Our lunch crowd is thick, and things run smoothly until I screw up an order for a customer. The woman is a bitch about it, and while I do everything I know to make it right, she still insists on seeing the manager. We call him over and he does a song and dance, smoothing things over. Afterward, he pulls me aside and lets me have it.
"We can't afford these types of errors. It's a simple matter of entering the item into the computer." His snappy retort surprises me because up to this point, he's been so even-tempered.
"It's not simple and the system is antiquated," I say, which isn't the wisest reply.
"Excuse me?" His head tips forward as he looks down his nose at me. I've done it this time.
"Honestly, this system is confusing and makes it difficult for the wait staff. There are much better software options out there."
"Vivi, that's not the point. The point is you are responsible for getting the correct order to your customers. Can you or can you not accomplish that?"
"Yes, but I thought I had."
"You obviously hadn't or she wouldn't have made such a stink. I'm willing to let it go this time, since you're in training, but the next time, it comes out of your paycheck. Understand?"
"Yes." Jeez. After he leaves, Eric approaches.
"Sorry. We won't let that happen again. I should be checking your orders."
"It's not your fault, Eric. The program here is awful. It should be categorized or at least alphabetized. But anyway, onward we go."
We finish up the lunch crowd and during a lull Eric asks if I want to join him and a few others after work for some drinks.
"Aw, I wish. I have plans tonight to hunt down another place to live."
"Oh? You in the market for a roommate?"
I lean my hip on the counter and say, "I may be. Why? Do you know of someone?"
"Yeah. Me. My roommate just moved to the west coast. So I'm frantic." He places his hands in the prayer pose. "I've been asking God to send me an angel to help and look what happened."
"Where do you live?"
"The East Village. It's a very-and I mean very-small two-bedroom. If you don't mind living in cramped quarters, I'm neat and like things organized. So if you're a slob, speak up now. It would never work for me."
"No, I'm not a slob at all. I like things orderly, too. How much is rent?"
He tells me and it's a very fair price.
"I'd want to see it first. And my friend has offered me an exceptional deal, too, that I need to check out."
"Your friend?"
Shrugging, I say, "Yeah. He has some rentals he's willing to let me have at a steal."
"Hmm. He must be some friend to have rentals as in plural."
"You might say that."
"Who's this friend?"
"Just a guy."
"Yeah," he says with a knowing grin. "Just a guy."
"He is. We went to high school together."
"And you're still dating him?"
"Eric, he's a friend. We're not dating."
He holds his hands up. "Hey, just asking. So when do you think you'll know? I have to tell my landlord something soon. He's waiting on a lease renewal and is eager to get rid of my ass so he can hike up the rent."
"Two days at the most. Is that okay?"
"That'll work. When do you want to see the place?"
"How about tomorrow? Maybe before work? Then we can come in together."
"Sounds great." He finds a piece of paper to write down his address and hands it to me. "Okay, I'm stoked. I've wanted a girl for a roommate forever. By the way, you know I'm gay, right?"
"I didn't, but thanks for clarifying," I say with a little laugh.
"Does it matter to you?"
"Not at all. Why would it?"
"Just checking. I didn't want it to be an issue later. So just for clarity, you wouldn't mind if I had guys over or anything?"
"Nope, not a problem."
He hugs me. "I see the beginnings of a great friendship here, Vivi. Even if we don't move in together."
"Yeah, same here. By the way, what do you do when you're not working here?"
He steps back. "I haven't told you? I'm in the process of building my interior design business."
"That's great. I've always wanted to learn a bit about that. I'm digging this roommate situation more and more."
"Oooh. Maybe I can find more ways to entice you then … like I have all kinds of connections with my buyer's card. I can take you places you've never been before."
"Really? Like where?" Now, I'm intrigued.
"For starters, the D&D Building."
"What's that?"
His hands fly to his face and he acts as though he's having a heart attack. "My God, Vivi. You just killed me." His expression is so comical; it beats anything I've ever seen. I crack up.
Then he leans in close and says, "Can I share something with you?"
"Sure."
"Imagine this. A building, eighteen stories tall, filled with every gorgeous piece of lingerie you can imagine, and I'm talking La Perla, darling. Add to that, the hottest men you've ever laid your eyes on. Then layer it with oodles and oodles of sex toys and I mean the fancy brands. Lelos or whatever the hell they're called. That's the D&D building for me. It's eighteen floors of designer heaven. Nothing but fabrics, carpets, flooring, furniture, design concepts, you name it." When he finishes, I think he may climax. He fans himself for a minute. "Whew, too much fantasizing for me."
"It sounds amazing."
"I'll take you one day and you'll see for yourself."
One of the other waiters calls out to us. "The crowd is thickening. Better get a move on, you two, or you'll be in the weeds."
"Come on, Viv. Let's go." He grabs my hand and I realize he just gave me a new nickname. I smile. Eric is fun and exactly what I need in my life.
We work our asses off until the next shift arrives to take our places. I'm happy to call it a day and head home.
As we walk out the door, Eric asks, "You headed back to Brooklyn?"
"No. I'm actually staying in SoHo tonight."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." I give an awkward shrug. "My friend."
"So you're at your friend's tonight?"
"Not exactly."
Eric stares and waits for an answer.
"I'm at The James." I'm hoping he'll let it pass. He doesn't.
"Say what?"
"I'm in a hotel for the next few days. It's kind of a long story."
His mouth curves into a conspiratorial grin. "I imagine it is. This friend seems like someone you need to hang on to if he's putting you up in The James, girl." Then he taps my elbow.
"It's not like that."
"Well, whatever it is, I'd try to sweeten the pot, if you know what I mean."
"Stop. It's not going in that direction. It's … complicated."
"Oh, I sense a juicy story somewhere in there."
"For God's sake, don't tell me you're a gossip."
His mouth falls open as he takes a step back. "Me? A gossip? Never. I was only thinking that if this person, an old high school friend, put you up in such a classy place, then you must mean more than you think to him. So I thought … oh, forget it. It's not my business, is it?"
"Nope. But I appreciate it a lot." I pat his arm so he knows I'm not angry. "Come on. Let's go home. We can take the train together."
"Good idea."
We link arms and are headed toward the subway entrance when I hear my name.
"Vivi."
Standing next to his car is Prescott.
"Oh, hey. I didn't know you'd be here," I say.
"I came to pick you up so we could check out the apartments like we planned."
"Is that your friend?" Eric asks. He sounds as though he might faint.
"Uh, yeah."
"Whoa. No wonder you're staying at The James. He probably could've bought the place for you."
"Vivi? Are you coming?" Prescott calls.
"Yeah, hang on," I answer. Turning back to Eric, I say, "I'll see you in the morning. I'll text you when I'm on the way."
"Sure thing, but I have a feeling I just lost my potential roommate. I can't compete with that, but I'd happily trade places with you if you'd like." Eric saunters off then, laughing. I have to chuckle. He's crushing on Prescott.
I turn toward the object of Eric's lust and notice his tightened expression. His narrowed gaze following Eric tells me all I need to know. If only he knew.
"Who's your friend?" His tone is cool.
"He's the one who's training me at work."
"I didn't know someone with a degree from MIT would need much training to be a waitress."
"That's not fair. Everyone needs to be trained in a new work environment. How did you even know where I worked? I never told you."
"I have my sources."
"Stop spying on me. It's creepy, Prescott."
He doesn't bother to comment but only says, "Get in," as he holds the door open.