No. She needed to chill and let him call the shots.
Why was it so hard to give up control?
She slid behind the bar so she could pretend she was busy and not intently staring at the critic.
After a few moments, the critic’s hand went up.
Be cool, Alma muttered to herself.
She sauntered over to his table. “Hi, sir. I’m Alma Garcia, the owner of Mezcalifornia. Is there anything else I could get for you?”
He grunted. “I’ll have a tequila flight. And some elote.”
“Good choice sir. The street corn is delectable. Coming right up.”
She slowly walked over to the bar and exhaled. Showtime.
Alma put together the best tequila flight that she had ever made. She chose top-of-the-line tequilas that she herself rarely drank unless it was a special occasion.
The kitchen prepared the elote and Chuy brought it to her. She carried the drinks and food to the critic, and Alma explained each tequila to him, then returned to the bar.
The man sipped the tequila, but Alma wasn’t close enough to see if he was smiling or not.
Did he like her place?
The suspense was killing her.
She walked over to the table again, scanning the critic’s face for some type of signal as to what he was feeling.
But it was blank.
Breathe.
“Can I get you anything else?”
He shook his head. Alma’s heart dropped. “No. Just the check.”
“I’ll be right back.” She turned and walked to the register.
Hated it. He must’ve hated everything.
She calculated his bill and returned to the table. “Here you go, sir.”
He opened the check, gave it a quick glance, and handed her his card. But his fingers grazed hers. “You’re doing a great job here, kid.” He winked.
Alma gulped. “Thank you, sir!” She tried to contain her excitement and not go overboard, but she had no chill.
She processed his payment in her handheld machine and it printed a receipt. She ripped it out and gave it to him. “Would you like to try one last special mezcal? On the house.”
“Sure.”
She grinned and dashed back to the bar, quickly but thoughtfully prepared her signature smoky blood orange mezcal, and then ran it over to the critic.
She bounced around the room. She would be getting a good review. She knew it! This critic had been notoriously stoic.
She couldn’t wait to thank Jaime.
She grabbed her phone and texted him.
