woman with regrets," said Campbell aloud. "I would think about missing a fine meal at Lola's."
Campbell retreated. This was his habit. Whenever he got too close to understanding himself, or thinking about life he pulled away and focused on basic things like food or sex.
Chapter 2
Stella twisted her pearl drop earring and thought about sleeping. She sipped a cup of coffee that was sitting next to the reservation book. The manager didn't allow visible drinks for the staff. Usually you had to go to the kitchen and drink but the manager was out sick. Something about swollen ankles, which Stella found humorous.
"Who calls in sick with swollen ankles when you’re thirty years old?" wondered Stella.
Stella figured the rules didn't apply when the manager was gone. The Assistant Manager, Kelly Morrison, was in charge and she was a friend of Stella's. Not a close friend. A literary friend. Kelly was in the same writing group as Stella. Kelly wouldn't attack Stella for drinking coffee in the open. Kelly would understand why Stella was tired. Spending the morning writing, then the afternoon transcribing in a law office and then the evening as a hostess at a restaurant could deplete anyone's energy.
Stella looked at the reservation book. They were full. It would be a very busy night. Stella sighed and continued twisting her pearl earring. The earrings had been bought in the Village on a triple markdown rack. They were pretty but heavy and they tugged at her ear lobes. She wanted to take them off but she knew they enhanced her outfit and Lola's was all about image. The restaurant required that she dress nicely and in all black, which for Stella meant rotating two outfits throughout the week.
The phone rang and Stella picked it up. "Hello, Lola's. How can I help you?"
"Oh, yes," said the haughty voice. "I would like to make a reservation for one. I would like to eat the balls of a bull. Do you serve that? I spent time in Spain and am simply mad about bulls balls."
"Ummm…I'm not sure the kitchen can prepare that."
The caller then guffawed. "It's me silly."
Stella relaxed her shoulders and smiled. "Really Jane. Don't you have better things to do than prank calling me?"
"Nope. Not at all. How's the J-O-B going?"
"Fine. Getting ready for a busy night which basically means I am gulping coffee."
"So Derek is having a shindig tonight. Please come. It's in his sister's loft. Not far from Lola's."
"I'm working."
"Come over when you get off work. Pleaaassseeee. You simply must come. There will be loads of artists and writers. Derek always invites interesting people. I'm sure the party will just be getting in high gear when you get there."
"I'll think about it. I'm really tired though." Stella eyed the door. One of the waitresses rushed in. She was tying her black apron and kept her head down.
"You always say you're tired. You can sleep when you're dead."
"On that note, I'm going to hang up now."
"I'll text you the address of the party."
"OK."
Stella took another sip of coffee. She considered using the restroom and leaning her head against the stall to get a few blissful moments with her eyes shut but the front door opened and customers began filing in. It was 6:00 PM. Very early for a Manhattan dinner but Lola's was popular.
The night unfolded like any other busy night in the restaurant. Reservations were confirmed, canceled, take out was ordered, people were seated and menus passed out. Stella forgot she was tired a half hour into her shift. She had a few difficult customers and one slipped her a $50 dollar bill if he could get a center table. He objected to being seated near the kitchen.
"It's all about visibility," said the man in a crisp, dark suit. He was balding but Stella could see hairs poking from his ears and nose.
"What is?"
"Sitting in the center gets you noticed."
"So you want to be noticed?"
“Don’t we all?”
Stella smiled tightly. “Not all of us.”
“Well, I’m a movie producer. I have to be
Campbell retreated. This was his habit. Whenever he got too close to understanding himself, or thinking about life he pulled away and focused on basic things like food or sex.
Chapter 2
Stella twisted her pearl drop earring and thought about sleeping. She sipped a cup of coffee that was sitting next to the reservation book. The manager didn't allow visible drinks for the staff. Usually you had to go to the kitchen and drink but the manager was out sick. Something about swollen ankles, which Stella found humorous.
"Who calls in sick with swollen ankles when you’re thirty years old?" wondered Stella.
Stella figured the rules didn't apply when the manager was gone. The Assistant Manager, Kelly Morrison, was in charge and she was a friend of Stella's. Not a close friend. A literary friend. Kelly was in the same writing group as Stella. Kelly wouldn't attack Stella for drinking coffee in the open. Kelly would understand why Stella was tired. Spending the morning writing, then the afternoon transcribing in a law office and then the evening as a hostess at a restaurant could deplete anyone's energy.
Stella looked at the reservation book. They were full. It would be a very busy night. Stella sighed and continued twisting her pearl earring. The earrings had been bought in the Village on a triple markdown rack. They were pretty but heavy and they tugged at her ear lobes. She wanted to take them off but she knew they enhanced her outfit and Lola's was all about image. The restaurant required that she dress nicely and in all black, which for Stella meant rotating two outfits throughout the week.
The phone rang and Stella picked it up. "Hello, Lola's. How can I help you?"
"Oh, yes," said the haughty voice. "I would like to make a reservation for one. I would like to eat the balls of a bull. Do you serve that? I spent time in Spain and am simply mad about bulls balls."
"Ummm…I'm not sure the kitchen can prepare that."
The caller then guffawed. "It's me silly."
Stella relaxed her shoulders and smiled. "Really Jane. Don't you have better things to do than prank calling me?"
"Nope. Not at all. How's the J-O-B going?"
"Fine. Getting ready for a busy night which basically means I am gulping coffee."
"So Derek is having a shindig tonight. Please come. It's in his sister's loft. Not far from Lola's."
"I'm working."
"Come over when you get off work. Pleaaassseeee. You simply must come. There will be loads of artists and writers. Derek always invites interesting people. I'm sure the party will just be getting in high gear when you get there."
"I'll think about it. I'm really tired though." Stella eyed the door. One of the waitresses rushed in. She was tying her black apron and kept her head down.
"You always say you're tired. You can sleep when you're dead."
"On that note, I'm going to hang up now."
"I'll text you the address of the party."
"OK."
Stella took another sip of coffee. She considered using the restroom and leaning her head against the stall to get a few blissful moments with her eyes shut but the front door opened and customers began filing in. It was 6:00 PM. Very early for a Manhattan dinner but Lola's was popular.
The night unfolded like any other busy night in the restaurant. Reservations were confirmed, canceled, take out was ordered, people were seated and menus passed out. Stella forgot she was tired a half hour into her shift. She had a few difficult customers and one slipped her a $50 dollar bill if he could get a center table. He objected to being seated near the kitchen.
"It's all about visibility," said the man in a crisp, dark suit. He was balding but Stella could see hairs poking from his ears and nose.
"What is?"
"Sitting in the center gets you noticed."
"So you want to be noticed?"
“Don’t we all?”
Stella smiled tightly. “Not all of us.”
“Well, I’m a movie producer. I have to be
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