by Ali Vali
“First tell me what happened to you today.”
“The governor was in town and stopped in for lunch.” Dale took a long swig from his beer around a smile.
“Did you spit in his soup as a personal favor to me?” She laughed along with him.
“No, but I wished I knew his list of food allergies. The pompous ass told me to tell you hello for him, and to let you know there were no hard feelings.” He got them a couple more beers and pointed her to the outdoor kitchen on her back deck that she’d had installed for him. “I had to remind myself that I’m in the hospitality business.”
“It still sounds like you had the better day.” Her mouth watered when he put the two large steaks on the grill and they immediately sizzled. “Sam started today.”
“I thought you were looking forward to that.”
“Yeah.” She squeezed the back of her neck in an effort to loosen the tight muscles that the sight of Paula had knotted from there down to her shoulders. “Huey and I thought we’d start her on something easy that probably has no chance of succeeding.”
“A loser campaign is your idea of a good thing?” Dale asked as he shook his head and laughed. “That’s a sweet kid, Chili. Maybe you shouldn’t disillusion her right off, since according to your friend the governor, that’s coming in the next election when his handpicked boy takes over for him.”
“We all have them, and there isn’t a lot going on that’ll keep us in town.” She’d picked the label off the bottle a tiny piece at a time and wadded all that into a tight ball. “Everything was going okay until we met with our client and his supposed campaign manager.”
“Which are who and who?”
“Virgil Emery and Paula Stern.” Simply saying that bitch’s name made her stomach churn.
“We’ll get back to Paula the asshole in a minute, but how does Sam fit into all this?”
She threw her label at his head. “And how do you know Sam has anything to do with anything?”
“Because if it was all about Paula you would’ve cursed, screamed, and gotten over it by now. I haven’t heard your talent in using the word ‘fuck’ in every way imaginable, so there’s got to be something else.”
“You should sell the restaurant and open up a detective agency.”
“I would, but I look like a pervert in a trench coat.”
She laughed and told him the story of her day as he plated their food and poured the wine. “I shouldn’t have lost my cool, but it’s like she saw a raw nerve and danced a tango on it in her Pradas.”
“So what happens now?” He put a pie in the oven before he joined her.
“If Huey fires me for tossing his daughter out of my car, I can retire and spend my days watching C-SPAN with Dad and helping Mom find you a nice young lady to marry.”
“Keep it up and I’ll spit in your dessert. Huey would fire Sam before he goes anywhere near you.”
“I’ll apologize in the morning and see where that gets me.”
“Make it sincere or it’ll be a long few months with the car salesman.”
They spent the rest of dinner talking about old times and planning their annual fishing trip. She treated Dale to a couple of trips a year to thank him for the meals he prepared, and he always picked fishing. Aside from getting her all to himself for a few days to reminisce about their childhood, he probably did it so he could brag about the fish he served in the restaurant to his staff and the patrons.
With their meal finished they drank the rest of the wine as the pie cooled, and he took out a large file and laid it on the table between them. “You want to review the books?” Dale asked.
“Do I ever want to review the books?” It was cool out, but the dying logs of oak and mesquite Dale had used were still putting out heat.
“When I embezzle and run off with your half of the place, don’t complain.”
“Can you pay yourself and everyone else?”
“Comfortably,” he said as he poured out the last bit of wine evenly between them.
“Then I don’t need to see the books. Hell, if I can’t trust you I might as well shoot myself in the foot.”
“Don’t you mean to say, shoot yourself in the head?”
“And miss the next governor’s race? I’m more likely to shoot someone else than myself, especially when I run into people like Paula.”
“If you do decide to use her for target practice, we’re doing well enough to bail you out,” he said as they tapped their glasses together. “Did you put the twenty-fifth in your calendar? It’s the folks’ anniversary, and Mom invited a few friends.”
“If she has some blind dates in the making, can I put hot sauce in her martini?”
“She said she learned her lesson after the last time.”
“Which is what she said the time before that. Don’t you remember, or have the onion fumes finally melted something in your brain?”
“True, she did promise before, but she’ll be too busy telling Dad’s side of the family that every single one of them was wrong about her and how long their marriage would last, including the evil bitch that is her mother-in-law.”
She laughed before she shoved a piece of pie in her mouth. “That’s true, but Granny might be safe if Huey tosses me out to teach me a lesson on manners. Then Mom will have something else to talk about.”
“You’ve known Sam since she was in high school, so stop with the gloomy talk and practice your apology. Since the day you met her you’ve gone on and on about how smart, cute, and pleasant she is. One little mishap on her first day isn’t going to change your opinion of her. All you have to do now is make sure she doesn’t change her mind about you before you get a chance to act on your crush.”
“I’m too old to have a crush,” she said, and promptly stopped talking because she sounded so whiny.
“Sure you are. Remember who you’re talking to. I promise I won’t tell anyone, but it’s cute as hell to me.”
“Thanks, old wise one, and leave the pie,” she said when he got up and kissed the top of her head. “Did you call a cab?”
“I always do, since the best part of growing older with you is the booze. Are you going to be okay?”
“One more piece of your coconut custard, and I can even face Paula, Virgil, and Sam all at the same time.”
“Come by this week for lunch and give me an update.” He kissed her head again and waved as he headed out.
For two people who’d grown up together with nothing in common aside from their parents, it amazed her that Dale had become her closest friend and sounding board. They still had nothing in common, but she found him a good listener because his approach to politics was the same as most of the general public. He voted, and that’s where his commitment ended. It wasn’t that most people didn’t care; it was that following the day-to-day world of government was sometimes as exciting as watching gum harden on the sidewalk.
“Let’s see what fresh hell happens tomorrow, because today I totally fucked up.”
*
“I see,” Maria Poplin said, after taking a sip of her Cosmopolitan.
“What?” Sam’s body warmed from the scotch she’d ordered. Relaxing this way could become addicting considering the career she was embarking on, so she’d have to watch her alcohol intake. The way her father described it, his days sometimes blended from one political event to the next, and the only thing they had in common aside from the bullshit was cheap liquor.
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Some investigative reporter you are,” Sam said, but couldn’t quite take her eyes off her glass. “My dad raves about her all the time, and because I’m his daughter, I get to see the reports of what she does. Chili knows how to win without having to sell her soul to the devil, and I’ve been really excited about working with her.”
“If I were interviewing you for a job, you’d be hired, but you didn’t answer my question.” Maria put her hand over Sam’s. “You don’t realize you’re doing it, but you talk about her a
lot, and you only do that when you’re interested in someone.”
“Chili isn’t exactly someone you like, Maria, and even if I was that delusional, she seems commitment-phobic. Sam doesn’t do players.”
“You just have to go about it differently than you usually do.” Maria held up two fingers as their waiter neared.
“I have a usual way of doing things?”
“Don’t sit there and act like you don’t have people tripping over themselves to ask you out. Up to now you haven’t had to be selective because all you’re interested in is a good time. Even if that’s all you’ve wanted, there’s been a queue of folks willing to do anything from line dancing to skydiving while handling poisonous snakes to get you to say yes. I guess they figure a few rattler bites is worth getting you between the sheets once someone, preferably you, sucks the venom out of them.”
Sam finished her third drink and accepted the fourth, even though it’d guarantee a hangover in the morning. “I’m beginning to believe you make up all that shit on TV as you go along. It’s shocking no one’s sued you for libel.”
“Did you take up a crack habit I don’t know about that’s made you forget the year we were roommates?” Maria held her by the chin so she could look her in the eyes. “All those hopefuls coming by with their sad puppy faces wanting to know when you’d call and asking if I’d put in a good word. I should’ve said yes, for a fee, and whittled those college loans down.”
“You make me sound like a slut,” Sam said as the waiter came with two more drinks to add to their fourth round. “Is it two-for-one all of a sudden?”
“The two gentlemen at the bar wanted to treat you,” the waiter said, and pointed to the two guys he was talking about. “Anything else I can get you ladies?”
“Could you send these back?” Maria asked, pushing both glasses to the edge of the table.
“You’d turn down free drinks?” the waiter asked but picked them up anyway.
“Do we look like Cosmo whores to you or something?” Sam asked, and the guy took a step back. “You can tell them our parents taught us to never accept anything from strangers. And before they take that as a challenge to come over and introduce themselves—we’d like to remain strangers to them.”
“As my father the prosecutor used to say, the state rests,” Maria said to Sam once they were alone again and laughed.
“It could’ve been you they were interested in, you know.”
“Yes. I’m sure the back of my head is sexy as hell, since that’s the only view they have of me. Face it, Ms. Samantha, you’re a beautiful woman that people find desirable. If you in turn find Chili desirable, it’s a win-win for you.”
“Even if I agree with you, after seeing Paula, I’m in no way Chili’s type. And before you become as obnoxious as the guys heading this way, I don’t agree with you.”
“Mind if we join you?” the first guy asked.
“Once you see that we’re harmless, you’ll see we didn’t drop anything in those drinks we sent over,” his friend said.
“We weren’t afraid of a roofie. We’re simply not interested. I live with someone, but I can’t speak for my friend the female impersonator. He can usually be persuaded, but only if you’ll form a human naked train with him as the caboose.” Maria rested her chin on the palm of her hand and smiled.
“No fucking way you’re a guy,” the first guy said to Sam.
“You’ve never heard of RuPaul’s second cousin, Marvelous Marvin? He’s on the show all the time,” Maria said with a straight face. “Come on, live a little and broaden your horizons. You can finally check having a ten-inch penis shoved up your ass off your bucket list,” her smiled widened, “and if you give him twenty minutes, you both can.”
“Sorry to bother you.” The men ran back to the bar so fast they came close to taking out the table next to them.
“Marvelous Marvin? Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“If you can’t bluff you’ll never make it very far as an investigative reporter.” Maria paid their bill and hailed a cab for them. “The other lesson I’ve learned is that a burger will soak up all this booze so you won’t resemble a sick raccoon in the morning.”
“With wisdom like that, you should go into politics.”
“It’s much more fun digging up dirt on politicians than being one, and if they dug up my past there you’d be. You don’t want to be the six o’clock lead in a story, do you?”
“No, but after my first day, I’m regretting I didn’t go with the dream to become a vet I had when I was six.” Sam stumbled a little getting out of the cab but caught herself on the back of Maria’s skirt before she fell. “Then the only slimy things I’d have to deal with were snakes.”
“You’ll have plenty of those in your line of work—trust me.” Maria put her arm around her waist and led her inside the Camellia Grill. “Give yourself a chance, Sam, and you’ll catch the fever soon enough.”
“And Chili and the harem I’m sure we’ll run into along the way?”
“I can’t tell you what to do about that, but make sure you know the consequences before you do anything at all.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam pressed her palms around the glass of ice water the waiter put down and enjoyed the cold.
“You were right about one thing when it comes to Chili. She’s good at what she does, Sam, really good. Put all the personal stuff aside and think about what kind of relationship you want to have with her, professional and otherwise.” Maria stopped as the food arrived. “You stick your toe in that pool to see what the fuss is about, and she’ll move on.”
“That’s obvious. Paula proved that,” she said before taking a huge bite of her burger. Suddenly she was ravenous.
“No, girlfriend, she’ll move on from the firm, and she’ll have plenty of offers if she does.”
Sam licked ketchup off her thumb and laughed. “I’m not that hideous in bed.”
“I know that, but Chili wouldn’t disrespect your father or you that way. At least that’s the impression I get of her. If she leaves, the firm will survive, but understand the rainmaker Chili is and what a drought would do to your bottom line.”
“Did you sleep with her? You sound like her biggest fan.”
“Actually I’m more a fan of yours.”
Chapter Five
“I’m sorry,” Sam and Chili said simultaneously the next morning in the parking lot.
“Why are you apologizing?” Sam asked, her sunglasses firmly in place despite the dreary, overcast morning. Maria had lied about the burger and fries absorbing all the alcohol. “I was the butthead yesterday.”
“I was being polite,” Chili said, and pointed out the diner a few buildings over. “Besides, it’s not often one of the newbies has the power to fire me.”
“Shouldn’t you be more polite then?” Sam followed, not ready to go into work yet. “Like saying I’m not a butthead, or at least not agreeing with me.”
“How about instead of deciding whether or not you’re a butthead, we agree the day ended at Rubenstein’s yesterday. Whatever came after that didn’t happen. Deal?” Chili put her hand out as they stopped on the sidewalk. Sam stared at it for a long time before taking it.
“What’s the catch?” Sam asked now, not letting go.
“I don’t think they serve fresh seafood, but you look like you could use some eggs. Late night?”
“Not what I meant, but eggs sound good.”
Chili smiled, held the door for her, and picked the table by the window. The waitress handed only Sam a menu. “You’re not getting anything?”
“She knows I’m a creature of habit about some things, but the chili omelet’s their specialty.”
Sam put her hand over her stomach and shook her head. “I don’t think I could handle chili today.”
“Maybe it’s plain eggs they named after me.”
“Is your ego always this healthy?” Sam pointed to something on the menu and nodded toward the waitress.
>
“Actually I’m a shy introvert.”
Sam came close to snorting coffee out of her nose. “Yeah, I can see that. Do you have a bridge to sell me later?”
“Maybe, so try to behave, smart stuff.”
“Do you want to talk about yesterday at all?”
“If you mean Virgil and anything to do with his campaign, sure,” Chili said, and took a sip of coffee while she organized her thoughts. All the relaxation from her dinner with Dale had drained from her body and been replaced with tension in Sam’s presence.
“I was more interested in why you act like Paula is the original Typhoid Mary. Do you two have a history?”
“I met Paula a few years back before I came to work for your father.”
Sam stared at her, blinking slowly, but didn’t say anything until it was clear Chili didn’t intend to elaborate. “And? There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“There might be more to it than that…or there might not. You need to learn that your private life should stay private. At least I’m going to keep mine that way.”
Sam shut her mouth so her lips formed a thin line as the waitress poured more coffee. “Wouldn’t it be faster to just say it’s none of my business?”
“If I did that, you’d think I was being an ass again,” she said, and put a finger up when Sam inhaled sharply as if ready to hit her with a hailstorm of words. “You don’t need to deny you think I’m an asshole. I figured that out on my own. I said it because, even though we’re not running for office, someone’s always looking for an advantage. Share everything about yourself and there’ll always be someone who’ll eventually try to use it against you.”
“Is that what happened with Paula?”
She had to give Sam credit, she’d do a bulldog proud, but with a face like Sam’s and an ass that’d stop traffic, most people would cut her some slack. “It’s none of your business, Sam, so drop it.”
“You realize I won’t let this go, right?”
“If you’re that curious, have at it and ask around. Believe me, it won’t be that hard a search, and when you’ve got your answer it might be enough to get me fired, since you have that power.” She dropped a twenty on the table and accepted the bag the waitress held out. “Maybe once you do show me the door, you can explain where in the hell I went wrong.”
