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"I'm sorry, but I can't," I went to explain to Anna, but she was already ready to speak, a hurtful expression on her face.
"Seriously? I say I'm not coming to work, but you insist on staying, and for what? To spend time with my obnoxious father and answer questions about me? You know he'll come looking for you if he finds out I'm not here," she said.
"My uncle's birthday is tomorrow," I told her sternly, having mentioned it at least a dozen times in the previous two weeks.
"Oh my goodness!" She slapped her temple, pretending to be disappointed. She tried to save it by saying, "I thought it was next week."
"Miss, don't youplay the naivety card on me. You forgot, didn'tyou?" I told her, knowing she already had.
"No, no, I didn't!I know how important your uncle is to you, and how could I forget?" Her straight face didn't waver, and she would have been convincing if I hadn't known her so well.
"You forgot," I said as I yanked my shoulders free of her grip and walked out of the room.
"Vanessa," Anna apologized as she followed me. "I'll be there at the birthday party." I didn't look back at her, nor did I respond "I'll help out. Vanessa, please."
Vanessa, please.Could you blame me for giving her a hard time andhaving fun whilst doing so? Seeingher assume herpuppy expression was priceless.
When we approached Francesca, she ignored us, overlooking the tables and guests.
"We're here, Miss Francesca," Anna said in her most annoying tone, the kind of tone that could incite trouble.
Francesca returned her attention to both of us, a wicked smile on her face.
"Vanessa." She shifted her gaze from me to Anna. "Anna," she sighed deeply.
Anna made her famous “I told you so” face at me. I could tell what she was thinking because I was thinking the same thing. Francesca definitely had some sort of beef withAnna. She did know her name and had been petty ever since we arrived. My best guess was that it had something to do with how we got ourjobs at the restaurant.
Francesca was a woman who firmly believed in the American dream: equal opportunities for all. So I could see why she disliked us, but Anna liked to play with fire.
"Vanessa, you'll get table number fourteen while—" Francesca began assigning us our tasks for the evening.
"Which Vanessa, me or her?" Anna cut her off, earning me an eye rollas well.
"While you, Anna," Francesca motioned towards Anna as if she hadn't said anything, “will be tending to the clients in Room Thirteen. Best of luck." She said it almost with pity before dismissing both of us.
We returned to the kitchen, and Anna left me to speak with Jefferson, the customer service manager. I assumed she was curious about who was in Room Thirteen. I would have been intrigued as well, given Francesca's delivery of the instruction as if it were a punishment.
While I waited for people at table fourteen, Anna returned to me, pale.
"What's the matter?" I asked, concerned that I had missed something crucial.
"I can't go up to Room Thirteen," she declared emphatically. I swear I'd never seen anything scare hermore than this room.
We were all aware of The Rose's private rooms. It was more expensive than regular tables and was frequently requested by politicians and other wealthy business people who required privacy and luxury when conducting business. It didn't make sense to me why Anna would be afraid of some suits.
"Now, I think you are being ridiculous," I said to her.
"I'm not," Anna grumbled. "Jeff stated that the men in Room Thirteen are dangerous. He claimed they entered through the back door and that one of them was a cop or something. I'm not going up there." Anna approached the kitchen wall, arms folded across her breasts. "I'm not going, uh-uh."
It took me about a minute to realize Anna wasn't putting up an act. She was terrified and serious about it. She was constantly afraid of cops and worried that she would be arrested, questioned, or tortured one day because of her father's known connection to the Irish Mafia.
"You must put on your big girl pants and go up there. You don't want any more problems with Francesca, do you?" I reminded her and looked her firmly in the eyes.
"I'm afraid I can't, Vanessa."
I walked past my terrified friend to inspect the tables. Mineremained empty. The Rose was always completely booked every night, so I knew it would be filledin the next ten minutes.
"You already know Jeff is—" I was about to use the word delusional, but I knew he wasn't. He was a married man who appeared to be far too intelligent for his job. There was no reason for him to lie to Anna about the men in Room Thirteen, but I knew it was up to me to get us both out of new trouble with Francesca.
