Kate said. “Y’all should join us.”
“Appetizer and sides included,” Wendy said. “It’s gonna be delicious.”
Adrienne looked at Al with a smile.
“Whatever you want, baby.” His shirt buzzed and he walked away to answer it. “Excuse me again, ladies.”
Adrienne rolled her eyes. She must have heard that a lot on this trip. “We’d love to join you for dinner,” she said to the girls. “Thanks for the invite. I could use some girl talk.”
They clinked glasses to that, chatted while they finished off their drinks, then walked to the hotel restaurant. It, too, was filled with tropical plants, but it wasn’t quite as jungle-y as the lobby. The walls were painted a light terra cotta, which reminded Vivian of Santa Fe. Very soothing.
The waiter arrived with a bottle of Champagne. He popped the cork and said, “Compliments of the man in the blue shirt.”
The waiter asked Adrienne how she and Al would like their fish prepared, then walked off without taking any other orders. No need as they knew what they were having.
The five girls raised their glasses to toast to new friends.
A few minutes later, Al returned and Vivian asked, “How long are y’all here?”
Al took a sip of champagne. “As long as it takes to relax.”
“Must be nice to have an open-ended vacation,” Wendy said. “I’m a mortgage loan originator and there’s no time for lunch some days, much less a vacation. This is the longest vacation I’ve had in four years.”
“What do you do for a living Al?” Kate helped herself to the just-delivered shrimp cocktail.
“I own an Italian restaurant in Chicago’s Little Italy neighborhood,” he said. “Family business. My Poppi opened it in the ’40s.”
“Best cannoli this side of the Atlantic.” Adrienne raised her glass to toast Al.
“So are y’all in the mob?” Lucy asked.
Kate nudged her. Lucy had seen too many episodes of The Sopranos .
Adrienne sucked in her breath but Al shook his head and said, “Nah, I try not to get involved in anything like that. I’m just a guy who owns a little Italian restaurant and goes to mass on Sunday.”
Adrienne coughed lightly and rolled her eyes.
Vivian didn’t quite believe Al’s story. Mass or not, he looked like he had a devilish side. To break the tension, she gestured with a shrimp, “Wow, this cocktail sauce is excellent.”
Al flagged down the waiter and ordered a bottle of Vouvray, Vivian’s all-time favorite white wine.
“So are you Cubs fans or White Sox fans,” Wendy asked, “and why does Chicago have two teams?”
“Sox fans all the way.” Adrienne held up her champagne glass as a toast. “There is no other team.”
Al’s face turned red at the mention of the Cubs. Okay, that discussion was closed. His phone rang, and he was off to answer it. Three rings in less than an hour.
What’s with that ?
“Al works really hard at the restaurant,” Adrienne said. “He came down here to relax but he’s been on the phone non-stop. That damn thing might as well be duct-taped to his face. I feel like tossing it in the ocean.”
“I understand how hard it can be to leave work behind and totally relax.” Wendy rolled her shoulders. “It must be hard for him to leave the restaurant in the hands of others while he’s away. Maybe you should try a couple’s massage?”
“He’s got his cousin running the restaurant and shouldn’t be worried about it,” Adrienne replied. “I already tried the couples massage, and he refused to turn his phone off. It rang twice and ruined my massage. Pisses me off.”
“The longer it takes him to relax the longer you get to stay in paradise,” Vivian reminded her.
“Cheers to that!” Adrienne held up her glass again.
Wendy excused herself, needing to powder her nose. As she left the restroom, she stopped to dig a pebble out of her sandal and overheard Al talking on the phone in the men’s room, in Spanish. “ Vamos a la fiesta de la noche del Viernes
“Appetizer and sides included,” Wendy said. “It’s gonna be delicious.”
Adrienne looked at Al with a smile.
“Whatever you want, baby.” His shirt buzzed and he walked away to answer it. “Excuse me again, ladies.”
Adrienne rolled her eyes. She must have heard that a lot on this trip. “We’d love to join you for dinner,” she said to the girls. “Thanks for the invite. I could use some girl talk.”
They clinked glasses to that, chatted while they finished off their drinks, then walked to the hotel restaurant. It, too, was filled with tropical plants, but it wasn’t quite as jungle-y as the lobby. The walls were painted a light terra cotta, which reminded Vivian of Santa Fe. Very soothing.
The waiter arrived with a bottle of Champagne. He popped the cork and said, “Compliments of the man in the blue shirt.”
The waiter asked Adrienne how she and Al would like their fish prepared, then walked off without taking any other orders. No need as they knew what they were having.
The five girls raised their glasses to toast to new friends.
A few minutes later, Al returned and Vivian asked, “How long are y’all here?”
Al took a sip of champagne. “As long as it takes to relax.”
“Must be nice to have an open-ended vacation,” Wendy said. “I’m a mortgage loan originator and there’s no time for lunch some days, much less a vacation. This is the longest vacation I’ve had in four years.”
“What do you do for a living Al?” Kate helped herself to the just-delivered shrimp cocktail.
“I own an Italian restaurant in Chicago’s Little Italy neighborhood,” he said. “Family business. My Poppi opened it in the ’40s.”
“Best cannoli this side of the Atlantic.” Adrienne raised her glass to toast Al.
“So are y’all in the mob?” Lucy asked.
Kate nudged her. Lucy had seen too many episodes of The Sopranos .
Adrienne sucked in her breath but Al shook his head and said, “Nah, I try not to get involved in anything like that. I’m just a guy who owns a little Italian restaurant and goes to mass on Sunday.”
Adrienne coughed lightly and rolled her eyes.
Vivian didn’t quite believe Al’s story. Mass or not, he looked like he had a devilish side. To break the tension, she gestured with a shrimp, “Wow, this cocktail sauce is excellent.”
Al flagged down the waiter and ordered a bottle of Vouvray, Vivian’s all-time favorite white wine.
“So are you Cubs fans or White Sox fans,” Wendy asked, “and why does Chicago have two teams?”
“Sox fans all the way.” Adrienne held up her champagne glass as a toast. “There is no other team.”
Al’s face turned red at the mention of the Cubs. Okay, that discussion was closed. His phone rang, and he was off to answer it. Three rings in less than an hour.
What’s with that ?
“Al works really hard at the restaurant,” Adrienne said. “He came down here to relax but he’s been on the phone non-stop. That damn thing might as well be duct-taped to his face. I feel like tossing it in the ocean.”
“I understand how hard it can be to leave work behind and totally relax.” Wendy rolled her shoulders. “It must be hard for him to leave the restaurant in the hands of others while he’s away. Maybe you should try a couple’s massage?”
“He’s got his cousin running the restaurant and shouldn’t be worried about it,” Adrienne replied. “I already tried the couples massage, and he refused to turn his phone off. It rang twice and ruined my massage. Pisses me off.”
“The longer it takes him to relax the longer you get to stay in paradise,” Vivian reminded her.
“Cheers to that!” Adrienne held up her glass again.
Wendy excused herself, needing to powder her nose. As she left the restroom, she stopped to dig a pebble out of her sandal and overheard Al talking on the phone in the men’s room, in Spanish. “ Vamos a la fiesta de la noche del Viernes
Similar Books
