "I slept really good here last night. Maybe it was the booze, but I didn't notice any ghosts."

Ellen laughed. "Ghosts?" she asked as Rob followed behind her.

Ellen went from room to room taking the sheets off the windows and opening the blinds.

"It's so old, historic and all. It looks like a place where you would expect to find ghosts," he said as Ellen bathed in the early morning sunlight streaming in the big front windows.

"There is only one ghost welcome here, he will be watching out for us. It's our new beginning, a new chapter in our life," Ellen said.

Rob walked up behind her, holding her around the waist, his hands crossed over Ellen's bulging baby bump as he looked over her shoulder out the windows.

"God knows we need one," he said as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"Things will turn around soon. I have faith. Tomorrow is a brand new day," Ellen said as Rob held her, rocking slow and peaceful with the brilliant eastern sun in their eyes.
Chapter 24

Fueled with enthusiasm, Rob seized the day with vigor. He made his way to Miguel's to gather their things. Stepping into the beer can strew living room, he felt somewhat sad to be leaving. Armando was curled on the couch in a fuzzy blanket. Miguel was locked behind Maria's door. Rob heard the sounds of them stirring as he packed clothes into black garbage bags.

Miguel walked out his door, scratching his groin through his boxers. "Amigo. We missed you!"

Rob stacked the bags beside the front door. "We got a new place," he said smiling at Miguel.

Taking out the cash from his pocket, he counted out a stack of bills, offering them for the rent.

"Here, I have your rent. I can't thank you enough. You have been a kind gracious host to Ellen, Maria and I."

Miguel waved the money away. "No no, we are familia. We share what we have to share. I don't need no money."

Rob shook his head. "You take the money. You need the money," he demanded, shaking the cash.

Stepping closer, refusing to take the rent money, Miguel hugged Rob. "Me amore you amigo," he said quietly.

"Me amore my Miguel too," Rob said, patting him with both hands on the shoulders.

Miguel looked at Rob's over stuffed bags. "You have-a house now, but nothing to sleep on."

Rob shrugged. "I don't care. I'm just glad to be moving into my own place again."

Miguel rubbed his face as he yawned. "My sister, she is moving in with Jose. I think she has a bed she doesn't need, maybe more, I can get eet all for you."

Rob shook his head. "I don't want you to bother with that. We will get by."

Miguel nodded slowly. "Si sure, but you might as well take eet while you can get eet man. I'm sure eets a good clean bed and all."

Rob laughed. "At this point, I can't even manage a ride to pick up free furniture!"

Miguel laughed. "Me either amigo. I will see Maya today. I will ask Jose to drop it off. Maybe you give him some tequila or something."

Rob shook his head. "What can I say? Tell him I have a bottle with his name on it."

Miguel nodded. "I see you at lunch," he said as he walked down the hall.

The sun-warmed breeze blew the must out of the apartment as Ellen opened every window. Rob came up the stairs carrying their bags.

"It smells better already!" he said as he found Ellen in the bedroom. Shaking the dusty sheets out the window, she piled them in a bag.

"I am so happy to be here. Look at this..." Ellen walked Rob around, pointing out Victorian crown moldings, skeleton key brass doorknobs, carved marble windowsills and walnut inlays in the oak hardwood floors.

Opening a cabinet over the sink, Ellen's face lit up as she pointed inside. "Look. There is a full set of antique china in here." Rob's eyebrows rose as she held up a beautiful plate with pale blue and sea green patterns around the edges. Sliding open a drawer, she grabbed up a handful of forks and spoons. "There is a full set of silverware too. It's all real silver."

Rob walked closer, inspecting the fork in her hand. "That's awesome. Look at the detail in those handles. These are high quality."

Ellen's eyes grew even wider. "And guess what else I found?"

Rob shrugged. "I dunno', pots and pans?"

She laughed. "No, well, actually the under-oven storage drawers are full of vintage cast iron pans, but that's not what I was talking about."

Ellen pulled him by the arm into the living room. "Look at this," she said pointing to the ugly 70's style bar against the wall.

"I hated that thing right off, it's butt ugly. Who needs a bar in the living room? If you're too drunk to walk to the kitchen you should stop drinking for the night. I wish we could take it out."

Ellen smiled with excitement. "I did too. And look what's behind it."

She dragged it away from the wall, revealing a brick fireplace, with an ornate cast iron surround.

"Wow," Rob said, as he looked at it closer. "I doubt we can use it though. It's probably sealed off."

Ellen shrugged. "I don't care. It's so pretty, I want to fill it with big candles of all heights, it would so cozy at night."

Rob agreed. "You do whatever you want. I'm not a decorator. I could pull off decorating a cake maybe, but candles and coziness, that's all you."

Ellen hugged him as she looked around the room. Even stark and bare, it was filling her with feelings of home. Rob looked at his phone. "I gotta' get to work."

Ellen kissed him quick and straightened his shirt.

Rob hugged her. "Man I'm so glad I can walk there in five minutes. This couldn't be a better location."

Rocking in the hug, Ellen felt peace. "Come home to me right after work. I miss you already," she said into his shoulder.
Chapter 25

Jogging down the steel stairs, Rob began walking to work. On the way, he took close notice of the other businesses on the block for the first time. A bakery, florist, coffee shop, day care and a small market lined his side of the street.

Turning the corner, he noticed a tiny restaurant with a faded sign in the window, 'Gyros.' He could smell the exhaust from the kitchen as he passed. "I gotta' try that place," he thought to himself, as he inhaled the aroma from sizzling Mediterranean meat.

Cutting through an alley, Rob came into The Pub through the back door. Miguel was mixing tamale dough and smiled when he saw Rob. "I'm making double dees time. I'm thinking we gonna' need eet."

Rob wasn't convinced. "That's enough to make three hundred! We can only keep them for two days. That's a lot man, we'll have to sell a hundred and fifty a day."

Miguel smiled. "We gonna' sell two hundred a day my friend!"

Rob shook his head and grinned. "I like your confidence," he said as he turned on the ovens to pre-heat.

The crew was bustling, getting ready for lunch, when they heard a voice boom through the pass window.

"I need a hundred tamales!"

Their eyes instantly shot in the direction of the voice. Rob laughed as he saw Harvey poking his head into the pass, looking around.

"I'm not kidding. I really do need a hundred tamales," Harvey repeated.

Rob stopped still, looking at him with questioning smile.

"So... one hundred tamales. Will that be to-go? Would you like a Coke with that sir?"

Miguel and Armando laughed. Harvey slumped and shook his head.

"You think I'm kidding? I really do need a hundred tamales Rob. And I need them by eleven."

Rob threw his towel over his shoulder stepping closer to the window. Harvey sipped a beer and leaned on the counter.

"Employee party," Harvey said as he took another sip. "Every year we have a lunch party for the employees, even the cooks get a break. It's the only day of the year we buy-in food. I was trying to think of something finger friendly, but with taste. Something that will impress our arrogant-ass chefs. I have an image to uphold here you know," he said taking another drink. "Anyway, I thought about all the shit I can buy and realized... Rob's fucking tamales! They're awesome; they come in their own wrapper and are somewhat healthy, I guess. Either way, they're damn sure impressive. Even the cooks will have to admit that."

Rob scowled. "Somewhat healthy? They only have five ingredients. All of which are healthy."

Harvey held his drink up and nodded. "See, that's what I'm saying. So can you make them by eleven or what?"

Miguel piped up from the back. "Si we make them."

Harvey nodded with approval. "Good. What's in those anyway?"

Rob smiled as he started helping Miguel. "Corn meal, spices, slow roasted prime rib..."

Harvey stared with a smirk. "That's only three ingredients, what are the other two?" he asked sarcastically.

Rob shrugged. "Guess I forgot the other two," he relied, laughing.

Harvey shook his head. "Women and chefs, they're both full of secrets."

Miguel cranked out the tamales for Harvey's employee party as Rob and Armando worked double time getting ready for lunch. By noon, the Pub was nearly full. Over the next three hours the crew dished out nearly a thousand dollars in sales. With Harvey's big take out order, it put them to almost fifteen hundred dollars. Rob counted the money on the prep table. Keeping back the food costs, he divided up the rest and passed out the cash the crew.

"It's been a hell of day so far!" Rob said as he switched off the ovens. "I'm gonna' run home a see how Ellen is getting along. I will see you guy back here at four thirty." Miguel nodded, smiling as he counted his cash.

Rob was almost out the door when Armando suddenly called out. "Hey wait! Jose called. He says his truck is loaded and he will bring the furniture over. He says he can come in an hour."

Rob remembered Miguel mentioning the furniture his sister no longer needed, and the payment of tequila.

Grabbing a bottle of the best tequila from the stock room he pointed to the bottle as he walked by Miguel to the back door. "He will love this. It's top-notch stuff. Almost a hundred bucks bottle. Thanks to today's great lunch, I can give him some cash too." Armando's eyes went wide as he looked the expensive tequila in its mysterious black bottle. Armando said he would call Jose and tell him to come over shortly.

Taking the bottle for Jose, Rob walked a fast five minutes to the new place. Through the big front windows, he could see Ellen inside. Jogging up the steel stairs, he found the door open.

"We have a bed coming," he said as he walked in.

Climbing off the chair where she was twisting in a new light bulb, she smiled curiously.

"Really? From where?"

Rob sat the bottle on the porcelain countertop. "Jose, Miguel's sister. It's her stuff, she's moving in with him and Miguel said she would just give it to us."

Ellen looked concerned. "I was hoping we could go shopping, maybe at a antique or second hand store or something. I have so many ideas..."

Rob cut her off, waving his hand. "She has a bed and we need one tonight. I don't want to sleep on the floor again. We can finally sleep in a real bed. Let's just use what she has for now and you can buy whatever you want later."

Ellen agreed. "Sure, it's not like we have money to go shopping anyway."

Rob smiled and waved four hundred dollar bills in his hand. "We have a little. We kicked ass at lunch today."

Ellen's expression showed her surprise. "Four hundred dollars? At lunch? That's awesome. With dinner you might make enough that we really can go shopping."

Rob hugged her. "Of course we will. I'm not working this hard to be an intern."

Ellen felt torn about no longer working at the Pub. She wanted to be there to help the venture become a success, but she also wanted to hold her own in the world.

"I can come help if you need me. "I don't start First Watch until Friday; even then I get off at three. They close at two, it's just breakfast and lunch."

Rob replied immediately. "Hell yeah I want you there. That would be great. I mean, if you want to. You can leave whenever you want."

Ellen felt relived he didn't say anything about her new job. She felt she needed to contribute outside of Rob's income.

The old Ford truck came rumbling up to the bookstore. Jose honked, leaning to see out the passenger door. Rob waved at him from the big widow.

"I'll be right down!" he yelled.

Ellen jogged behind him down the stairs and helped unload the lighter items out of the truck. After the goods were upstairs, Rob handed Jose a hundred dollars.

"Whoa! You didn't have to give me so much cash man."

Rob shook his head. "It's for you, and Maya and baby. You know you're gonna' need it. We want you to have it. And this... this is just for you," Rob said as he gave him the bottle. "This is Casa Noble 5 year Anejo. It's 100% blue agave, cooked in traditional stone ovens, aged in white oak casks for five years. It's one of only three organic tequilas in the world. Carlos Santana is an owner of the distillery. It's a big time award winner brand and damn good. You will love it."

Thanking Rob several times, Jose shook his hand before leaving.

Ellen began arranging the new furniture. The bed was small. A mere full size mattress with a white metal frame. Ellen helped Rob assemble it in their bedroom. After it was together, they realized it was too small for two adults. Rob frowned. Ellen shot him a smile.

"I love the old painted frame. And it has a cute dresser and vintage night stands with it too," she said.

Rob made a face. "Yeah, it's great but I'm going to end up on the floor again when you push me off this little bed in the middle of the night."

Ellen elbowed him. "Hey, I'm not that big. Besides, when we get a new bed, this will be for our little one. We can have her bedroom ready in plenty of time now."

Rob nodded. "That is perfect for a kid. We have those two shelves and that basket chest too. It will all go in her room. But the recliner, that's for me."

Flopping into a big leather Lazy-Boy, Rob spun it around with his feet in the empty room. Ellen opened the lids on two large boxes that came up with the furniture.

"Here's a radio, a clock, sheets and blankets, pillows and some, uh... Insync posters.

"Cool! I love Insync," Rob said enthusiastically.

Ellen shot him a look.

He laughed. "Especially back in their garage band days, when they were raw. I don't like the commercial stuff they put out after they sold out though."

They both laughed as Ellen tucked the posters back in the box.

Rob glanced at his phone. "I have an hour before I gotta' go."

Ellen rubbed his head as he sat back in the chair. "You want to get something to eat or?"

Rob looked up at her from his seat. "I'm not hungry but I think I might like the 'or' part."

Ellen smiled as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Rob moved to get up but she pushed him back down in his seat. The recent threat of the Hooter's girls and their aggressive sexuality had been plaguing Ellen with the notion she needed to be more sexual towards Rob. Perhaps not as effectively as the super fit Hooter's girls, but she was determined to try nonetheless.

"You sit still," she said as she crouched to her knees before him.

Opening his pants, she freed his manhood. Resting between his legs, she took him in her mouth until he was erect and ready. She felt embarrassed as she wormed out of her jeans in the bright sunlit room.

Climbing onto the recliner, she poised her womanhood over him. He reached between them and guided himself into her warmth. As she began to slide down onto him, she let out a soft gasp. Allowing herself to sink all the way down, she took all of him deep inside her.

Pausing, getting used to the feeling, she started rocking. Slowly at first, just inching up and down, forward and back. Little by little she increased her speed. Rob pushed her momentum, grasping her hips. Ellen's breasts were bouncing as she picked up her pace. He took one in his mouth, sucking hard, biting her nipple as she kept up her rhythm.

Gripping her hips, he pulled her closer, moving his arms around her back. Easing off one breast, he quickly mouthed onto the other. Ellen slowed her rapid motions. Sinking down, she began rocking, grinding her sensitive spot as she leaned forward.

Pulling her to his chest, kissing up her shoulder to her ear, he could feel her breath stop and start and again as she slowed even more and pushed down onto him even harder. In seconds, she started to shiver. Rob held her close as he whispered in her ear.

"That's it Elle'. Come on... Just like that..."

With a deep breath of release, she rested her head against his. Holding onto the back of the recliner she slowed, nearly still as her womanhood began to spasm in an orgasmic bliss. After it subsided, she stopped moving.

"Don't stop now!" Rob said in a panic.

Ellen grabbed the chair back and began her bounce again. Higher and harder than before, she shook the recliner as Rob stiffened, pushing his body up against hers. Grabbing her hips, he held her tight as he released into her womanhood.

The feeling inside her made Ellen murmur under breath. Rob sank back into the chair limply. Ellen continued slow rocking movements until he could take it no more.

"Too much... You gotta' stop now. Man that was awesome," he whispered, out of breath.

"You're telling me," she said smiling as she watched a pleased peaceful look wash over his face.

Ellen jumped up. Grabbing her clothes, she dashed to the bathroom so Rob couldn't see her nakedness in the bright light. Rob gathered clothes from his bags for a shower. Ellen went back to arranging the furniture as Rob dressed for work.

"When do you want me to come?" she asked.

Rob laughed. "Ten minutes after I walk in the door every night," he replied teasingly.

Ellen feigned a smile. "We will talk about that later. What about five?"

Rob shook his head. With Maria there you can wait until we really get going. Say... Six thirty, or seven."

Ellen agreed as she pushed the shelves into the spare bedroom.

"I'll see you then," Rob said heading out the door.
Chapter 26

As Rob walked into The Pub, Katie was behind the bar. "Hey chef!" she said, waving his way. "I heard you have a new place down the street."

Rob took a seat by where she was standing. "I do. We love it. I can walk here in five minutes."

Katie was relieved Harvey was buying the Pub. "I'm so glad this is going to work out for you after all. You're so dedicated, the food is so good and you just moved near to work and all. It tore me up thinking about putting you guys out of a job."

Rob patted her shoulder. "I was never upset with you. I totally understand. That was a bad fight. Things like that can really make you think about what could happen on any given day. It's a lot of stress."

Katie sighed. "I've had eleven years of nothing but stress with this place," she said looking around with solemn eyes. "I never even wanted it. But it has grown on me. Now, it will be in new hands and I will be relaxing on a beach."

Rob raised his eyebrows. "A beach huh? Vacation time is it?"

Katie smiled as she counted the bills in the cash drawer. "Nope. I am moving to Santa Monica. I have a sister there and I always wished we could see each other more. Now, with no ties here. I finally can."

Rob looked surprised. "That's a hell of long drive. I guess you're getting a moving company?"

Katie shook her head as she thumbed through a stack of ones. "Nope. I'm leaving on a plane. What I can't ship, I'm selling or donating."

Rob laughed. "Damn! You are really moving on with a quickness."

Katie stopped counting the bills and stared at Rob. "You know, Charities are just going to sell all my furniture and stuff for high prices. I have a deal for you. If you come move out everything I am leaving, you can take what you want and donate the rest."

Rob shook his head smiling. "Hell yeah I will! That is awesome Katie. I can't thank you enough. Except for a small bed we just got today, our house is bare. I mean, wall to wall bare."

Katie smiled, pleased with the decision. "I have so much stuff... paintings, dishes, cookware, patio furniture, a really nice leather sectional sofa. Not to mention my four post mahogany bedroom set from my last anniversary gift..."

She resumed counting in silence. Rob noticed a tear welling in her eye.

"Katie, I know those things have a lot of sentimental attachment to them. Why give them up? You really should move them with you."

Katie shook her head as the tear finally fell. "No. No I want it all gone. I'm taking my photos, clothes, jewelry, shoes and cash. That's it. I need a change of life. A totally new start."

Rob thanked her again. "Thank you Katie. We are very thankful for your kindness. I hope you do find a fresh start there. Maybe you will run into a quaint little beach bar for sale."

Her fingers suddenly stopped counting as Katie shot him a dirty look. "That's not even funny. The only thing I want to have to do with a bar from here on out is a cold martini."

Rob laughed. "People are coming in already," he said, looking over at a couple taking seats in a window booth. "I gotta' get to it."

Katie nodded. "We are closing the deal on Monday, thanks to Harvey's cash purchase. Come to my house after four or so. You can start moving everything to your house then. I'm flying out on Thursday and between now and then I have a few friends to see and arrangements to make."

Rob agreed, thanking her again before heading to the kitchen.

A boisterous crowd soon swelled in the Pub. Every table was full by the time Ellen arrived. Maria was carrying an armload of entrees, seeing Ellen, she smiled with bright eyes. Dropping off the food, she came back the pass window.

"I'm so glad you're here. It's so busy, can you believe it?" Maria said looking around the crowded room.

Ellen helped her with the drinks and food orders as Maria asked her all about where she had moved and what was going on now.

"We're getting along good. I got a new job too... When we get settled in I want to have a little party with you and Miguel, Armando too."

Maria cut her off. "Armando and Amanda."

Ellen tilted her head. "Is that so. I'm not really sure if I like that girl yet. But I will invite the both of them of course."

Maria laughed. "I know I don't like her. She was sleeping on the couch last night with no clothes. Her naked was showing, her breasts and everything. Miguel was staring, he says he wasn't but I no better."

Shaking her head, Ellen shared a coy smile with Maria.

The night was steady, busy and profitable. By midnight Rob closed the kitchen. Counting the night's sales, he divided up the proceeds. After food costs and expenses, the crew each walked away with over five hundred dollars.

"Make it last guys. We only have two more nights of this and then we close for at least two weeks. When we re-open you will both be on salary, and it won't be any five hundred a night either."

Miguel made a scowl. "I wish we could buy the Pub. We could keep all the money then."

Armando agreed hastily. "Yeah. And the money from the bar too!"

Rob shrugged. "So would I but I don't happen to have a couple hundred grand on me at the moment so we will just have to be thankful for Harvey. He's a good guy, I am going to work on getting us all a commission, a profit share or something."

The crew headed home to their apartments as they bid each other goodbye. No one stayed for the after hours drunken debauchery that would certainly ensue as the late night turned to early morning. It seemed their new relationships had taken the place of a night of smoke, drinks and another one nightstand.
Chapter 27

The following Saturday went just as well as Friday. Again, the crew took over $900 home between the two shifts. Ellen stayed behind during lunch, still working on the apartment. She was excited with the news of Katie's kind donation to their cause. She was trying to imagine how to place the furniture but had no concrete plan, as she had seen nothing yet.

During his break between lunch and dinner, Rob decided they would go to the gyro place on the corner.

"We have nothing here to cook. Let's see what they have over there. It looks like a shit-hole but it always smells so great as I walk by. I've been wanting to go check it out since we moved here."

Ellen agreed and the two ate together on a sidewalk table. Rob ordered a traditional gyro while Ellen stuck with her meatless diet, opting for a falafel gyro. They both found the food greasy but decent and were glad to have place they liked right down the block.

After his night shift ended, Rob was invited to stay for the 'Closing' party. All the regulars and many new customers came for the final night of The Pub, as they knew it. Rob felt bad about wanting to leave early. But he knew Ellen wasn't about to hang out in the rowdy Pub. He quickly made his rounds, issuing farewells, and reminding them all to come back for the grand opening.

Everyone was drinking more than usual, Katie dished out rounds of free shots as the crowd danced and cheered louder with each passing hour. As Rob walked down the sidewalk, he could here the music and singing drift through the street, echoing off the buildings in the late night air.

Turning the corner, the sounds of the Pub faded into the distance. Walking up to the apartment, Rob saw Ellen in the window again. Cleaning the glass with newspaper in a bare bulb lit room.

The shower was hot and soothing as Rob leaned against the wall, water rushing over his head and ears. Making his way to the small bed. He found Ellen was already tucked in under the covers.

"Are you asleep?" he asked softly.

"No. Just tired. I'm so glad I don't have to work until late night anymore. I need to get a normal routine for once."

Rob laughed. "Normal? This is normal, ask any cook."

Ellen smiled sleepily. "Normal to you maybe," she said yawning. "I like getting to be asleep by midnight, not just getting off work."

Rob knew he was too wired still to sleep. Taking the laptop, he kissed Ellen on the cheek.

"I'm going to the recliner. I can write until I get sleepy."

She curled up deeper under the covers. "Okay, goodnight." She looked so peaceful in her cuddle.

He kissed her again on the forehead. "I will come in after while and wake you up, for some more of that sweet loving' you have hiding under the covers."

Ellen scowled. "You better not! I am so tired..."

He continued the teasing as he walked out of room. She could hear him as he made his way down the hall still talking about it.

"You might be mad at first, but you won't mind once I get you all hot and bothered..."

She knew he was kidding, but the thought crossed her mind he may decide to test her will and tug on her clothes in the early morning hours of the dawn.

Rob spent hours writing. Pleased with his progress, he found his story was coming to life before his eyes. At times, his fingers could barely keep up with his thoughts.

After finishing the chapter, he drained his last beer and crept into bed beside Ellen. There was hardly room for the two of them. He feared she would wake as he crushed in beside her. Even though it far from comfortable, he fell into a deep calming sleep in no time. Things were coming together for them now. The apartment had been just what they needed, his job was secure, his legal charges were fading and Ellen was at his side again. Things were finally looking up.
Chapter 28

With no work and no chores at the bare apartment, Rob and Ellen spent their Sunday browsing through thrift stores, antique boutiques and a parking lot flea market.

Walking to the Farmers Market, Rob checked out fresh produce and talked to the vendors about the upcoming crops. Ellen caught the aroma of something mouthwatering and beckoned Rob to come with her to seek out the source.

Turning onto Madison Avenue, it didn't lake long for them to pinpoint the origin of the inciting smell.

"Kung Food Chu's AmerAsia," Rob said aloud, reading the sign.

Ellen was poised at the door. "It smells good," she said.

Rob frowned as he read on. "But AmerAsia sounds like a bad idea. I just can't stand fusion food anymore. I want the real deal, authentic trumps all to me now."

Ellen looked disappointed. Rob noticed and paused before walking on. "Do you want to try it?"

Ellen shrugged. "I'm just really hungry. I feel like I could eat for an hour."

Rob laughed. "It's that big belly, momma's eating for two now," he said, rubbing her pregnant bulge.

Ellen pushed his hand away with a look. "Don't tease me. I don't need you rubbing my fat, pointing it out to everyone in the middle of the sidewalk."

Rob's smile turned to look of concern. "I didn't mean you were fat. I was just talking about how big you are now, it's hard to believe how fast..."

Ellen took his hand in hers as they walked on down to see what else was on the block.

"Riverside Korean," she said looking up at the sign.

They stopped at the front window. Rob read aloud again as he read the menu items beside the door.

"Bi Bim Naeng Myun, Jab Chae, Jham Bong... Look at all those noodle dishes. It all sounds truly authentic. This is more like it."

Ellen held her arms out. "So are we eating here then?"

Rob laughed. "Easy there momma bear. We will feed you. And yes, this sounds more like something worth our hard earned money."

Immediately upon walking in, Rob noticed the short-legged authentic tables. "Wow! They even have floor seating, authentic dining style."

Ellen frowned. "I'm not sitting on a pillow on the floor. I doubt I could get back up."

Rob pointed to a booth by the window as a server greeted them. "May we sit over there please?" he asked the smiling Asia girl.

"Sure sure! Sit where you like."

She brought menus and water. Rob studied the listings with Ellen.

"This all sounds so good. I don't know what to get," Ellen said.

Rob was torn as well. "This menu is deeply authentic. I want to ease into it. Let's just order something as familiar as possible for starters. Then we can order our own buffet."

Ellen nodded as they chose dishes off the intriguing list.

The setting sun lit their faces as they stole forkfuls of the dishes as the smiling server brought them out.

"Ya Chad Pa Jun," the server said, as she set the plate on the table.

Ellen's eyes were glued to the treat. A pale pancake was wrapped around a mysterious filling. Rob sliced the paper-thin pancake with a knife revealing, green onion, charred zucchini, minced carrot, mushrooms and spicy red peppers inside.

"Is it spicy?" Ellen asked. "I can't handle really hot stuff right off."

Snatching a slice into his mouth, his eyes lit up.

"It's spicy, but not scary hot. I think you would like it," he replied.

Rob passed her a sample. She found it wonderful.

Continuing with more appetizers, the server presented eight golden fried dumplings.

"Goon Ma Du," she server said.

Rob smiled as he looked at the plate. "These are veggie and tofu filled fried dumplings, just for you."

With the first bite, Ellen loved them.

Another server came right behind the last with a second platter of dumplings, this version steamed. "Mui Man Du," she said as she slipped the plate on the table then dashed away.

Next, came a dark grey granite bowl, nine inches high, carved from thick stone. Sliced grilled vegetables and marinated beef strips sat piled high atop white rice. The rice sizzled to a crust against the searing hot stone bowl. A single raw egg on top cooked before their eyes as it slid down into the steaming dish. The server warned them with caution.

"Dolsot Bi Bim Bap. Very hot!" she said, placing it atop a stone saucer. "400 degrees," she added. "Stir the rice off the bottom so it doesn't burn. Here are condiments for you add to your liking."

Beside the stone pot, she placed a foot long bamboo stalk sliced in half long ways. It held seven small ramekins of finely diced peppers, pickled vegetables and sauces.

Finally, the noodles arrived. "Jham Bong" the server said as she placed the heaping plate between them.

Using two forks, Rob dished Ellen out a healthy portion. "You will love these, I have had them a few times before, these smell great. They are thick rice noodles in spicy broth with shrimp, squid, crab, mussels, veggies." Ellen's widened as she watched him dish the glistening noodles onto her plate.

Smiles, laughter, uhmms and ahhs surrounded the table as they feasted on the fabulous Korean food. It had been too long to remember since they had truly enjoyed a dinner out. Watching Ellen laugh as a noodle slipped from her lips, sliding down her chin, resting on her shirt, he wondered if his previous absence of joy was due to his own self-loathing, or the lack of Ellen's love. It didn't matter now as he sat across from her in complete bliss and contentment, biting into a still steaming poached dumpling with a smile.

The sun slid into the muddy river, changing the light from golden yellow to deep orange then violet red as it streamed into their faces from the widow. With the food devoured, Rob and Ellen paid their tab, thanked their hosts and stepped back onto the sidewalk, stomachs straining behind their loosened belts.

Shadows grew long and dark across the street by the time they arrived at the bookstore. They had walked slowly from the restaurant. The food, the warm evening air and the beautiful brilliant colored sunset had lulled them into a slow peaceful stroll as they made their home.

"Tomorrow, Katie and Harvey meet for the closing. Then we start the rehab at The Pub. Plus we can move Katie's things over," Rob said as they walked up the stairs.

Ellen opened the door. "I feel so good about life now. You have a great job, I have a second income and you even have a decent savings from the last couple weeks of sales."

Rob agreed. "I have about three thousand," he said.

Ellen corrected him. "$3548 to be exact," she said.

"We can get by on that," Rob replied. "When the new Pub opens, I will finally have a steady flow of cash again, with your new job to boot, we have a shot at feeling secure soon."

Ellen agreed as she fell onto the small bed. Rob lay beside her in complete contentment. They felt at home now, even in the sparsely appointed apartment.
Chapter 29

Monday morning came awake fast and hard. The breeze blew in the blaring sounds of traffic from the street, echoing through the apartment's open windows. Horns honked and diesel busses hissed and bellowed in the pale dawn light. Rob woke with enthusiasm. Today was the day of the closing. While it served him no real purpose, he wanted to get to the Pub the minute it was in Harvey's hands.

Standing in the kitchen watching the coffee brew, he called Harvey on his cell. A voice mail message answered. He called Katie next.

"Good morning Chef," she replied as she answered.

"Hi Katie, I wanted to follow up on the closing today. Are you still on for ten o'clock?"

Katie acknowledged she was. "Can you get started moving these things out? If you could come move them today it would be great."

Rob knew it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "I will rent a U-Haul and be right over."

Katie paused. "I will leave a key. Take the sofa, bedroom suite, tables, chairs, shelves... all of the furniture. I also have all the household items boxed and packed for you too. I also packed all my winter clothes for Ellen, if she cares for them."

Thanking her again, Rob assured her he would be there as he poured his coffee. Excited, he called Miguel to see if he would help move the furniture.

Miguel answered sleepily. "Si. Sure, I can help."

Rob thanked him and made his call for the truck rental. Walking to the closest U-Haul rental just as the sun was shining bright, he got started right away. After picking up Miguel he mapped the address. Stopping in front of Katie's house, he backed the beeping truck into the driveway. Finding the key just where she said it would be, he unlocked the door and walked into her silent, soon to be vacant home.

Miguel eyed the huge leather sofa sectional. "I hope this isn't as heavy as it looks," he said as he picked it up by one end. The two huffed and hauled the house full of furniture to the truck. By three thirty, Miguel was sitting on the bumper sweating. "Damn amigo. This is nice shit. Heavy, but nice, you will have a fancy place now."

Rob nodded, out of breath. "It's all packed up! I guess we can call it a day here." They climbed into the truck and drove to the bookstore. With great effort and strained muscles they unloaded the furniture up the steel staircase.

By the time Rob dropped off Miguel and returned from dropping off the rental truck, Ellen had the majority of the furniture pushed into place. Stepping inside he was amazed.

"Wow, you really tore into organizing this stuff!" Rob said.

"Do you like it?" she asked as he looked around the rooms.

"Hell yeah, this place is looking like a home now," he said as he fell onto the leather sofa.

"Don't crash just yet," she said. "Lets arrange the bedroom furniture, then help me with the rest of the living room. Just help me with the big stuff and I will take it from there." Ellen nudged him as he lay with his eyes closed.

After and hour of huffing and sliding the furniture around the apartment, the rooms were basically in place. Ellen went through the boxes, arranging the smaller items as Rob trekked the empty boxes and packing paper to the dumpster. Before sunset, their once bare bookstore apartment was transformed into well-appointed suite.

Rob sat on the sofa, admiring his new surroundings. Ellen unpacked her grandmother's quilt, folding it neatly at the foot of their new king sized mattress. She walked into the living room and slid next Rob. The sat silently, soaking in the peacefulness of being comfortable in their new home.

A phone rang on the kitchen counter. "I don't want to get up," he said as he slowly rose to answer.

"Hello?" he answered with a sigh.

"Rob. Karl here. I need you to come in tomorrow, nine o'clock. Bring the reports... if you have them. Can you be here by then?"

Rob knew it was the first day of rehab at The Pub. "Everyone will be there, they will surely be expecting me," he thought. Rob felt bad about taking half of the day off but these charges were scary.

"If I have to be, I will be. And I will bring the reports as well," he replied.

Karl's voice lightened up with relief. "Excellent. I am glad you have those records. It may be your only leverage."

Rob hoped the relief in Karl's voice would comfort him more than it did, but inside he was still squirming with dread over the possible jail time.

"I will see you there at nine am sir," Rob said as they hung up.

Overhearing, Ellen looked over curiously as he put the phone down.

"That was Karl. He says to be at his office at nine.... with the reports."

Ellen's face lit up. "That means they want them! And maybe they will let you go."

Rob nodded. "Yeah, and Miguel too."

She hugged him as he sat back down beside her. "Maybe we will finally get a break and all this bad in our lives will disappear," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"God I hope so. I feel ten years older then I did six months ago," he replied with a sigh.

"Ten years wiser too," she said, settling into his arm.

Through the big windows, they watched the sunset streak the clouds with neon red, deep purple and translucent blue. Slowly fading it's glow, drawing long shadows across the cityscape it sunk from view.

They slept well in the new bed. A phone alarm buzzed alive fast at seven am sharp. Shooting up with closed eyes, Rob grabbed it up, quickly fumbling it into silence. Crashing back on the bed, he found himself in a waking dream. George was smiling at him as Rob chopped onions for a steaming pot of Pho, tears in his eyes as he worked his knife.

Rising up sleepily, Rob showered and dressed for his meeting at the law office. Ellen had already left for work.

Turning to leave, he slipped the stack of reports Ellen had printed months earlier from its hiding place. "I knew these would save my ass someday," he thought as he tucked them into a manila envelope. Grabbing his phone and scribbling Ellen a note, he walked out the door.
Chapter 30

Cool leather scented conditioned air rushed from the doorway as Rob walked into the law office. The middle-aged receptionist acknowledged him with a slight smile as he made his way to her desk.

"Hello, I'm Rob Anderson, to see Mr. Kilguss."

She nodded as she stopped typing into her keyboard then looked up with smile.

"Your expected Rob. Please, go on in to Karl's office, the first door to the left."

Rob thanked her then turned the brass knob on the oversized door.

"Good Morning Mr. Anderson," Karl said as Rob shut the door and took a seat in the wig back chair. "Are those the reports you have there?" he asked, pointing to the envelope in Rob's hand.

With a sigh, Rob handed them over across the desk. "That's everything I have. Among others, there are two full profit and loss reports from the day George took over until just before he disappeared. Both show the same period, but have very different data."

Curiously, Karl opened the envelope, scanning the reports; he sat silent for several minutes.

"I've never professed to being a forensic accountant," Karl said, still reading. "What was your purpose for keeping these?" he asked.

Rob leaned towards the desk. "Ellen noticed unusual entries in the sales. She printed back to before the day George took over she could to get a reference, a baseline to measure the unusual entries by."

Karl stopped reading and looked at Rob over his glasses. "Did Ellen find what she was looking for?"

Rob nodded. "Yeah, on the stained report, there are really high sales before we opened and on days we were closed. Plus all the impossible sales are cash and from server numbers not associated with anyone employed at the time."

Karl looked back at the reports. "So you can identify these entries on these reports?"

Rob nodded. "Yeah, server number 13 is a ghost server. So is the phantom bartender number 3. They don't exist. The older report shows sales on the days we were closed and before we opened. But only on the wine stained report. The newer report shows different dates and times. Someone corrected them right after that stained report was printed. That stained P&L report Ellen got out of the trash is the only proof that exists. Or ever will."

Karl laid the reports on the desk. "In a few moments, the prosecutor will be here. I have prepared this document in anticipation of his decision." He handed Rob a paper.

Rob read it to himself. "...Dismiss all charges against Rob Anderson and Miguel Hernandez... In lieu of testimony in court as a state's witness if required..."

Reading it over, Rob looked up confused. "It's sounds great but it doesn't mention the reports."

Karl nodded. "No it doesn't, but it doesn't need to. We will let Mr. Prosecutor decide how he wants to explain how he discovered these reports."

Rob shrugged. "It sounds shady. But if he agrees to this deal, I couldn't care less what he does with those reports."

Karl agreed. "When he gets here, don't address him, make any statements or answer any questions unless I direct you to. And just to be clear, Ellen printed these reports in an effort to understand unusual anomalies in the sales figures. Acting in the best interest of her employer."

Rob nodded. "Yeah, that's true. We thought Charlie was trying to pull a scam..."

Karl cut him off. "No, you didn't think anything, nor come to any conclusions. You were simply trying to work in the best interest of the business and it's owner."

Rob shrugged. "Sure, whatever you say."

Karl looked at him over his glasses again. "It's very important you limit your statement as to why you have these records in your possession to exactly what I said."

Rob understood.

"Was Ellen a manager at the time she printed these? Or did she have authority from the manager or owner?"

Rob shook his head. "No, she was just a server. But Charley didn't understand how to access the 'Admin' tabs. She asked Ellen to help her. Ellen showed her how to do it, and printed copies of her own after noticing the unusual numbers."

Karl leaned back in his chair. "So Ellen was instructed by the Miss Peyton to access the reports and you read them with her as a second professional opinion. That's what you're statement is limited to. Remember, Ellen was instructed to access them, by Ms. Peyton, The manager at the time," he said seriously.

Rob nodded. "Yeah that's true, Ellen was asked to access them. Charlie didn't know how to do it. She worked on it for days, when Ellen and I came back from Vietnam, Charley asked Ellen to help her."

Karl's phone beeped on the desk.

"Mr. Cranley is here to see you."

Karl pressed the button twice. The door opened behind Rob as Mr. Cranley walked in. He shook Karl's hand, nodding at Rob as he took a seat across from him.

Karl turned towards Cranley. "I think we can make this short and sweet. Here's an agreement I drew up. If it looks good to you, we can all sign and go on with our morning.

Mr. Cranley took the document in hand. Setting back in his chair, he crossed his legs and read it briefly. "This is a bit presumptuous. I don't see cause to drop the charges on Mr. Anderson, let alone Mr. Hernandez," he said, passing the paper back to Karl with a smug look.

Karl took the reports off his desk. "Among others, there are comprehensive profit and loss reports from the entire time The Ship was in Mr. Achmed's control, and before. There are several interesting entries after he took over. Thousands in sales before the business opened, as well as on days the restaurant was closed. All cash sales. In every instance, the unusual sales were entered under employee numbers that didn't exist on the payroll. It may be proof that money was laundered. Were you aware of laundering?"

Mr. Cranley reached for the reports as Karl passed them to him.

Sitting silent, they all waited as Cranley scanned the reports. "Where do you see false entries from non-existent employees?" Cranley asked.

Rob went to speak but Karl waved him quiet.

"Server number 13 did not exist. As well as the bartender number 3. It's safe to assume, all entries under those employee numbers are false. You can see that those entries only exist on the stained report. You have another report in hand that shows the same sales, yet the times and dates of the unusual entries are all in line with the actual times. I can only assume, someone edited the report in an effort to reflect the correct times and dates. The wine stained report is the only record of the suspect sales."

Cranley made notes on a notebook, copying figures off the report. "What days was the Ship closed?"

Karl looked at Rob.

Rob answered nervously. "Sundays we were closed. We opened at eleven, Monday through Saturday."

Cranley studied the reports again. "You didn't open until eleven?" he asked again.

Rob nodded. "Eleven daily, except Sunday." Rob repeated.

Cranley scanned the reports making more notes. Setting the reports on his knee, he looked at Rob. "Where did you get these and why do you have them in your personal possession?"

Karl spoke up. "Those were printed by Rob's significant other, Ellen Addison, a sever employed on The Good Ship at the time. She accessed them under the specific direction of the manager, Charlie Peyton. Ms. Addison asked Mr. Anderson to review them together to better understand the unusual sales figures. It was done in the best interest of The Ship and the owner."

Cranley smiled slyly. "So, this... Ellen, printed months of reports, took them home as her own private property and shared them with Mr. Anderson, in an effort to help her employer?"

Rob didn't like his statement, or his tone. Karl noticed Rob's sudden change in demeanor. Speaking up before Rob could say anything, Karl subtly waved him quiet with a hand.

"Yes. That is correct," Karl replied. "Just like any loyal prudent employee would do. Ellen noticed irregular sales entries and unselfishly dedicated her free time to understand why there were there."

Cranley sat back in his seat scanning the reports again. Looking up, he sat them back on the desk. "These are evidence. I will need copies of them all."

Karl took the reports and replaced them with the document with the deal arrangement. "I assumed you would. Simply sign the agreement and we can all enjoy what is left of our morning."

Cranley smirked. "So I get the reports if these two have all their charges dropped."

Karl held his arms out. "Two loyal employees with no criminal background, rushing to the aid of a defenseless fellow employee struck viscously with a glass mug... twenty seven stitches, a concussion. Fifty-three witnesses agree the five drunken patrons were beating the bartender nearly to death before Mr. Anderson and Mr. Hernandez came to his aid. If not for their quick intervention... They may have killed the bartender. You and I both know how a jury is going see that. By the way, Mr. Cranley... do any of those men on the landscaping crew have any violence related charges on their records?"

Cranley ignored the question. "All five of those guys went to the hospital. Three with very severe injuries requiring emergency surgery."

Rob was beginning to be infuriated. Karl noticed him squirming. With a nod he shot him a knowing glance.

"It's a simple deal Mr. Cranley. Anderson and Hernandez will not be charged for their participation in the defense of the bartender's vicious, unwarranted attack. Mr. Anderson has agreed to willingly offer you these reports as a good citizen. Perhaps, it is the crucial evidence you lack for your well-publicized case against Peyton and Achmed. By the way, where is Mr. Achmed anyway? Have you had any luck with locating his whereabouts?"

Cranley looked agitated as he read over the deal again. "I will agree to dropping Anderson's charges, but Hernandez isn't even here legally. Amend the deal without Hernandez's name and let's get on with it."

Karl looked at Rob. Rob spoke up knowing he was told not to. "It's not negotiable. Miguel saved two employees in a crucial moment of the attack that day. No one who works with us is willing to see him charged without fighting back. We are standing together."

Cranley feigned a laugh, looking at Karl as he started to rise off his seat. "Well, you call me if your client changes his decision. Until then, I will keep my option open to pursue the charges."

Karl shrugged. "I don't see any charges that I cannot competently defend in a jury trial. After all, five men under the influence, beating a bartender with a deadly weapon, in front of over fifty witnesses... In an attempt to evade paying their bill. It's a clear defense."

Rob took the reports from the desk. "These stay with me until this is settled."

Cranley smiled at Rob. "I will subpoena those as evidence. You will have to provide us copies, or face obstruction of justice charges."

Rob couldn't stand the sarcastic grin on his face. "Hopefully I can keep them safe until then. I live in a kinda' rough neighborhood. People break in to homes all the time around there. Anything could happen."

Cranley's smile ran away. "Karl, did you instruct your client to the fact that withholding or destroying crucial evidence is a serious criminal charge?"

Karl shrugged. "I did. But once they leave this office, is beyond my control."

Rob tucked the reports back into the envelope. Cranley watched anxiously. Turning to Rob, he leaned forward in his chair.

"So you are willing to go to trial? Face twenty years on serious charges? Risking prison time for yourself and deportation for Miguel?"

Rob nodded confidently. "I have no other choice. We didn't do anything but try to protect our fellow employee. We were in the kitchen working when the fight broke out..."

Karl stopped Rob with a cough and a wave. Rob stopped talking.

Karl interjected calmly. "Mr. Cranley, there simply are no bluffs to call in this matter. Either we agree on the deal or things get complicated and drug out from here on. It will benefit no one involved to do that. I can't see you tying your time on this minor case when Mr. Achmed seems to be the pressing issue for you."

Cranley blew a sigh with a smirk as he took a pen from his pocket and signed the agreement.

"There you go Anderson. You are both off the hook. Now I will need copies of those reports before I leave here."

Rob handed the envelope back to Karl.

Karl buzzed the secretary. She walked into the doorway a few seconds after.

"Margie, will you copy these reports in total. Mr. Cranley needs them as he is leaving now."

She took the papers of the desk. "It will be just a minute for these copies sir," she said smiling as she walked out the door.

Karl stood up, opening the door for Mr. Cranley. "I expect we will be seeing Rob's name on a grand jury witness list soon?" Karl asked, as Cranley rose up off his seat.

"You may indeed." Cranley replied as he walked out of the office. Pausing at the doorway, he turned back to Karl.

"And Ellen Addison may be on that list as well. It would seem she might be the true witness."

Cranley shot Rob a look of contempt as he turned to leave.

Closing the door, Karl sat down across from Rob. "It worked. You're very fortunate, and Miguel even more so."

Rob smiled. "I am so relived! I can't thank you enough."

Karl nodded with a smile. "It's not over yet. You're clear on the charges. But if Mr. Cranley is willing to drop those charges that easily, it means he needs those reports desperately. With the media attention, and the pressure of that New York funding firm. Mr. Cranley knows his career could be hinging on the outcome of this case. He must have very little in the way of evidence, as he has not formerly charged Achmed yet. I expect after the DA's office submits those reports to their forensic CPA, we will see him charged. At that point, he will officially be a fugitive from justice, and the manhunt will shift into a higher gear."

Rob laughed. "George screwed me and the entire crew royally. Caused us to be homeless, kept our checks, wiped us out totally. I hope he gets what he deserves."

Karl told Rob he would be in contact regarding his and Ellen's testimony and deposition. They shook hands and Rob left for home.
Chapter 31

Jogging up the stairs, Rob wanted to see Ellen before going to The Pub. Walking in, he found her in the shower. Sitting of the big sofa, he called Harvey.

"This is Harvey, leave a message."

Rob left a voicemail as he riffled in the fridge.

Ellen came out in a robe. "How did it go?" she asked, drying her hair.

"Awesome. No charges for Miguel or me. I had a feeling those reports would help us someday," Rob replied.

Ellen was overwhelmed with relief. Not just for his future but their baby's as well. Their intertwining fates had been precariously perched on weakening limb. With those charges impending doom on their lives she had no idea what fate was in store for them as a family. Now her fears were relieved.

"That's so great! I am so happy," she replied with a hug.

Feeling the comfort in her embrace, Rob hugged her tightly. "So am I. I can't wait to tell Miguel. I should get to The Pub, I guess they are working hard by now."

Kissing Ellen goodbye, he changed into work clothes and headed to The Pub.

Arriving, he found the door locked. Peeking in the windows, he moved down the glass, looking of a sign of someone inside. Knocking, he saw a shadow moved from behind the bar. Harvey's face appeared as he walked closer to the light. Rob waved with a smile as Harvey motioned him to the door.

Opening the lock, Harvey held the door open for Rob. "Come on in. I'm having a drink. Everything is 100% off, best deal in town."

Laughing, Rob took a seat at the bar beside Harvey's drink and smoking ashtray. Harvey slid Rob a cold beer and resumed his position.

Tipping the bottle, Rob took a sip. "I was thinking we would be tearing into this place today. We don't have much time to get ready to open."

Harvey took a long swallow from his scotch. "That's true. But, there may be no opening at all."

Rob spun in his seat. "No opening? Did the closing go through?"

Harvey nodded as he puffed a cigar. "Sure sure. It was easy, all cash, no bank bullshit."

Rob sat on the edge of his seat waiting for the reason. "So what's the problem?" he asked anxiously.

Harvey puffed the big cigar to life. "I have investors, remember?"

Rob nodded.

"Well, the god damn go-getter real estate agent. She was working on another buyer before we got a contract in. When she told them it was sold, they asked her to make an offer to the new owners."

Rob looked worried. "So someone else is buying it now?"

Harvey pulled his glass to his lips then paused. "Could be. That's why no work is being started."

Feeling his insides shiver with despair, Rob sunk his head in hands. "What are they going to do with it?" he asked, not even looking up.

Harvey laughed as he swallowed his liquor. "Turn it into a Starbucks."

Shooting up, Rob slapped the bar. "Starbucks?"

Harvey waved his drink and nodded. "I know. Great food and drinks right? I will have to find a new bar now. I hate breaking in a new bar."

Rob took a long swallow off his beer. Wiping his lips, he sat the bottle down. "Yeah and I have to find a damn job all over again now."

Harvey patted him. "I know kid. I feel bad about it. But these corporate guys are offering twice what we paid. The investors are holding out for more, they think they get three times before it's all said and done. That's a quarter million return to them... in a just few days. You can't blame them, they are just investors after all. They only invest for the return."

Rob took another drink. "Yeah I know, but I was finally getting somewhere with this. Now, I'm a just jobless bastard again. Ellen is going to panic. We just got a new apartment... It was coming along so great too. Not to mention, the baby is on the way. I just can't seem to catch even a tiny moment of luck."

Harvey fetched Rob another beer, pouring two shots of top-dollar tequila along side it. "I wish I could help Rob. If I hear of a job I will call you. It's tight right now. We can staff a line with Mexican cooks for eight to ten dollars and hour. Good cooks too. Hard working, they don't complain either. They don't have imagination, or inventive talent like you do. But they can chuck out the orders with quickness once they are taught the menu. I hate to say it. But, contrary to Food Network hype, chefs of your caliber are in low demand these days."

Rob let out a fake laugh. "That's an understatement. Even in New York, it's they same deal. Dishwasher wages for a tough line job, chef positions are only open for the start-ups. After they create a menu, train the staff and work out the bugs, then the cheap labor takes over and wears out the menu for the next three years until it goes out of style."

Harvey shrugged as he took another big drink of scotch. "That's the biz my boy. Get the rubes in fast, get the food out faster. Keep it all as cheap as possible without them knowing who's really cooking the food. Use the chef for morning radio shows, talking gibberish to blushing housewives about stuffing grain fed chicken for Christmas and shit. Train all the servers to repeat the same script: "Chef Rob's this and Chef Rob's that. Pretend he's really back there, hunched over every dish, carefully decorating each and every plate. It's all for the show. The customers have no idea some illegal dark skinned half stoned twenty year old illegal immigrant is really back there slinging those plates out the window for $9.65 an hour. It's not about who's on the line, it's all about the bottom line."

Rob shook his head. "I'm fucked. I'm going to have work as a server. Are you hiring for servers?"

Harvey laughed. "Sure. But chefs never make good servers. Besides, you will get a good offer sooner or later and quit on me. That will make my judgment suspect at the restaurant. If I had a position you were suited for I would give it to you. But I can tell you now; it will pay Burger King money. We have more applicants than we do openings. Hell we have a list of culinary school kids begging to intern for free. Ruby won't cough up any real money for you. That's just the way it is."

Rob felt forlorn. "How about another tequila?" he asked.

Harvey slapped Rob on the back. "Now you're talking my language! Enough of this boring ass business talk. I fucking hate it, it brings me down."

Rob shot him a laugh. "Brings you down! You make a small fortune off Ruby's joint. Plus you will soon get a huge payday from The Pub sale. I'm the one that's down. I'm nearly broke and now jobless, with a baby on the way."

Harvey poured the expensive blue agave nectar into rocks glasses, filling them three quarters up the glass. "Rob, you're a great chef. I know chefs my friend. I've hired and fired more than I can count. You truly are good. Most are hung up on some new thing. Always trying to change this and that to keep up with the next big trend. But you, you adapt to cuisines, you're not afraid to keep it simple and cheap, you focus on quality and authenticity. You have a real passion for traditions and keeping them intact. That's rare today. These new guys all want to take good food and fuck it all up with their own take on shit. I hate that. Trendy fades fast. Modern menus are short lived. Great menus stand the test of time. You will find your way kid. You need to be in your element, you can make great food and great profits too. I saw how this place took off from nothing with a fucking tamale."

Rob threw back the liquor in his glass. Licking his lips, he thanked Harvey for the compliment.

Harvey swallowed his drink with a stare. "You had this place packed, didn't you take out some decent profits you could invest?"

With a shrug, Rob shook his head. "I split it up with the crew. I have about three grand. With bills and a baby, that's not enough to live for long on, let alone invest."

Harvey put his hand on Rob's shoulder. "You should have paid them ten bucks an hour and kept the rest. But, I'm sure you wouldn't see it that way."

Silently, Rob shook his head in agreement.

"I know it's rough kid. But nothing good is fucking easy. You have to be born to wealthy parents these days to get anywhere. But you can still do it the hard way. I've seen it. I will keep my feelers out for a job. Hell, I would invest in a place for you myself if I could. The problem is property values. Everything is selling for more than it's worth. Look at this dump, we may get six hundred grand, maybe even seven fifty for it before it's all said and done. That's fucking ridiculous. If and when you find a good spot, you have to bid against people like Starbucks, Chipotle, Five Guys or some other flash-in-the-pan multi-million dollar bullshit. It's fucking impossible for the little guy these days."

Rob shook his head. "Those joke-joints have pushed the all little guys out of the buildings and into fucking trucks."

Harvey agreed. "That's about the truth of it. You didn't see the trend of food truck's start up hard until after the so-called housing crisis. That whole thing was a scam by the rich to get richer to buy up foreclosures for next to nothing. Those deals are all gone now. The prices are higher than ever. Now, there is nowhere for a hardworking guy with a little scratch to rent anymore. Those trucks are the only place left for them to run to. Those things are everywhere, and with good chefs too. Maybe you should get a truck. I could sign a loan on a damn truck."

Rob finished his tequila. "No thanks. I can't even afford buy on of those either. Not that I would want to. Seems like a pain in ass for the customers and for me. We served over two hundred entrees in this very room three days ago. Two hundred asses in seats, happy customers. It was going great."

Harvey boomed across the bar. "I know god-damn-it. No more business talk. Now, we drink."

He poured several shots one after another. Rob kept up for the first few rounds, finally deciding to cut himself off after an hour or so.

"I'm headed home. Thanks for the drinks," Rob said as he stood up to leave. Harvey hugged him hard.

"You hang in there Anderson. The game isn't over until you give up. Just look at the Bengals!"

Rob thanked him again and walked home to tell Ellen the depressing news. Slightly reeling from the shots, he read with blurred eyes the storefront signs as walked pass. He wondered how long it would be before they all read like a Fortune 500 list, everything corporate, all the food frozen and processed in a factory a thousand miles away, or even in China.

As Rob walked in he didn't see Ellen. Stepping down the hall, he saw her in the bedroom, waving a blanket onto the bed. She didn't notice him. Leaning on the doorway, he watched her as she tucked the corners, brushing her hand across the fabric, smoothing it just right.

The sunlight from the window bathed her in a warm yellow glow. With his alcohol-influenced vision, she looked as if she was surrounded in a golden aura. She looked so loving, so peaceful. He wanted to reach in a grab her up. But he stood still, just watching. Not daring to disturb the moment of peace.

Ellen turned to the dresser. Looking in the massive mirror, she brushed her hair with her fingers. Rob was drawn to her every move. Every twist of her lip, every blink of her eyes was mesmerizing. She was inciting to him. Without a word, he slowly walked up beside her. She jumped as she felt him brush against her.

"Oh my god! You scared me. Why are you back so soon?"

Silently, he rubbed her shoulders.

"You smell like liquor," she said, looking at him in the mirror.

He kissed the back of her neck through her hair.

"You smell like fresh laundry and shampoo," he said as he wormed his lips through her hair, kissing up the back of neck.

Her hair tingled as it stood on end as Ellen stood still facing the dresser. Slowly, Rob's hands moved along her sides, his lips making their way around her neck.

"How did it go at The Pub?" she asked.

"Later," he said between quick kisses. She turned facing him.

"Tell me what happened," she asked again. He pressed his nose lightly against hers, holding her in a close embrace.

"All work is postponed. Harvey says they may sell it to a Starbucks. I am likely jobless again."

Instantly, Ellen felt a deep sadness for him. She knew her job could keep them going if needed. Her fears were more for his sake.

"Don't worry Rob. I keep telling you, tomorrow is a brand new day."

Eyes closed, he held her tight. "I just want to be with you now, close under the covers. I would be perfectly content just to hold you, cuddle you for hours."

Ellen looked at him smiling. "I bought groceries. I was going to start making dinner, but your offer sounds better. We have plenty of time for dinner later I suppose."

Still reeling from the shots, he pulled her to the fresh made bed. Sliding under the still warm blanket fresh from the dryer, they scooted together in a comfortable embrace. Rob tucked his nose behind Ellen's ear and sighed. A warm soothing feeling quickly washed the fear and sadness out of him as they lay still together silently.

The moment was too precious to spoil with words. The love that surrounded them was all he longed to feel.

"Maybe she's right," he thought, as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Maybe tomorrow will be a brand new day."

Continued in Book 5
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?

