Tangled: Contemporary Romance Trilogy

by Dee Bridgnorth

  I peeked out of the kitchen into the dining room. There were a decent amount of people trickling in. I spotted two waitresses. Both looked harried and unfamiliar. It had been a few months since I had worked tables in this place.

  One of them rushed past me and then paused for a moment. “Are you the new girl? Thank goodness. We could use a hand. Do you know anything about waiting tables?” She was giving me a very proprietary glare as though she figured that she had seniority and was trying to establish this by being bitchy. Great.

  “I can handle myself,” I told her as I spotted my mother up at the hostess stand. “I’ll just let Schula know I’m here.”

  “Yeah.” The waitress narrowed her glare on me and gave me a look up and down. “You just make sure you tell her that you don’t want the big tables up front. Those are mine.”

  “Really.” I was actually kind of amused at this woman’s behavior. I didn’t recall ever having to go through this before.

  Mariana the bartender strode by with a huge bucket of ice in her arms. “Hey, Tansy! Long time no see!”

  “Hey Mariana,” I called back. Then I looked at the other waitress. “I’ve got it. All right?”

  She had stopped talking and was now staring as though she were trying desperately to place me. I didn’t have time for her to figure it out. I marched up to the hostess stand and touched my mother on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Mama,” I said. “I’m here to work.”

  “Oh you are, are you?”

  Shula Economides is a big woman. No. That’s not entirely accurate. She is a tall woman. Shula is at least five foot eight inches tall and has the willowy frame of some Greek statue. You know the one I mean. The inevitable centerpiece of every fountain you see from that part of the world where there is a headless woman in the center of the fountain holding a big urn and pouring as though not only is she impossibly slim and beautiful and perfectly proportioned, but somehow has the strength of Atlas to stand there and freaking pour water for half a century.

  My whole family is like this. Tall. Statuesque. Maybe the word here would be Junoesque. They’re mostly blond. My father has the dark hair and dark eyes like me, but my mother has gorgeous blonde curls she swears she still doesn’t have to dye and she wears them piled on top of her head in an ancient hairstyle that includes a silver clip she bought on a trip back to her homeland.

  “Well then I suppose we are glad enough of your help today,” my mother said grudgingly. “Just take section one up in front. That way if any big tables come in you can handle it.” Mama cast a look around the restaurant to look for the other two waitresses. “I don’t have very much confidence in Susan or Brianne. They’re far too flighty. And they aren’t Greek. Do you see what we have to deal with lately? I am reduced to putting an advertisement in the paper!”

  “That must be so awful for you.” I barely managed to get the words out without laughing. But at that moment a group of ten businessmen pushed their way through the door. Suddenly I felt better. Four hundred dollars. Yep. A couple of double shifts and I should have that made up right away.

  “Gentlemen, welcome to the Greek Maiden!” My mother’s booming voice reminded me of some Gypsy hawker at a fair. “Please allow Tansy to seat you at your table and we will get your drinks started. I know it’s cold out there and you must be hungry!”

  “And in a hurry,” one of the men added with a frown.

  I snatched up ten menus and waved the men along with me. “Then let’s get started, gentlemen. My name is Tansy. I’ll be serving you. The special is Mediterranean Chicken with a scrumptious rice pilaf and tender new carrots in the chef’s secret sauce.”

  I continued to talk as the men seated themselves at the table. By the time they all had their menus, I had their drink orders. I left them to peruse the menu and headed straight up to the bar. Mariana was already waiting for me. I gestured at her for six shots of Ouzo and leaned around the bar to get glasses for iced tea. I had always been one to get my drinks at the bar during the lunch hour. Since not many people hung out at a bar during the weekday lunch rush, it was faster.

  “That new waitress, Susan, is giving you the evil eye,” Mariana informed me with a sparkle in her eye and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  “Yeah? Well, she can just waste her time with it because I don’t have any time to worry about her. Do you have any idea how much money these guys will probably toss my way if I make this a fast lunch?”

  “Is that why you’re back?”

  “My car died.”

  Mariana made a face. “Enough said. You pop me a ten and I’ll help you keep your drinks full.”

  “Done.”

  I loved Mariana. And maybe it was just because I had been in this restaurant for so many long years now that I knew exactly how to make deals like this one that could net me a huge payout. You had to work together in a restaurant. It wasn’t unlike the way I did real estate. Maybe that’s what I liked about a job. The cooperation element.

  “Here you go, gentlemen.” I set their drinks down on the table in order and then put the Ouzo in front of the right people. “Shall we toast?” I asked them all. “Or shall we order before we toast so that we all remember what kind of food we want?”

  They were now laughing and poking at each other. Perfect. I smelled my four hundred dollars coming fast. Maybe I’d only have to do one double shift to get the money I needed. What could be sweeter?

  Chapter Eleven

  Valentino

  “And then we sat around this beautiful indoor sunroom and just watched the snow swirling outside while the staff brought us different drinks to try. It was such a wonderful weekend I almost didn’t want to come home!” Isabella Alvarez was gushing so hardcore about the fabulous weekend holiday that my dear brother had provided for them that she almost could not navigate her way into the restaurant.

  Yes. I didn’t need a reminder. My overachieving brother and his fiancée had provided my parents with a weekend getaway to what was evidently a spectacular bed and breakfast that would become the destination for their ridiculous steampunk-themed wedding. I was just taking them out to dinner at my mother’s favorite restaurant. That made me unpopular in more ways than one since my father didn’t really like Greek food.

  “Welcome to the Greek Maiden!” A tall woman in her sixties greeted us. I had never seen her before. But she was wearing a sparkling white evening gown as though she were the owner or something. I wondered just how short of staff they were if the owner was out here greeting customers. “How many for dinner this evening?”

  “Three please,” I told the elegant looking woman. She was oddly familiar though I could not place her in my mind. It was something about her features. “And if you don’t mind, my mother likes to sit in the central dining room so she can watch all of the people go by.”

  “Of course!” The woman dipped her head. “Right this way, if you please?”

  The tall, willowy woman with the sparkly dress led the way through the restaurant’s meandering interior. It had been designed to look a bit like an old Greek courtyard. At least that was the impression that it gave. The walls were painted with murals that included a painter’s rendition of the Parthenon and what I imagined to be a typical Greek countryside. There were Grecian pillars fabricated from stone and probably stucco between the dining areas, and the tile floor was terraced. It was an attractive restaurant, but it also had the look of a place that had left new behind a very long time ago. Of course, since Greece was rather ancient itself, maybe that was part of the charm.

  My parents and I sat. Antonio Alvarez was already looking over the menu and grumbling that he couldn’t find the one dish he considered edible on their menu. I sighed. I had invited my parents out to dinner for several reasons and not all of them were because I was a shameless kiss-up.

  “Your server will be right with you,” the aging hostess told us. “Shall I get you some wine?”

  “Oh, that would be lovely!” my mother exclaimed. �
��A nice red, I think.”

  I think I could actually see dollar signs going cha ching in the woman’s eyes. “Shall I choose something for you?”

  “No.” I told her firmly. Then I pointed to something on the menu that looked to be what I might call mid range. The truth was that my parents and I didn’t know diddley squat about wine. A bottle of something expensive would be utterly wasted on us anyway. “This will be just fine.”

  “As you wish.” The woman disappeared and I stared after her still puzzled over the strange feeling of déjà vu.

  “I still can’t find that thing on the menu,” my father groused. “Do you know what it was, Val?”

  “I think it’s just the Mediterranean chicken,” I told my father with a sigh. Did the man actually expect me to keep track of what he ordered in the restaurant? “How did you survive at some fancy bed and breakfast for the entire weekend?” I asked him suddenly. It was a valid question if you knew my father at all. “Did you just eat chips and salsa all weekend?”

  “Something like that,” my father said irritably. “It was a nice weekend. I’m not saying it wasn’t. Your brother was extremely generous to take us along with him and Lena just to make sure that we were included in some of the wedding plans.”

  “It’s just so sad,” my mother clucked. “You know, since Lena’s mother and father have passed and her sister up and moved to Kansas City!”

  I barely managed to suppress a snort. It sounded to me like Lena had it pretty good. I felt like there would have been no steampunk-themed wedding if her parents had still been alive. Parents weren’t cool like that. At least I hadn’t met any who were.

  “Good evening and welcome to the Greek Maiden.” A waitress approached from behind my left shoulder. Her voice was pleasant. Low, easy on the ear, smooth, and really weirdly familiar. What was going on with me tonight? It was like my brain was determined to find familiarity everywhere! “Are you folks ready to order or did you need a few moments?”

  The waitress was setting our wine glasses on the table. Her movements were sure and certain and absolutely practiced as though she could be opening this bottle of wine in her sleep. She removed an opener from her pocket and carefully inserted the corkscrew into the cork. Then she worked it out using the mechanism.

  Just as the cork reached the end of the bottle’s long green neck, I chanced to look up and get an actual full view of our waitress’s face. The cork popped. And suddenly I found myself looking into the wide dark eyes of Tansy Economides.

  She looked stunned. But if that was how she looked, I felt ten times more shocked. What on earth was that woman doing here in a Greek restaurant waiting tables? Why would she… Economides. I suddenly realized that Tansy and I had far more in common than either of us had probably ever realized.

  Tansy cleared her throat. “Good evening, Mr. Alvarez. I must say I did not expect to see you here this evening.” She did not break stride in her pouring of the wine even once as she spoke. She carefully poured a small measure of wine into two glasses. She swirled them around and then she held them out to me and to my father. “Mr. Alvarez, senior, I presume?”

  My father looked up at her and seemed a bit blown away. He took the glass she was offering, but instead of sniffing it, my father threw back the contents and swallowed it. “Yes. Antonio Alvarez. And the stuff is good. Pour away, young lady.”

  Tansy’s full lips parted into a warm smile. Her dark eyes were dancing with mirth and I was suddenly blown away by just how beautiful she looked. Maybe it was because I had only ever seen her in my garage or in front of my brother’s house when she felt off balance and uncomfortable. Obviously right here and now she was in her element.

  Her long curly, soft brown hair was pulled up and secured atop her head. Tiny ringlets fell around her neck and her ears as though nature already knew just how beautiful that look was on her. Her neck was graceful and even though she was short, she was curvy and very, very feminine. She was still wearing those boots, the ones that weren’t nearly waterproof enough for this fall and winter season. But she had a black apron over her clothes and she looked so at ease with herself that it reminded me of how I felt when I was inside the garage. Not the office, but near the bays or putting tools away or out back sorting tires.

  “Sir?” Tansy murmured as she handed me the other glass of wine.

  I sniffed it, but I had no idea what I was supposed to be smelling. “Has anyone ever figured out what it is that would make someone tell you that this wasn’t okay?”

  Her eyes flared and I saw the gleam of amusement light her from within. Her cheeks were so round and perfect and her lips were utterly kissable. What was wrong with me? Ugh!

  Then she giggled just a little, enough to tell me that she was hiding a huge belly laugh. “You know, I have had one gentleman in all of my years here tell me that the bouquet was off. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He kept going on and on about years and vintage and what had happened in the weather that year, which apparently has a lot to do with what wine tastes like. Who knew, right? But my father came out here with another bottle of the exact same stuff and the customer said that this new bottle was fine.” Tansy leaned forward just enough to make us all feel like we were in on some huge joke. I could already tell that my parents were enchanted. Especially my mother. Then Tansy continued her story and I knew my father was hooked too. “So we took the bottle of bad wine into the back and every one of us tried taste testing it with other bottles of the same stuff. We couldn’t tell a bit of difference. Not a single thing. So perhaps it is all in the mind of the beholder.” Tansy offered a little shrug. “But when that beholder is the customer, then you give them whatever bottle of whatever wine they want.”

  She poured all three of us a full glass of wine. My father was grinning hugely as he picked his up and toasted my mother. “To wine tasting!” He was laughing as he said it.

  “To wine tasting!” my mother agreed.

  I sighed, but it would have made me into the biggest chump on the planet not to join in. “To wine tasting.”

  I could actually feel Tansy’s gaze on me as I threw back the wine and downed half the glass. This was so surreal that I can hardly even describe what I was feeling. I had been thinking about her so much over the last forty-eight hours that everything in my head was all jumbled up. I should have been mad as hell. She owed me four hundred dollars. But I could not help but think that I was a whole lot more likely to see that four hundred than I was the six thousand that the other guy owed me for his new transmission or the two thousand from that customer with the engine rebuild. And that made me feel bad. Because there were a lot of things on that four hundred dollar invoice that probably fell under the heading of shit-I-don’t-usually-charge-for.

  “All right then, now that the wine is settled,” Tansy told us. “What can I get you all for dinner this evening? Our special is the Mediterranean chicken. But I have to say that the steaks tonight have been uncommonly good. Uncle Theos has apparently been experimenting with the house harisa sauce and I have to admit that it is very, very tasty. So I might actually recommend either one of our wonderful Gyro plates or just a straight-up filet smothered in sauce with a side of our house-made saffron rice pilaf and tender new carrots.”

  “I’ll have that.” My father did not wait a single second. He was already nodding and slapping his menu on the table. “I’ll have the filet and the rice stuff and the carrots.”

  Tansy grinned. It lit up her facial features and warmed her expression and I suddenly found myself wanting badly to be at the other end of that expression. I wanted her to look at me that way. “All right, sir. I will bring that right out to you. And for you, ma’am? What can I get you this evening?”

  “Oh, my favorite of course!” my mother gushed. “The Athenian Salmon.”

  Tansy actually had a little tablet in her hand and she was sending these orders straight back to the kitchen as we made them. It was a very state-of-the-art system they had then. I had s
een it before in other restaurants and in this one. But I’d never actually seen waitresses utilize it quite to the degree that Tansy was doing.

  “And for you, sir?” Tansy looked at me and I felt totally off balance. Like I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was about to say.

  I fumbled for my answer. Food. It wasn’t that hard. Right? “I’ll have the Mediterranean shrimp and pasta.” The words came out rough and almost rude sounding. I could actually feel my mother staring at me. Her mom radar was probably going nuts.

  “All right then, folks. I will bring your food just as soon as it’s ready. We are a little busy this evening, but we will get you taken care of immediately. In the meantime, can I bring you some fresh bread and butter?”

  “That would be lovely, thank you!” Oh yes, Isabella Alvarez was taken with our waitress.

  My mother barely managed to wait until Tansy had moved away from the table before she looked at me as though she were contemplating the need to take me over her knee and paddle my backside red, black, and blue.

  “What was that all about?” The words came from my father. I was surprised. He usually didn’t notice that sort of thing. “You were rude to her.”

  “What? No, I wasn’t!” I hadn’t been rude. I had been tongue-tied. There was a difference and I really didn’t want to explain it to them.

  “I think he was rude,” my father said, looking at my mother.

  Isabella bobbed her head. Of course, Tansy was swinging back by with a pitcher of iced tea to fill our glasses and a basket of bread and butter. She smiled, murmured that we just needed to ask if we required anything else, and then was off again in seconds to help another table. I watched her. She gave them the same treatment. Polite. Friendly. And very, very warm and welcoming. The woman was probably the best waitress I had ever seen before in my life.