AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That you know of,” she deadpans and busts out laughing.
I join in with laughter. “That’s not funny. But really, I’ve always been cautious with that sort of thing. You could say I’m career-minded.”
“I’m surprised the band has survived, thrived even, for so long.”
I beam at her. She understands what this is.Industrial Novemberis my passion. My baby. She gets it. So many people don’t. It’s not about fame or money for me. It’s about making something that, at the end of the day, I am proud of. It’s about art. And I’m one lucky bastard when I get to relive my art-making on the stage at every concert.
“Hey,” I say. “Will I get you in trouble with your boss for staying after hours here?”
Sofia laughs. “Bren, I am my boss.”
“What?”
“I’m the owner of this fine establishment.” Her grin grows wide with pride.
I have to do a doubletake. Then I feel like an imbecile. “Oh. I’m sorry,” I say and hang my head. “Why did you let me assume you were only a waitress—”
“Because of that right there.” Sofia points at me, jabbing her index finger to my chest, with accusation in her eyes. “What would be wrong with being a waitress?”
“I—uh . . .”
“Nothing, Bren. It’s honorable work. I love many of my waitresses. It’s a pitstop for some of them, a career for others. And every one of them deserves your respect.” Her tone changes during that little speech and my mouth dries up because...she’s right.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t like snobs, Bren. And you were one. That’s why I never corrected you. I didn’t care if you thought that’s what I was because I wouldn’t be ashamed to be a waitress. There is nothing shameful about it.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“You’re forgiven,” she says, like the matter is settled. “Can I ask you a personal question?” she asks with apprehension, clearly trying to change the subject.
I shift in my chair. Have I become an arrogant asshole with the growth of my fame? Sofia brings my feet to the ground, and I can’t believe how far I’ve strayed all this time. I might just need her around all the time to keep myself firmly planted on earth.
“That’s the idea of tonight. You can ask anything. Nothing’s off-limits.”
“I’ll admit, before the concert, I only knew topically about your music, but since then, I’ve listened more carefully—”
“Oh?”
“Well, don’t let it go to your head.” She rolls her eyes.
I chuckle. “Go on.”
“That song. ‘Late Night Legs.’ You wrote it, right? Who’s it about?”
That’s a change in topic I’m not expecting. “I regret saying nothing’s off-limits now—”
“Forget I asked—”
“No. It’s okay. Um, just—I think I’ll need another drink if I’m going down that rabbit hole with you.”
Sofia smiles and grabs the bottle between us so she can fill our glasses. I lift the small shot glass in front of me, watching her carefully through the clear, amber liquid. She clinks her glass to mine.
“¡Salud!”she says.
“Prost!”I respond.
Our glasses thud on the counter when we slam them down. I ask her for a beer as well, only so I can hold something. I need to grip something in my hands in order to relive what “Late Night Legs” is about. Sofia doesn’t skip a beat before retrieving a glass and filling it with beer from the tap.
