“Don’t worry, boss. Your nuts went out on the silver platter a few minutes ago while you were on the phone with the dairy supplier,” Christopher said, plating the dessert for the guests.
Lola shrugged her shoulder, gave him a wag of her pierced brow, and laughed her way out of the kitchen.
In Braden’s family, an engagement party wasn’t complete without koufetta, what Americans referred to as Jordan almonds. Braden had tweaked the recipe and created his own take on them, replacing a portion of the orange blossom water with lavender. If he could impress some of the guests here tonight, he might finally get the chance to cater some of the larger Greek weddings in the area. Two other companies dominated the market around town, but they served what equated to fast food.
His Greek dishes, on the other hand, were authentic recipes handed down to him from his great-great-grandmother, Eva. He hadn’t messed much with them because why tamper with perfection? If he could add a touch or two of the unknown from what was expected, he’d someday become a major contender in the large local Greek food industry.
He pasted a smile on his face and strode through the swinging doors into the dining room of his restaurant, Acropolis. Squinting his eyes to look through the crowd of mingling guests, he spotted the man he needed to speak with standing across the room talking to Lola’s mother, Reina. The unique woman wore her gray hair in a long braid down her back and appeared as though she'd never gotten over the sixties, even naming her two daughters after Shakespearean heroines during one of her many phases.
With one catastrophe after another tonight, Braden had barely gotten two feet away from the kitchen. But, now that all the drama was settled and the wait staff was serving dessert, he had the perfect opportunity to pull his attorney, George, aside and find out what would happen to the restaurant lease.
Laughter spilled from the stage in the back of the room. ". . . and last, Portia and I would like to thank my best man, Braden, and the maid of honor, her sister, Lola. If it weren't for you guys, there may not have been an ‘us’ to celebrate. Braden, Lola, could you come up here and say a few words?" His best friend, Ryan Sullivan, grinned at him from the microphone.
Family and friends clapped. Ah, hell. He'd forgotten he'd agreed to give a speech. At this rate, he'd never get to talk to George, and the man had been dodging him for weeks now.
He spun around looking for his pink-haired co-conspirator, but she'd conveniently disappeared. He made sure his smile remained on his face as he climbed on the stage, shook his best friend's hand, and hugged Portia. They jumped off the stage and sat at a small table set in front, decorated with a white tablecloth and a bouquet of overly fragrant white gardenias.
Standing five feet above everyone else, he took in the view of the room. His staff had pushed the four and six top tables together for this party and covered them with black tablecloths and centerpieces of red roses. He’d reserved the white for the couple getting married to set them apart from the rest of the patrons. To the left of the stage, guests leaned against a black and white marbled bar which spanned half of the three thousand square foot restaurant.
The walls were painted with pictures of Greek women. The artist, a native of Greece, had depicted scenes of women historically important to the home country. Braden thought the women were beautiful and courageous, but Lola voiced her concerns over the fact the women all happened to be naked.
He ignored her as usual.
Divorced for nearly twenty years, his parents stood on opposite ends of the room from each other. It had taken quite a bit of negotiation to get them each to agree to attend this party. In the end, he'd used the technique he'd perfected throughout the years. Competition. They each loved Ryan like a part of the family and neither wanted the other to glean the privilege of attending the parties and wedding. It had worked like a charm these last twenty years.
His poor sister Rosalind, Rose as she preferred to be called, was shuttling back and forth trying to make both of their parents happy. After graduating from NYU Film School, she claimed she had plans to take advantage of the film incentives and the small but lucrative Michigan film industry. Braden worried about his little sister, but he had other things on his mind these days like whether or not he’d lose his lease now that Alexander had died.
The wait staff served each guest a piece of cake and filled the glasses with champagne. His nuts were displayed prominently in crystal bowls on each table, hopefully enticing the guests with the promise of happiness, health, longevity, wealth, and fertility.
He'd owned the restaurant for five years now and had created one of the most respected Greek restaurants in Metro-Detroit. Competition was stiff with dozens of Greek places to choose from, including the ones located in Greektown, the couple of blocks housing a half dozen Greek restaurants in the city next to the casino, but Braden had a dream and determination to make it successful. He'd chosen a prime area in an area which catered to businesses during the day, families at dinner, and bar-hoppers at night.