“May I have this dance?” Jason Aspoll held out his hand to Rosa.
She smiled at him. It was a well-known fact that on most nights, near closing time, Rosa enjoyed getting out on the dance floor. It was good marketing. Show the public you like your place just as much as they do. Besides, Rosa did love dancing.
And she didn’t like going home. There was nothing wrong with her place, except that it simply wasn’t…lived in enough.
“I’d love to,” she said to Jason, and slipped easily into his arms. The ensemble played “La Danza,” and they swayed, grinning at each other like idiots.
“So you finally did it, you big goof,” she said.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I know,” she said breezily, then patted his arm. “Seriously, Jason, I’m honored that you asked for my help. It was fun.”
“Well, I’m in awe. You managed everything perfectly, down to the last detail. Her favorite food was tonight’s special, the ensemble kept playing songs she loves…You even had special flowers on all the tables. I didn’t know Lily of the Valley was her favorite.”
“In the future, knowing her favorites is your job.” Rosa was always mystified that people simply didn’t notice things about other people. She had once dated an airline pilot for five months, and he never learned how she took her coffee. Come to think of it, no man had ever bothered to learn that about her, except—
“How does Linda take her coffee?” she asked Jason suddenly.
“Hot?”
“Very funny. How does she like her coffee?”
“Linda drinks tea. She takes it with honey and lemon.”
Rosa collapsed against him in exaggerated relief. “Thank God. You passed the test.” She didn’t mean to dart one tiny glance at Alex. It just happened. He was looking straight at her. Fine, then, she thought. Let him look.
“I didn’t know there was a test,” Jason whispered to her.
“There’s always a test,” she said. “Remember that.”
The music wound down and then stopped. During the polite patter of applause, Linda joined them.
“I’ve come to claim my man,” she said, slipping her hand into his.
“He’s all yours.” Rosa gave her a quick hug. “And that’s for you. Congratulations, my friends. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
Linda jerked her head in the direction of Alex’s table. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Drinking a $300 bottle of champagne.” Rosa held up a hand. “And that’s all I have to say on the subject. Tonight is your night. You and Jason.”
“You’re meeting me for coffee tomorrow, though,” Linda insisted. “And then you’ll spill.”
“Fine. I’ll see you at Pegasus tomorrow. Now, take your man and go home.”
“All right. Rosa, I know how much you did to make this night special,” said Linda. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
Rosa beamed. The look on Linda’s face was reward enough, but she said, “You can name your first child after me.”
“Only if it’s a girl.”
She and Linda hugged one more time, and the happy couple left. The music started up again, Rosa went back to work and pretended not to see Alex ask the tall woman at his table to dance.
This was absurd, she thought. She was an adult now, not a wide-eyed kid fresh out of high school. She had every right to go over to him this minute and demand to know what he was doing here. Or for that matter, what he’d been doing since he’d said, “Have a nice life” and strolled off into the sunset.
Did he have a nice life? she wondered.
He certainly looked as though he did. He seemed relaxed with his friends—or maybe that was the champagne kicking in. He had an air of casual elegance that was not in the least affected. Even when she first met him, as a little boy, he’d had a certain aura about him. That in-born poise was a family trait, one she’d observed not just in Alex, but in his parents and sister, as well.
The quality was nothing so uncomplicated as mere snobbery. Rosa had encountered her share of that. No, the Montgomerys simply had an innate sense of their place in the world, and that place was at the top of the heap.
Except when it came to loving someone. He pretty much sucked at that.
Maybe he’d changed. His date certainly appeared hopeful as she undulated her “Sex and the City” body against his on the dance floor.
“You want I should break his kneecaps?” inquired a deep voice behind her.
Rosa smiled. “Not tonight, Teddy.”
Teddy was in charge of security at the restaurant. In another sort of establishment, he’d be called a bouncer. The job required a thorough knowledge of digital alarms and surveillance, but he lived for the day he could wield those ham-sized fists on her behalf. “I got lots of footage of him on the security cameras,” he informed her. “You can watch that if you want.”
“No, I don’t want,” Rosa snapped, yet she could picture herself obsessively playing the tape, over and over again. “So does everybody in the place know the guy who once dumped me is here tonight?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said unapologetically. “We had a meeting about it. We don’t care how long ago it happened. He was harsh, Rosa. Damned harsh. What a dickwad.”
“We were just kids—”
“Headed to college. That’s pretty grown-up.”
She’d never made it to college. Her staff probably had a meeting about that, too.
“He’s a paying customer,” she said. “That’s all he is, so I wish everyone would quit trying to make such a big deal out of it. I don’t like people discussing my personal affairs.”
Teddy gently touched her shoulder. “It’s okay, Rosa. We’re talking about this because we care about you. Nobody wants to see you hurt.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” she assured him. “I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”
It became her mantra for the remainder of the evening, which was nearly over at last. The bartender’s final call circulated, and the ensemble bade everyone good-night by playing their signature farewell number, a sweet and wistful arrangement of “As Time Goes By.”
The last few customers circled the dance floor and then dispersed, heading off into the night, couples lost in each other and oblivious to the world. Rosa couldn’t keep count of the times she had stood in the shadows and watched people fall in love right here on the premises. Celesta’s was just that kind of place.
How’m I doing, Mamma?
Celesta, twenty years gone, would undoubtedly approve. The restaurant smelled like the kitchen of Rosa’s childhood; the menu featured many of the dishes Celesta had once prepared with warmth, intense flavors and a certain uncomplicated contentment Rosa constantly tried to recapture. She wanted the restaurant to serve Italian comfort food, the kind that fed hidden hungers and left people full of fond remembrances.
She pretended to be busy as Alex and his friends left. Finally she let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. When the last patron departed, so did the magic. The lights came up, revealing crumbs and smudges on the floors and tables, soot on the candle chimneys, dropped napkins and flatware. In the absence of music and with the kitchen doors propped open, the clank and crash